Jeon Jungkook Fanfiction - Tumblr Posts

MASTERLIST

NETWORKS: @bangtansorciere @thebtswritersclub

A=Angst  S=Smut  F=Fluff

Kim Namjoon:

Books, Boba, Bosom Buddies  F

Summary: Kim Namjoon is the new hire at the library you work at. After the first clumsy run in you had with him your feelings for him develop over the months and you two painfully pine for each other.

Kim Seokjin:

Sick Visit  S

Summary:  You go to the doctor’s office when you’re feeling quite under the weather and your usual doctor is out of town and now the man taking your temperature is the same man you drunkenly slept with last weekend.

Min Yoongi:

Cruel  A

Summary:  After the terrible breakup you had you decided to take a late night stroll and you end up crossing paths with your ex best friend.

Teacher’s Pet  S

01 02

Summary: Your economics professor with a failing marriage takes an interest in you and you want him just as badly as he does.

Not in The Same Way  F S A

Summary: You’re absolutely infatuated with your tutor and everything is going well until your ex from a year ago is back in the picture.

Jung Hoseok:

TBD

Park Jimin:

Lunchbox Friends  S (with yandere themes)

Summary: Park Jimin is your best friend but has crossed the line in your friendship in the worst way.

Kim Taehyung:

Enamored S (with yandere themes)

Summary: Taehyung found you absolutely beautiful and he’s decided to make you his forever.

Jeon Jungkook:

Personal Business  S (with yandere themes)

Summary: You’re the assistant to the very rude CEO Jeon Jungkook and he’s taken an liking to you. He wants you to be his and only his.

Guarded  F

Summary: The biggest rule about being a prison guard is that you’re not supposed to have any form of relationship with the prisoners, but you decide to break the rules for Jeon Jungkook and you don’t know why.

Good Little Girl  S (with DDLG/age regression themes)

Summary: You were a brat and Jungkook was going to make you deal with the consequences to make sure you weren’t a brat ever again.

Step-Brotherly Blues   F S A

Summary: Drabbles on your sour relationship between your step-brother Jeon Jungkook and how it progresses.

Not in The Same Way  F S A

Summary: You’re absolutely infatuated with your tutor and everything is going well until your ex from a year ago is back in the picture.

Step-Brotherly Blues 2|Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: None this chapter is really fluffy

Prev. | Series Masterlist

You told Hobi and Taehyung to just go home after that blowup that had just happened. It was now nighttime and you were laying in your bed and staring at the ceiling. You want your money back, but you have no proof that Jungkook took it so now you feel stuck. You do feel a little bad about how the argument had gone over because you didn’t intend to come off as mean as you did. It was almost one in the morning and you decided to go to Jungkook’s room to see if you can apologize and maybe even smooth over a couple of creases in your guys’ relationship.

You tiptoe through the hallway till you reach his room and you see that some form of light is on in his room. It’s dim but it's there. You knock twice and wait for an answer. About a minute passes and you knock again with a little more force so it’s louder. “J-Jungkook, can you let me in?”

 You felt so silly because Jungkook had all the reasons to be pissed at you and not want to talk to you. You heard rustling in his room and the door is being swung open. It’s opened so quickly it almost makes you fall over because you were pressed up against it. “What the hell do you want?” His scowl was still as fiery as it was before and his tone made you flinch. “I just wanted to apologize for accusing you earlier and being so mean about it.” You couldn’t even make eye contact with him right now. It was pathetic how you look at his door right now with how you’re fidgeting so much with your hands and your pajamas. He scoffs and turns around to close his door and you’re panicking because you thought he would’ve at least said something in response. 

“Jungkook, wait! Can we please talk?” You used your foot to stop the door before it got slammed in your face. Jungkook scans over you to see if you were up to something but you seemed genuine in wanting to talk. He sighs and opens up the door to let you in his room. You step in while keeping your head down. Once you’re in he shuts the door and drops himself down on his bed. His covers were rustled so you can tell that’s where he was laying before you came. You sit on the edge of the bed and look around his room and observe while you collect your thoughts. 

“Listen, I really am sorry about what happened today. It definitely could’ve been more civil but I was just so upset because I didn’t know where my money went!” You threw your hands up in exasperation. “I’m just tired of always bickering with you and today was the last straw for me. It’s so draining Jungkook. All I want is to have a good relationship with you. If that means that we have to start from square one then I’ll do it. I just want things to be okay between us.” Jungkook was looking at you with big round eyes. This was definitely not what he was expecting to hear tonight. Honestly, he thought he wouldn't have heard from you or talked to you for weeks after this giant argument.

“Y/N I do accept your apology and I do appreciate you coming around to apologize in the first place. I’m also sorry for how cruel I’ve been towards you and I definitely could’ve treated you better. I would like for our relationship to get better and I know that it won’t happen overnight and I will put in the work as long as you do too to make an improvement.” He gave you a shy smile and this is the first time you don’t feel negatively while talking to Jungkook and you already like it. 

“Jungkook, can I have a hug? I know we aren’t real siblings, but I think It’s a step in the right direction.” You looked at the floor in embarrassment because you would never be able to recover if Jungkook laughed at you or straight up rejected your request. Before hearing an answer Jungkook’s arms are wrapped around you. You slowly wrap your arms around his frame and you wonder why your heart is beating a little harder than what you think is normal. You disregard it and just enjoy the first action that starts to bond you and Jungkook’s relationship. “I really hope we can look past our differences and really make this work Y/N” you nod into his chest and he just chuckles at your action. After the hug, you bid him goodnight and head back to your room feeling lighter. One of the biggest weights in your life has been lifted off your shoulders and it feels good.

Notes: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I loved the fluff and I’m really excited to see how JK’s and OC’s relationship is gonna develop! IF you liked this please like and reblog it is highly appreciated! I also have a Kofi if you would like to donate! If you would like to be added to the taglist please leave a reply or send and ask with you @ thank you!

Taglist: @mageprincess7

Ik it's an incomplete fic, but this another one of my comfort fic that I love to come back to. I hope people do read it atleast once.

filtering light 「 ch. 1 」

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

pairing: park jimin x reader x jeon jungkook

includes: bunny!reader, human!park jimin, human!jeon jungkook, golden retriever!jung hoseok, human!min yoongi, tiger!kim taehyung, human!kim namjoon, human!kim seokjin.

word count: 6k

warnings: none

summary: the reader is a bunny hybrid with a past that has left her traumatized and struggling to heal. some things can be helped with therapy, but some things can only be fixed through realizing you're not all of the things that hurt you—you are, in fact, just loved.

[ one ] [ two ] [ three ] [ four ] [ five ] [ six ] [ seven ]

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

The garden of The Violet was lush and sprawling, filling everything the eye could see with green leaves, bright flowers, and twinkling butterflies. The day was perfect; spring had just begun and the days were perfectly cool, the sun warming whatever parts of people it could touch. The humans moving around were all smiling, making polite conversation, and snacking on whatever food had been put out by the catering company. The banner that hung over the entrance to the garden reminded everyone that they were there for a cause: The Violet Hybrid Awareness Fund. As if the attendees could forget anyway.

The Violet had set up the event to raise awareness for hybrid care and hybrid lives—something the foundation had become directly involved in when they opened a shelter of their own almost a decade prior. Hybrid rights was a young movement but there were more and more people dedicating themselves to being a voice for the hybrids who were constantly being silenced. The Violet had invited some of the community’s most powerful and influential people to spend the day learning more about hybrid life and how they can help hybrids even if they didn’t want to adopt one.

There had been classes on almost every kind of hybrid and what they were like. There were classes on hybrid treatment (and cases of mistreatment). There were classes detailing The Violet’s plan to improve as many hybrid lives as possible. Currently, hybrids still had to be adopted to be free, and when they were in public they were required by law to wear their collars. The Violet, however, wanted hybrids to be enabled to gain their independence and autonomy without fear of humans interfering or hurting them.

While it was now generally frowned upon to have hybrids as servants, there were plenty of people in the world who thought of hybrids as property they paid for and could do what they wanted with. There were a few programs forming that worked to create policies that protected hybrids and made it possible to prosecute people who treated their hybrids inhumanely, but there was still a lot of work to be done. The Violet was asking communities to partner with them in the fight.

The morning had been filled with information and passionate words from founders of The Violet as well as from employees who had one story or another of how they were faced with the injustice of hybrid treatment and how they chose to stand and fight for those who were not allowed to fight for themselves. It was all very emotional and moving, if Park Jimin did say so himself.

Jimin had been invited alongside his partner, Jeon Jungkook, and a few of their friends. They felt strongly about the treatment of hybrids—anyone with eyes to see the abuse they suffered would be—but truly the two had no idea there was so much they didn’t know about hybrids in general. Their friend Namjoon was more knowledgeable on the subject, and he had been excited about the event for weeks. Namjoon was heavily involved in The Violet’s efforts to raise the quality of life for hybrids, even volunteering his time on top of donating hundreds of thousands of dollars to the foundation every year. How he found time on top of being the CEO of his own clean energy company was anyone’s guess. But if he struggled with balance it didn’t show as he approached the table his people sat at. He was grinning with excitement.

“Are you excited to meet the hybrids?” He asked, sitting down and stealing a cheese cracker off of Jungkook’s plate.

“Hybrids?” Jimin asked, looking up from the pamphlet he’d been reading. It was about hybrid nesting and he found it interesting enough that he’d been reading in silence, paying little attention to his surroundings until Namjoon spoke up.

“Yeah, the lady said it earlier. Some hybrids from the shelter are going to be here so we can meet them.” Jungkook remembered.

“Oh,” was all Jimin said.

He felt a little overwhelmed with information about the reality hybrids faced. In the seminar he sat in, they had talked about cases in which hybrids were mistreated and defended themselves but were impounded as a result. Past shelters were nothing like what The Violet had going on. There were pictures of small cages, unsanitary living conditions, and overcrowding. Staff members were just as likely to abuse the hybrids they were responsible for as the monsters the hybrids had just escaped.

“One of my trainers has a hybrid,” Jungkook said around a bite of melon. “She’s a cat hybrid. Kind of feisty.”

“Our CFO has a cat hybrid.” Namjoon nodded. “They usually have their person and everyone else can fuck off.” He chuckled.

“What kind of hybrid is the best to work with?” Jungkook asked Namjoon, wide eyes inquiring up at him.

“I get along well with dog hybrids. They’re the most approachable.”

“You mean you scare the other ones off.”  Jimin laughed. Namjoon blushed and shifted in his seat like he was being put out by the teasing.

“Ah—okay, okay.” He rolled his eyes. Everyone knew Namjoon was a bit clumsy. Dog hybrids found it funny if anything. He did in fact alarm a lot of the prey hybrids, who were already weary of him because of his size. “Anyway, most of the hybrids visiting will be low key. Some dogs, some cats, maybe a hamster. The more agreeable hybrids.”

“Agreeable?” Jungkook questioned.

“Yeah,  the ones who are okay with people for the most part. Some of the more exotic hybrids take a while to warm up to humans and wouldn’t benefit from something like this.” He sipped his drink. “But The Violet wanted to bring some hybrids who wouldn’t mind people but could also benefit from more exposure to people.”

The three men hummed in thought.

“Will you know any of them?” Jimin asked.

“No, probably not. Most of my work is done in the offices.”

And they fell into conversation about Namjoon’s work with The Violet, his business trying to make clean energy for the city, and his partner Jin. Jin was out of town on his own business, and wasn’t able to make it. None of the men missed the way Namjoon’s eyes softened when he spoke about missing his husband. It made the guys promise to try and distract him until Jin got back, making an offer to look around at the new art exhibit that had opened downtown. Namjoon was taking them up on that when the hybrids arrived.

There was no announcement at first, so as not to make the hybrids uncomfortable. But slowly, they started trickling in from inside the building. The first to be noticed was a golden retriever that spoke loudly and with an excited lilt in his tone. There was a scottish fold hybrid that sat alone until a few women approached her to make conversation. There weren’t more than twenty-five hybrids but the guests could see where they were based on the pockets of people that surrounded them.

Most thrived on the attention, their tails shaking back and forth behind them as they answered people’s questions. Others were visibly nervous and it seemed as though the staff members would notice and subtly guide attendees elsewhere so the hybrid would not be overwhelmed. It was truly interesting to witness. With images of hybrids being mistreated still fresh in their minds, everyone was being mindful and kind.

After about fifteen minutes, the announcement was finally made that The Violet’s hybrids had arrived and were making themselves comfortable. There were some activities for everyone to do to just relax and have fun. A corner for painting with easels and canvases was set up off to the side, away from where a game of soccer had started out between some dog hybrids and a few athletes who had come to support The Violet. Some younger hybrids were drawing with chalk along the walkways of the garden. Some hybrids kept to themselves and others joined in groups with humans, making small talk and just enjoying the opportunity to meet people who weren’t staff members. Everyone seemed occupied, doing their own thing, and Jungkook had decided he wanted to try his hand at painting.

There were a couple mouse hybrids that had started up in the paint area, and he greeted them as he looked around the supplies for what he might want. Jungkook had seen hybrids in passing, but had never really interacted with them. None of his friends owned any, and the ones he had met on the street were often not allowed to interact with strangers. That was why an event like this was important, he thought, to teach hybrids they shouldn’t have to be afraid of strangers. Though, a small part of his mind whispered that more often than not hybrids had a reason to fear humans. Regardless, humans should learn to be more comfortable with hybrids as well.

He grabbed a few sheets of watercolor paper, some brushes, a pen, some paint, and headed back to the table where his friends were. On his way he also snagged a plate of pastries, grinning to himself at the sight of the sweets. He placed his things down on the table and realized Jimin was talking with a hybrid. It was the golden retriever he had seen come out first.

When the hybrid got to the table where Jimin and Namjoon were chatting, he told them his name was Hoseok. Hoseok was very obviously friendly and extroverted. He had made his rounds talking to anyone and everyone. His conversation with Jimin was about what kind of work Jimin did. Jimin, it turned out, worked in security.

“Yeah? Like Park Systems level security?” Hoseok joked. Park Systems was a well known security company based in the city. The company was trusted with most of the big business security teams as well as basic home security systems. Hoseok had made the joke because the idea of the CEO of Park Systems being at The Violet talking to a golden retriever hybrid seemed laughable. When Jimin extended his hand and introduced himself as Park Jimin, Hoseok’s face had dropped in shock.

“No way.”

Hoseok had a million questions about it. He erupted in a flurry of inquiries. Jungkook was giggling at the hybrid’s enthusiasm when Namjoon leaned over to whisper in his ear.

“Hey, Kook, I think you have a shadow.”

Jungkook looked at him with confusion and Namjoon’s eyes flicked over his shoulder. The younger man slowly turned his head and there, pretending to play with a wildflower, was a hybrid he hadn’t noticed before.

You had started out at the front of the garden, playing with some of the younger hybrids and making hop-scotch. The kids loved when you jumped around with them, your ears flopping back and forth. You were only the second bunny hybrid The Violet had housed, and the children all found you adorable. However, when they had inevitably run off to play, you were left to your own devices with no excuse to avoid talking to the humans around.

You knew the staff was keeping a close eye on you. This was the first event you had been to since you came to The Violet, and you still struggled with big crowds of people. You were promised it would be relaxed and lowkey, and it was true. No one was staring too much, and no one was approaching you to ask questions. The people at the event were conscious that you were a bunny, and the one thing on the pamphlet about bunny hybrid care that was emphasized was their skittishness. When they were spooked, they would bolt. The caterer who handed you a plate of snacks even smiled softly at you, gentle and soothing as if trained. You assumed The Violet actually had trained them.

You had just settled in a particularly sunny patch of grass when you saw him. At first your heart stopped, thinking he was another bunny hybrid like yourself. But you realized almost immediately that he was human. However, the longer you looked the more you could see why you had mistaken him for a hybrid. His eyes were big and brown, and flicked this way and that as he took in his surroundings. He nibbled on his food while listening to the large man beside him talk about something. When someone said something he found amusing his nose would scrunch up in a way you found endearing. The man wasn’t a hybrid but he almost acted like one.

You had been content watching from afar as he relaxed and talked to the people at his table. He didn’t seem too interested in the hybrids around them, though when one walked by he gave them a nod or a small smile to be polite. When he got out of his seat, you had panicked slightly, fearing he was leaving though you had no grounds to. When you followed at a distance, it was clear he was just going to entertain himself.

You watched him look through the paints and brushes in the section for art, his brow furrowing in thought. He was frowning slightly with concentration, though when he noticed the two mouse hybrids looking at him he quickly softened his expression to say hello. He was choosing his colors after agonizing over the options and then he was moving back toward the table. In his arms he juggled the paper and all of the supplies he wanted. You were worried he was going to drop them. When he stopped to snag a plate of treats, you had giggled into your hand as you watched his balancing act of holding art supplies and piling desserts on the plate before balancing it all for the home stretch.

You tried to remain casual about it. You’d stop to admire a flower and debated picking it. You’d made small talk with a hybrid who asked if you were enjoying yourself. All the while your eyes were flicking back to the man, as if you were afraid he would disappear. Eventually, you had settled back in your spot, holding several flowers you deemed too pretty to not pick. The man was starting to mess around with his paints, listening to the people around him talk, sometimes smiling to himself as though he was just happy to exist in the same place as his friends. It was the first of only two times you would think to yourself that a human was beautiful. Not just attractive, but beautiful. In the same way as your flowers, or a sun shower or the sound of your friend Hoseok singing in the morning when he brought you a glass of juice and some fruit to nibble on.

You were so transfixed on the man that you didn’t register his friend’s attention on you. He had noticed you get up and had watched with curiosity as you lingered behind the youngest of their friend group. He was sure you weren’t aware of his gaze as you watched Jungkook wander around. He even chuckled to himself at your expression when a chatty pomeranian hybrid intercepted you and struck up a conversation. You were trying to be polite but the worry in your brow and shiftiness of your eyes told Namjoon you were agitated. It was almost heartbreaking how obviously enraptured with Jungkook you were. He couldn’t help but tell Jungkook about it the moment he thought no one would be paying attention.

When Jungkook moved and you realized he was turning to look at you, you froze. Your head tipped down and your fingers nervously rubbed at the flowers in your lap. Your cheeks were pink with the embarrassment of getting caught and part of you was gnawing at itself with fear. No one liked to be stared at. You were supposed to keep to yourself and not bother guests. You had learned that attracting attention from humans was dangerous. You should have been more careful, no matter how interested you were in the man.

Jungkook was also blushing. You were perhaps the cutest creature he had ever seen. With your head down, all he could see were your ears. One was a warm brown, almost black like your hair, and the other was white. He hadn’t seen a hybrid with two different colored ears before, and he found it charming. Even if you weren’t trying to make yourself as small as possible (like you presently were) you would be one of the most delicate hybrids there. He realized he had seen you earlier, playing with the children, and had mistaken you for one of the younger hybrids. By yourself, however, it was clear you were older, maybe around his age even. Jungkook had only gotten a glimpse of your eyes before you had ducked your head down, but from just a look he knew they were big and round, expressive in their emotion. He was intrigued.

“What do I do?” He asked, almost speaking out of the side of his mouth as if any movement would send you away. Namjoon found it incredibly cute.

“Don’t scare her away.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. Very helpful, hyung. He racked his brain for what he had learned about bunny hybrids, but all he could remember was that they flopped sometimes and it was a good thing. Jungkook was so caught up in trying to remember what the staff had said about bunny hybrids that he didn’t notice Jimin’s conversation with Hoseok had paused at Jungkook and Namjoon’s whispering. Hoseok was looking between Jungkook and you, his eyes thoughtful before a grin appeared, bright and energetic.

“She likes strawberries.” Hoseok whispered. The men followed his eyes to the plate of fruit Jimin had abandoned. There was a small pile of strawberries in the middle. Jungkook met Hoseok’s eyes and didn’t notice the way Jimin was watching him..

A few feet away, you knew they were talking about you.. Hoseok usually took enough of the attention that you could get by unnoticed but even he was whispering. You wanted to glare at him to communicate your feelings of betrayal but couldn’t bring yourself to look at any of them.

“Jimin, are you going to finish these strawberries?” Jungkook asked, his voice raised loud enough for it to carry across the garden. It was the first time you had really heard it fully and your ears twitched.

“Oh, I don’t think I can. They look delicious, but I’m so full.” Jimin played along, rubbing his tummy as though stuffed when in reality, he hadn’t eaten much.

Your ears were tilting towards them, intrigued by the idea of fresh strawberries. You snuck a peak and saw the forbidden fruit, piled high on a small plate by Jungkook’s elbow. But in the short glance you saw that Jungkook was still looking at you and you felt so shy you couldn’t move from where you sat.

Two emotions were warring in your chest. There was the desire to draw nearer to someone who seemed like you—who seemed safe (Hoseok wasn’t sensing any danger, surely, or he wouldn’t be engaging with them)—and the feeling that it was a trap. Like you would approach the table and the moment before you touched the berries a hand would shoot out and grab your wrist and you’d be punished for not fighting your temptations. You’d be punished for not controlling your urges, once again.

Was this a trap? You looked again at the strawberries and tears began to brim your eyes. You desperately wanted to go closer but the risk was too much. The conflict was stressing you out. So you didn’t move from your spot, paralyzed with the desire to move and the fear to go.

Over at the table, Jungkook deflated. Jimin gave him an encouraging smile and his hand went to squeeze his shoulder in an attempt to comfort the younger boy. Hoseok, however, was undeterred.

“Just give her time.” He said firmly. He watched the way your ears twitched and knew you wouldn’t be able to resist the fruit for long.

“Do you know her?” Jimin asked.

“Yeah, she’s my best friend,” he grinned proudly. The surprised looks didn’t go unnoticed. It was a surprise that you let the loud hybrid anywhere near you. You looked like a leaf falling to the ground would convince you to run for cover.

But Hoseok knew you better.

He struck up a conversation with Jungkook instead, trying to distract them to give you the window to feel safe enough to move.

It turned out that Jungkook’s occupation went hand in hand with Jimin’s. He had a studio where his trainers lead different exercise classes like Bikram yoga or boxing, as well as taught self-defense classes such as Krav Maga and Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. It was obvious that Jungkook himself was very athletic and in shape, even in his oversized clothing.

Jungkook was talking about why he started working out when out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement. He stuttered almost imperceptibly in his speech but recovered quickly, fighting a smile at the sight of you shifting your posture. He could have laughed at himself. He had never paid so much attention to one person before. Besides Jimin, of course.

When Hoseok had gotten Jungkook talking, the lull of his voice was almost too much to resist. You were struggling against the movement of your inner self weighing the risk of coming closer. Your inner bunny wanted to hide just in case, but even she was being drawn in by the sight of the fruit lying out, just asking to be eaten. All of your lines of defense were crumbling.

You were moving slowly, almost not of your own volition. It was as if something else was propelling you forward and you were inching toward the corner of the table where the plate rested.

When you reached the table, directly next to him, Jungkook kept talking but watched as your small hand reached out. Your fingers clutched a strawberry, your eyes darted around at each face at the table to see if they were paying attention to you but each of the males’ faces were trained anywhere else though they were all aware of you. Tension was coiled in your chest as you envisioned the hand that threatened to grab you. At last you brought the fruit to your lips and you took a nibble.

It was like every man at the table exhaled. Jungkook was beaming inwardly and Jimin was wiping at his nose to hide his smile. Namjoon was pushing his food around his plate with a small smile of his own and Hoseok was grinning in victory. You made a small noise, almost a clicking sound in the back of your throat, and all of them wondered what it was except for Hoseok, who knew it meant you were happy.

You weren’t being punished. You were a little closer to the stranger who kept looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Hello, happy bun. Would you like to sit down?” Hoseok was the first to address you and Jungkook’s eyes cut to him in fear that he was going to scare you away. Somehow, in the way that Hoseok just seemed to know things, it was exactly what you needed. Verbal affirmation that you could stay. You looked shyly at Jungkook and he immediately scooted, practically sitting on Namjoon. Namjoon cursed and also moved to the empty seat at his right. The older man’s grumpiness made you giggle and Jungkook’s eyes widened at the sound. He looked directly at Jimin to see if he had heard it and Jimin’s expression was one of slight awe. Jungkook ignored Namjoon’s grumbling as you lowered yourself in the now empty chair, timidly glancing at Jimin to your left and Jungkook to your right.

The seat was warm, and you could smell something warm, musky, and slightly floral.

“I like your flowers,” Jungkook told you. “Could I draw them?” He asked. You nodded, lifting the flowers to hand to him but Jungkook stopped you. “You’re fine. Just hold them like you were.”

Jimin started telling Hoseok about how Jungkook was incredibly talented at drawing and painting things. “Jungkook drew our friend’s wedding portrait.” He bragged. It was the first time you’d heard someone say his name. Jungkook.

You weren’t speaking but watching Jungkook draw, leaning slightly closer to get a better view. He was not just drawing the flowers, but you could see he was also drawing you. Or at least part of you. The watercolors were roughly spreading across the page, making the image of the flowers in your grasp. You practically preened, making a happy noise as you leaned into Jungkook, unaware of the fact that you were now touching beyond the unconscious comfort it gave you to be close to him.

Jimin was melting, however, watching the attention you gave his love. How you looked is how he felt. You watched Jungkook with thee expression he had only ever seen Jungkook himself make, when he found something interesting and beautiful and inspiring. He was sure you weren’t aware you were doing it.

While you were in your own little world, the afternoon went on with the activities. There were classic games like a two-legged race (which Jimin and Hoseok lost phenomenally at), a game of musical chairs that Hoseok won, and an egg toss that resulted in some impressive work by a pair of labrador hybrids. You watched everyone running around and having fun, and you looked like you wanted to get closer as Jimin and Namjoon entered the tug-of-war competition. Jungkook’s gaze went from you to the people lining up and back to you. Then he asked, “Want to go watch?”

You squeaked in surprise that he had directly addressed you and Jungkook patiently waited for you to compose yourself. You looked back at where Jimin and Namjoon playfully pretended to stretch and warm up, jokingly eyeing the hybrids that had volunteered to play. It looked fun, and Jungkook’s large friend looked strong, like a bull hybrid you’d seen once. You found yourself nodding and wordlessly, your hand moved to grasp Jungkook’s.

He watched it happen in slow motion, your hand moving from your lap towards his own where he mindlessly swung his pen around. He let the pen fall from his fingers in favor of opening his palm to you. Your hand was so small compared to his that he almost cooed. Your fingers wrapped around his and you looked at him with a vulnerability that made him want to place himself between you and anything that even thought about looking at you.

Hoseok saw the exchange from his place by the snack table and grinned. He allowed himself a single yip of celebration.

Jungkook led you to the tables nearest the competition and when Jimin saw the two of you watching he started acting cute, doing little dances and waving. It made you blush and hide in Jungkook’s shoulder, giggling to yourself. Jungkook gave Jimin a thumbs up and mouthed ‘keep it up’. Namjoon watched the whole interaction with thinly veiled amusement and made a note to himself. Before Jimin could make you laugh any more, the staff member officiating the tug-of-war game started talking and telling everyone the rules.

The tarp with mud was pulled into the middle of the field and the players lined up. You peaked out from behind Jungkook’s shoulder and watched as his friends lined up with five other random attendees and got into place.

You were sure the hybrids would win immediately. Hybrids were created to be stronger than humans. However, when the whistle blew and everyone started pulling in their own direction, it was clear why the human team had put Namjoon at the very back of the rope. At first he was leaning back to resist the pull of the hybrids, but after a moment, when the team had gotten their bearings, he turned and started walking in the other direction, the rope over his shoulder. Namjoon was strong. You watched him with wide eyes, huddling close to Jungkook.

Just like when you had taken his seat, this scent surrounded you. It was lavender and something else you didn’t have a name for: but with him close you got a better whiff. It was a warm scent, earthy and musky. You hadn’t smelled something like it before and you decided you liked it. You tried to inhale discreetly, rubbing your cheek against Jungkook’s shoulder. The scenting was almost unconscious. Almost. There was a part of you that wanted some of the smell on yourself, so even when the day was over and you were back in your room at The Violet, you would have the memory of him still on your cheek.

Jungkook was completely unaware of the scenting. All he knew was that you had started nuzzling him and he thought it was endearing. He was struggling to focus on the tug-of-war match in front of him. And when one of the humans slips and falls into the tarp of mud, his laughter is partly at their expense and partly an excuse to indulge in the happiness he felt that you had warmed up to him. He doesn’t catch you looking at him over his shoulder, smiling at the sound of his laughter.

Eventually, nature had the last say. Namjoon was strong, but not seven hybrids strong. The human side of the rope was pulled into the mud and Jimin’s shout of defeat startled you. So much so that you jumped and moved back behind Jungkook. He let you grip his hand, moving his other hand to stroke your arm in assurance.

“It’s okay…” He realized at that moment that he didn’t even know your name. “Jimin is just playing.” He soothed. Jimin. That was his name.

“Is he okay?” You ask quietly. It’s the first full sentence you’ve spoken in the hour you had spent with him. Jungkook grinned and it was stunning you.

“He’s fine, bun.” He resorted to the nickname he’d heard Hoseok use, and you clicked your approval and rubbed your forehead against Jungkook’s back. Your face warmed with embarrassment but you couldn’t help yourself.

Jimin came bounding up then, covered in mud and grinning ear to ear. He gave Jungkook a kiss that Jungkook scrunched his nose at because Jimin was completely covered in mud.

“We almost won.” He insisted.

“If only your team was full of Joonies.” Jungkook laughed.

Jimin noticed you peeking out at him from behind Jungkook’s shoulder but didn’t say anything. He just gave you a smile that left you smiling yourself. Then he excused himself to try and get as much mud off as possible for the ride home. “Make sure Kook doesn’t get into any trouble, okay?” He asked you. He waited until you nodded shyly before taking off.

The mention of the event ending had dread plummeting your stomach to the ground. You knew eventually that Jungkook would leave but you had pushed those thoughts out of your mind. Of course he had to go. Jimin had to go, too. They had lives to get back to and they couldn’t stay and feed you strawberries all day. It made you sad and your ears drooped, tickling Jungkook’s cheek. He could sense the mood shift and to cheer you up asked if you wanted to share a plate of strawberries. Then when you two sat back down you ate all of them.

When the staff members started canvasing the garden, the sun was starting to set. They were rounding up hybrids and telling them to say their final goodbyes to the friends they had made. You were sitting in between Jimin and Jungkook, dozing off, your head lolling forward as you struggled to stay awake and enjoy your last moments with them. In your heart you longed for a different life. One where instead of the staff member squeezing your shoulder and quietly letting you know it was time to start heading out, Jungkook would let you sleep, safe and warm with his scent beside you, until it became so late that he carried you to your bed—no, your nest. In this dream you had a nest of your own. A warm place of blankets, pillows, lavender, and bergamot.

But that wasn’t your life, and in your life, Hoseok was coming to collect you and walk with you back to your dorm. Pushing the urge to cry down, you barely managed a sound as you gave Jungkook’s hand one last squeeze. You two hadn’t let go since the tug-of-war game. It was a heartbreaking thing to see, and Jimin was equally moved when you said goodbye to him, your soft voice floating up to his ears.

The group watched you go and when you disappeared around the corner, the mood was noticeably depressed. Jungkook looked like a kicked puppy. Jimin’s hand was going up and down his back in an attempt to soothe him but honestly, even he didn’t know what to say. Jungkook had obviously connected with you and you with him.

“Maybe we can come back and visit her,” he offered quietly. Jungkook was blinking rapidly, nodding his head.

“Have you ever thought of adopting a hybrid?” Namjoon chose this moment to bring up what he had been thinking the whole day. Jimin and Jungkook shot their heads in his direction.

“What?” Jimin asked at the same moment Jungkook said “Could we?”

Namjoon’s expression was that of self-satisfaction.

“Those were all hybrids that live at The Violet.” He stated the obvious. “The long-term goal isn’t for them to spend the rest of their lives there. It’s for them to be adopted and get to live their lives in a home where they are safe and free to live autonomously with people who will love and care for them. That’s probably part of The Violet’s aim in bringing them here to the event. If anyone were to be interested in adopting a hybrid, they have the opportunity to interact with some and get a feel for what would fit best in their homes and lives.”

Jimin was going back and forth between looking at Namjoon and looking at Jungkook, who was looking as though someone had handed him banana milk on a platter and he found out there was a million dollars in the bottom of the jug.

Then, Jungkook seemed to deflate. He was staring at the table, processing what Namjoon had said. Watching you leave had felt like having his heart wretched out of his chest. It was worse knowing you didn’t want to leave. But he had learned enough in the seminars to know that taking care of a hybrid was a big job. They needed a lot of attention and care. You had to be an expert on your hybrid because they were relying on you to keep them safe and healthy. Jungkook didn’t know if he was up for that kind of responsibility. “I can’t take care of a hybrid by myself.”

The words were mumbled, as though he were just processing aloud and hadn’t realized he’d spoken at all. And he hadn’t realized. Not until Jimin made a disapproving sound and his hand went to Jungkook’s thigh. He squeezed it lightly and Jungkook looked up at him.

“No, you can’t.” He was staring so softly at Jungkook that the younger boy almost missed how negative his words were. Almost. Part of him had hoped Jimin would disagree and tell Jungkook he was entirely capable of taking care of you. So, Jungkook looked on, confused and slightly betrayed as his boyfriend leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

“But we can.”

© sybilwriting 2021

mio angelo.

it’s no secret to the whole nation how powerful the jeon family was. the efforts of the highly respected don jungsoo was the reason why the name of their clan continues to be a name that people thought greatly of and sometimes even feared. despite your father working alongside with the don, you never truly understood what the family possessed to earn them such acclaim; that is until you got closer to one of his grandsons, jeon jeongguk, that you caught a glimpse of how much power they truly seized as you see it first hand and become a part of it yourself.

pairing: jeongguk x reader

word count: 33.3k (🤠; use the browser when reading to avoid the app from crashing !)

rating: 18+

content: fluff | smut | angst | mafia au | established relationship au | inspired by ‘the godfather’ (so a lot of scenes may have similarities from the novel / movie) + ‘vincenzo’ | ft. lawyer!reader, soon-to-be mafia boss!jeongguk (kinda a spoiler, but kinda not) | this fic is prose heavy !!

warning/s: swearing | mature themes | mentions of smoking, drugs, prostitution, violence, crimes, and murder | explicit sexual content | dirty talk | nipple sucking | creampie | fingering | multiple orgasms | oral (f. + m. receiving) | one mention of breeding kink lmao | praising | begging | choking | riding | cum eating | taking it from behind (lmao idk what it’s called) | overstimulation | unprotected sex (this is fiction okay - be safe irl !)

» related drabble/s: bonus scene #1; bonus scene #2

━ INTRO.

Your father has always been in debt with the Jeon Family; most specifically to their head, Don Jungsoo.

When you grew up and finally had the right amount of curiosity to ask why, Inhwan only smiled and said that the Don helped him in developing the winery—the winery that today stands as one of the most sought out wine companies in the country, slowly expanding to neighboring nations and even across other continents. He said that because of the Don’s generosity with assisting him in starting the business, taking care of matters that involved papers and endorsements and the easy transportation of goods to various well-known distributors, he was able to build a better future for your mother in about five years’ time, right before they were married and naturally, right before you were even born.

He was able to buy a massive house. He was able to raise you in a very comfortable environment, making sure that you grew up to be greatly taken care of; that you never once felt abandoned or alone, that you wouldn’t have to think twice in asking for something in whatever it is that you wanted and needed. Eventually, he was able to send you off to prestigious schools throughout your studies, even enrolled you to some classes that could develop a fundamental hobby such as drawing and playing the violin, taking any kind of measure without hesitation as long as it will assure him that he has truly done everything he can to lead you to a great future.

When you asked why Don Jungsoo offered so much to him despite the both of them not being blood related, he responded by saying “Your grandpa and him go way back. He always says that if it weren’t for your grandpa, he wouldn’t have found the success he has today.”

Hearing him say that, you were eager to meet Don Jungsoo, mostly because you never had the chance to meet your grandfather who passed away just months before you were brought to the world. At the age of twelve years old, while getting home from school that day, you were granted that opportunity as you arrived at the villa and saw an elderly man conversing with your dad in the common room, the both of them in the middle of a warm handshake, kind of like a goodbye.

That’s when you officially first met him, the Godfather, as Inhwan introduced you, promptly apologizing to Don Jungsoo for only doing so at that instance. Don Jungsoo harbored no hard feelings of course, knowing that it was nothing personal and was merely just a loss of opportunity because of the winery that Inhwan had to constantly oversee and the errands he had to do for the Family. Besides, Don Jungsoo already had the chance to meet you at your baptism and at a birthday of one of his grandsons that Inhwan and his wife were invited to, but you were very young back then to even remember it yourself.

As your eyes met that day, Don Jungsoo regarded you with delight almost immediately, fondly commenting that he thought you definitely inherited certain facial features from the father side of the family and that you have grown from a cute baby to a wonderful little girl. You smiled as he did, mumbling a shy thank you before instinctively hiding behind Inhwan’s waist, a gesture that Don Jungsoo chuckled at. It didn’t take long before you politely said goodbye when he once again concluded his meeting with your father because of the short interruption, the two men he brought along with him expressing their farewells to Inhwan too with a squeeze on Inhwan’s shoulder and also a pat on the back.

Even if that day was so long ago and was only a fragment of your childhood memories, you can always still remember that moment as if it just happened not that long ago. That day was indeed remarkable for you, since there stood the man that your dad has been talking about with so much honor and respect; the man that apparently raised your family from the ashes, the man who gave your father the chance to redeem himself, that it shouldn’t be questioned why Inhwan would treat Don Jungsoo in such a way.

You didn’t need a grown-up’s mind to realize that Don Jungsoo was an influential man. He showed it in his speech, his luxurious suit, and the people he seemed to have posing as his guard. He gave off an air of utmost authority, like there was no mistaking that he was a force you didn’t want to be reckoned with, a figure that people didn’t just respect, but also feared—and for most of your life, you only thought that it was because he was filthy and crazy rich. After all, rich people had all the means in the universe that could grant them the power to rule the entire world.

In Don Jungsoo’s case, his clan, the Jeon Family or more publicly known as JSG Group, was known to be the owner of a power company that chose renewable energy as its priority, the said establishment considered as the best across the state and among its competitors. Aside from the financial gain they already acquired with their principal enterprise, they have bought other businesses that stem from different fields—food and restaurant, motor vehicles, and even health care institutions.

They also had a lot of significant contacts, all who were as filthy and crazy rich as they were—were even secured when it came to legal matters because of the people they knew that were distinguished law practitioners; moreover, they had many friends that were involved notably in politics. It was those reasons why Don Jungsoo was named as one of the most powerful men and richest men in Seoul and has contributed so much with the immense accomplishment of your father’s winery as well. From your knowledge, JSG Group was a major shareholder of the wine company and has appointed Inhwan as the CEO to supervise its growing business.

Amidst all of that though, you shouldn’t have been naive enough to think that the winery’s said triumph was only made possible because of the Don’s well-known colossal wealth. You shouldn’t have been too dependent on the explanation that it was because Don Jungsoo was just inherently successful for everything to just go the way he wanted—for everything to fall into place in just a snap of his fingers.

It was only when you got particularly closer to one of his grandsons, Jeon Jeongguk, that you got a glimpse of what the Family precisely ran that made them so acclaimed and worshiped. It was only then did you understand and get to know what goes on behind the scenes that brought the Jeon Family such eminence, and whether your knowledge of it was for the better or for the worst, you didn’t really know.

━ CHAPTER I.

You and Jeongguk have been well acquainted since your youth. You knew him as the Don’s grandchild, the youngest in the eight that he had, and is said to be even affectionately referred to as Don Jungso’s ‘golden boy’ for he truly could do no wrong in his grandfather’s eyes.

To the Don, Jeongguk was shaped and made to be part of the business from the second he was born. Don Jungsoo said this with utmost confidence and pride in every chance he got for Jeongguk held all the qualities that he was expecting to come from an adequate head of their organization in the future. Jeongguk grew up to be a man who honored the Family’s good morals; a man who knew of loyalty, who valued true brotherhood; a man who knew when to use his brain or wield his fist; a man who you could sit down and reason with with the aim of diplomacy; a man who was adept in getting in the good sides of people, even the enemies, with his sweet tongue.

In Don Jungsoo’s three sons, there were always two or three qualities that were missing in his personal criteria for him to applaud them like he applauded his golden boy. His eldest son, Jeongguk’s father, thought too much, hesitated a lot in his choices, always wanted the majority to decide on something before he decided himself; the middle child, has never been interested in taking part of the business and most of the time remained distant with the Family in general, often treating it as nonexistent when got together with the rest of them on holidays and such; and as for the youngest, he was seen as too much of a coward to be relied on in any important mission by the Don, but he was at least dedicated in helping out in the best way he could to not be appreciated still..

As for the Don’s grandchildren, he had six girls and two boys. Since it was never an option by the Don to begin with to inflict the problems of the Family business to any of its women, his six granddaughters were ruled out automatically in his head and he only spoiled them of gifts and of love as his means to let them have a taste of what the business provided. In regards to his grandson aside from Jeongguk, who came from the middle child, the boy was much like his father who didn’t want anything to do with their source of outcome for him to be taken into mind. The Don respected the decision of his middle child and didn’t force him or his son to embrace their living, though he at least expected that they remain close to the family when it came to personal matters.

Jeongguk entered the business at the early age of 15 years old. It wasn’t supposed to be that way, for it was too young and too soon, but it was a time where there was prominent tension between the Four Families of Seoul that Jeongguk’s father convinced himself that would feel more at peace with if he knew that his son at least knew how to use a gun. Of course, the Don wasn’t consented first before Jeongguk was taught to defend himself and Don Jungsoo disapproved of Hanseo’s decision, as he always did, however, there was nothing even he could do to reverse what has already been and instead of acting like things were the way they were, in a poor attempt to save whatever innocence that is still left on the boy’s mind, he permitted Jeongguk to be introduced to their ways and to the Mafia.

Just a year after Jeongguk was brought in, he “made his bones” by being a member of Inhwan’s regime and partaking in an operation that had something to do with confronting a businessman to cave in to what the Don offered. The man was supposed to pick sides, to choose between serving the Jeon Family like he has been for half of his life or the Lee Family who came into the picture and threatened to do expeditions for them, and when the businessman declared that he was now loyal to the latter and detested his association to the Jeon clan, Inhwan permitted Jeongguk to do the honors of assassinating the traitor a few days later, thus, officially acknowledging him as a made man.

For the years that followed, Jeongguk became Inhwan’s right-hand man. It was the Don’s intention to place Jeongguk under Inhwan’s faction rather than Hanseo, for he thought that having Hanseo show his own son the ropes of the business was a little unhealthy given the man’s known wariness for the safety of his only child. So, Jeongguk became closer with Inhwan instead when it came to anything related to the business; the Caporegime he was serving trained him to be better and to be sharper in what he did.

“Jeongguk, you’ve met my daughter before, right? ____?” Inhwan said as he welcomed the grandson of the Don to his home, walking with him to his office supposedly but before they could get to the room, they had to pass through the kitchen where you were preparing yourself a meal.

Jeongguk, now 23 at that time, glanced at you and was able to instantly discern your familiar face. You’ve been a guest at some parties that his family has held in the past, he has heard your name escape past people’s lips multiple times before in casual conversations, but this was perhaps the first time that the both of you were exchanging introductions. He only knew you as Inhwan’s daughter who the Caporegime always mentioned in great esteem for being the top student of your university’s honor list; the only daughter who Inhwan cherished after his wife passed on ten years ago and who typically lived in the campus dormitory since she attended college, hence why he never had the chance to see you so close before (aside from the fact that he has studied overseas for the last four years, of course).

You made eye contact and the second you two did, Jeongguk approached you in courtesy, extending out a hand. “It’s nice to formally meet you.”

You looked at your father then back at Jeongguk, wiping your hand on the towel by the counter and finally shaking his hand. “The pleasure is all mine.”

When Inhwan and Jeongguk arrived at the office, it was obvious that you were still in the young boy’s mind. He never said anything about you again throughout the affairs he had to discuss with Inhwan though, as he thought of it as disrespectful to be straightforward with his attraction towards you to your father, but it was from that day forward that he began visiting your household frequently, even the dormitory you stayed at during weekdays, just to get to know you better, and let you get to know him more too. He was definitely interested in being more than friends, but he wanted things to run naturally and not come out as forced for him to be truly blunt about his feelings.

“I’ve been hearing that you’ve been spending a lot of time with Inhwan’s daughter these past weeks,” Hanseo, Jeongguk’s father, opened up for dinner one night. “You like the girl?”

“Would he spend the majority of his time with her if he didn’t?” His mother, Yeonjin, retorted.

Hanseo remained serious as he spoke again. “If your intentions aren’t good with her, you should drop it, Guk. She’s the daughter of one of our close family friends. It’s not good to go behind Inhwan’s back and steal his child away. If what you’re only looking for is one good night, don’t try finding it with ____.”

Jeongguk laid down his spoon gently. He was slightly offended to be viewed in that kind of light by his Pop, but he was a young man after all, and young men certainly didn’t go for serious relationships these days. “Should I ask Inhwan first before I pursue anything serious with ____ then?”

His parents shared a look; Hanseo snorted even in amazement while Yeonjin remained smiling.

“Are your intentions good with ____?” Hanseo repeated.

“I like her,” Jeongguk said. “She’s interesting, and she’s kind, and she’s beautiful, and most importantly, she gets me. We can talk for hours and I wouldn’t know because time doesn’t move as fast when I’m with her.”

Hanseo continued staring at him, analyzing him, trying to guess if he was being honest with what he just said. After what seemed like a minute of scrutinizing Jeongguk, he shrugged as if it was suddenly not a big deal. “I’ll talk to Inhwan, get him to agree in setting you up with his daughter,” Hanseo assured him.

“I can do that myself. I’ll talk to Inhwan.”

“You want to talk to Inhwan yourself?”

“Yes. I want to assure him that I’m serious with what I want with ____.”

“In that degree, we might as well just arrange the both of you two wed.”

“No, no,” Jeongguk shook his head immediately, “I don’t want it to be forced. I don’t want to rush things. I just want to know that it’s okay and my personal interests won’t affect the Family.”

The following day, Hanseo still talked to Inhwan about Jeongguk’s attraction to you as a heads up. Inhwan just chuckled, admittedly fond with Jeongguk to think of it as a bad idea, nodded, and said that as long as Jeongguk won’t do anything that would harm you or disrespect you on purpose, then he was going to be on board with whatever relationship Jeongguk was going to have with indeed his only daughter; his permission was the least of what he could give considering that Jeongguk was the Godfather’s grandson. Besides, he really wasn’t a stranger to Jeongguk at this point; he practically raised him along with the others with Inhwan’s significant role in the Family business to perceive him as not a good fit for you.

On the Friday of that very week, Jeongguk went to the campus grounds of your university. He waited outside the building where he knew you would be taking your last class, leaning against the hood of his lavish Maranello with his arms crossed and his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. Passersby ogled at him; murmured about his vehicle, some even took sneaky snapshots to send to their friends about how there was such a car in the premises. Even Jeongguk himself was well talked about by the students, with his right arm covered with elegant yet intimidating tattoos, the striking manner in which he stood and leaned there, and the fact that he was wearing this orangish yellow short-sleeved Fendi button down and was pulling it off despite how its color and style contradicted to the dangerous aura he was giving.

When you got out of the building, still conversing with a classmate, it took you a few more seconds to notice him; if it weren’t for a distant voice of another classmate saying how there was a ‘literal world treasure’ before his eyes, you wouldn’t have curiously looked forward and saw Jeongguk there, already staring at you, head tilted to the side while he indulged himself in the beauty of your appearance. As you regarded his presence with a smile, he lifted his sunglasses, pushing it past his forehead and over his hair, and flashed a smirk at you.

“Who’s that hot piece of ass?” Your friend, with her jaw slightly hanging down, blatantly asked. “Do you know him?”

“He’s a family friend.”

“A family friend?”

“A good family friend.” You grinned all knowingly. “I’ll see you next week.”

You skipped down the stairs without giving your friend a chance to interrogate you further and stopped right in front of Jeongguk who met you halfway. He had a handsome grin on his face and upon your arrival, automatically reached out to get your bag for you, a gesture that you stopped from happening by swaying your tote bag and books to the other side of where he was reaching for.

“Are you just going to act like you coming here is a thing we planned?” you asked with a chuckle.

The grin hasn’t left his mouth, only transforming into a playful one. “Sorry. I’ve always been under the impression that on one of these days, you want me to whisk you away before you get home and take you somewhere far.”

“Ah, of course, you have read my mind and obtained one of my deepest desires. Though I’m assuming this far place we’re pertaining to is the beach? What’s with this polo?” You couldn’t help but tease, even touching the hem to straighten it for a second.

Jeongguk remained looking at you, shamelessly ignoring your teasing. “Pop already talked with your Dad. And I already talked with him too.”

“Talked about what?” You were still examining the print of his top.

“About us.”

That had you flickering your gaze up to meet his, your delight not being concealed as the ends of your lips twitched. “What about us?”

Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “Come on, don’t pretend that you don’t know what this thing is between us.”

“I’m not following, Guk.” The mischief in your gaze said otherwise and he chuckled, shaking his head, successfully getting your belongings this time when he reached for it. “What is this thing between us? All I know is that we’re great family friends and that—”

“Go out with me,” he cut you off, not letting you go longer with your act, “go out with me and let me show you a good time. More than great family friends tonight. What do you say?”

“Tonight?” You at least looked pleased and willing. “I might have to ask my father first.”

“I told you, I already asked him.”

“Even with what you want to do tonight?”

“All I want to do tonight is to take you out on a date. Just putting it out there just so we’re clear.”

You chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, crystal clear.”

“All I need is your yes, ____,” he added. “Won’t you give me that yes?”

He knew he was going to get what he wanted either way in how you smiled, how your cheeks blushed, and how you were abruptly getting fidgety, a thing you did that he noticed would only showcase itself whenever you were giddy or nervous. Nonetheless, the rush of serotonin didn’t stop you from teasing him again when you gave your answer. “I would, but I’m not exactly dressed in an attire that matches yours. I mean, I don’t even know if I have something that’s as flashy as that in my closet.”

“You’re really amused with what I’m wearing, aren’t you?”

“I just have never seen you in anything other than black or any other dark color.” You snorted. “But I like it. You look good. Very suave, still.”

“You really think that?”

“Yeah, I’m serious. You look very handsome.”

Jeongguk had noticed too that you were not one to shy away from speaking your thoughts out. It was another trait he liked about you. “Alright, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, come on—” he laughed when you did— “get in the car and I’ll drive you home first so that you can change.”

You nodded, eagerly heading to the passenger’s side, Jeongguk doing the same. “Where will you take me after that?”

“To the beach. Like you said.”

You laughed louder at that. “Sounds amazing.”

He opened the door for you and pushed it closed once you were settled inside.

Jeongguk did take you to the beach that afternoon. It was counted as your first date. You laid in the sand with him, the both of you talking about your day and other things that came to mind. You ate some cheap good food at the near convenience store, an occurrence that Jeongguk almost stopped from happening since he wanted to take you somewhere nicer for dinner, but you refused and insisted that you didn’t want anything heavy or expensive for that matter; you just wanted to be with him and act like teenage couples that couldn’t get rid of the too-happy smiles on their faces while they spent the day with their lover. Of course, you didn’t tell him the last part verbally, didn’t tell him directly yet that you wanted him to see you as a lover, but Jeongguk got the message and exactly went along with what you secretly hoped for.

By the time the sun was nowhere to be seen and the night had fallen, he told you that you two should probably get going home. The ride back was approximately 30 minutes long and he didn’t want to abuse the trust that Inhwan granted him by keeping you up too late and until the last minute for the first date. Thankfully, you agreed without a fuss, and for the whole time he drove you back to the villa, your hand was intertwined with his, laid on your thigh that was closer to the gearstick so he wouldn’t have trouble switching gears and holding your hand at the same time. He had to pretend that he wasn’t too happy with the show of affection you were sharing with him, but there was no mistaking from his expression throughout the drive that he was thrilled.

“Thank you for today, Guk,” you said as he stopped in front of your home, pushing the button that unlatched the seatbelt. “I had fun.”

“Thank God.” He laughed and so did you. You gazed at each other for a while before he squeezed your hand and let go, about to unfasten his seatbelt. “Let me walk you to the front door.”

“That won’t be needed.” You held his bicep to stop him, a successful tactic. “Dad’s probably home already and I know you say that he’s okay with us doing this but I still prefer if he wouldn’t see what I’m going to do.”

He knitted his eyebrows together, close to asking what you meant but you had already launched yourself towards him and kissed his mouth, catching him completely off guard. “Good night,” you said then, grinning, though your attempt to get out of the vehicle urgently after you said that failed to do a dramatic exit as Jeongguk gently pulled you back with a gentle hold on your wrist to kiss you again, this time in a fuller and proper way.

His calloused palm landed on your cheek, another on your neck, and when he leaned away in what seemed like hours of your lips on the other, your tongues clashing at one or multiple points in fervor—it was only so he could do the boyish gesture of smirking at you, kissing you again instantly afterwards, a soft groan rumbling in his throat while he kept you a bit longer in his car than he planned. That night marked the beginning of your budding relationship with him.

It also marked the moment when he realized that it was your nerve and determination that Jeongguk truly loved the best when it came to you. However, it wasn’t going to be for another few years that he would soon discover that just like everything in the world, your nerve and determination had limitations of its own, that there were going to be occasions wherein you would back out and play it safe—and he was willing to fill that portion of cowardice you possessed with the courage he was born with and worked hard for in his bones.

━ CHAPTER II.

Growing up, Inhwan never pressured you with the possibility that you’d have to take over the winery once you were old enough. Instead, he insisted that you follow your own dreams and he will be here, always right behind you, supporting you in any way that he could to make sure that dream of yours would come true.

Truth be told, it was never his intention to build the wine company in hopes that it could be a permanent business for his children and grandchildren—at least not at first when Don Jungsoo proposed the idea to him. The Don only told Inhwan that he should think of another venture that the Jeon Family can go into, a venture that would serve as another front for the real Family business, and in return for his efforts to build this future company and act as its CEO for the following years to come, he would be granted most of its earnings, since being so would not cause an issue with the Family due to his record of loyalty, which Inhwan felt very grateful for.

At Inhwan’s motivation, you decided to go towards the path of being an accomplished lawyer. Of course, that would take more years of studying and more years of general sleepless nights and frustration until you probably would have to wish death to fall upon you later on. But you were determined to prove yourself out there and do something that your heart genuinely longed for, not caring how long it would take and how much you would have to endure just to be at the top of your game. Inhwan, like promised, was more than willing to provide you with everything necessary for a bright road heading to your dream.

Inhwan knew you were an intelligent woman. The fact slapped him in the face every time you talked and made comments about the news or the wine company, speaking your mind out even at times no one frankly asked for your thoughts. You weren’t only smart because you knew how to memorize the texts on your school books—you were a true intellectual. He knew that and knew that he didn’t need to ask the Godfather to call important contacts to be guaranteed that you will get into the finest law school in Seoul once you were a few months away from finishing your undergraduate studies—but he still did, just to double-check, just to feel at ease that he won’t have to answer to his daughter’s disappointment when you discover that you didn’t get in.

You still got in though, thank goodness, without any of the Family’s special friends pulling some strings for him, earning it fair and square. The next thing you know, you have already spent four years in law school and have graduated, eventually passing the bar exam, your name printed as one of the top scorers. Once again, Inhwan was grateful that he didn’t have to contact anyone, knowing that if you discovered what he did, you would take it as more of an insult than a favor since more than anyone, it was supposed to be Inhwan who trusted your ability to pass on your own.

In celebration for yet another impressive feat of yours, he hosted a big get-together in the villa, inviting the Family and other people to share the momentous occasion with the both of you. Inhwan, though positive that the Don has not changed his mind in including women openly in the business, knew that the Godfather would find your obvious achievement beneficial to the Family, so he made sure to give highlight to your passing (even if it was just the start) as much as he could. You’ve been dating the Don’s grandson for four years now after all; it was only natural for Inhwan to always want to bring you into a better light and deem you as indeed worthy.

“Guk,” you breathlessly chuckled, your boyfriend’s tongue swiping against your skin, “they’re going to notice we’ve gone missing.”

Jeongguk pulled away from your neck, the skin of your throat littered with red marks that you’d have to cover up by changing into a turtle neck after the both of you were done. “So what? They’ll just understand that I’m just giving my smart girl her present.”

“And what is your present?” You couldn’t help but release a small moan when he lapped his tongue once more on your flesh and pressed himself against you deliciously harder on the mattress. “Your dick?”

“What? You don’t want it?” He snickered.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I have a greater gift other than my manhood, angel.” He leaned back fully, a handsome grin on his features, his arms supporting half of his weight as he hovered you. “Do you wanna see it?”

“Your manhood? Well, we both know it’s not something I haven’t seen before—”

“No,” he rolled his eyes, snatching a long kiss on your mouth for your silliness, “my gift. What I bought for you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You really brought something for me?”

“Of course.” Another kiss, now on your forehead, and he stood up.

He went to your dresser, took the small paper bag that you didn’t even notice the first time around for you were too preoccupied with Jeongguk’s lips to mind anything else, and sat down on the spot he was in just seconds ago to officially present it to you. You watched in anticipation as he brought a black box out, your eyes widening impulsively at what it possibly meant and what it had inside though before you could speak, Jeongguk beat you to it. “I’m not proposing. In case you were thinking about that,” he said, placing the paper bag he didn’t need anymore on the floor.

You released a huff of relief. “I would have said no anyways.”

He flashed his eyes on you, hurt. “Really?”

“You’re not proposing, right?”

“Yeah, but it’d be nice to know that if I was, you would have said yes regardless.”

“I would have, but just not at this moment. Wouldn’t want being engaged to you steal the limelight of my accomplishment.”

He snorted. “Can’t say you’re wrong. It’d be a nationwide phenomenon.”

“Sometimes, you can go too far over the top of your head, sweetheart.” You gently held his chin to drag his face closer so you could plant a kiss on his mouth.

Jeongguk smirked and opened the velvet box. There inside lay a thin gold chain necklace with five diamonds, the five of them glittering and placed tightly next to each other in the middle. You unconsciously held your breath at its gorgeousness, your interest in jewelry not being hidden at that instant, for you can’t deny that as you got older, your love for shiny things increased too, but then you thought about how this must have cost a fortune—not that it would be any problem to Jeongguk if it had—that a frown came to your face the next instant.

“Jeongguk…”

“I didn’t spend that much on it,” he defended immediately, aware that you would open the topic of how much was this. “This didn’t put me close to bankruptcy or something.”

“Huh, that’s not at all a very guilty thing to say, Guk.”

He chuckled at the sarcasm. “Well, okay—you can’t expect me not to go all out sometimes. You deserve gifts like this.”

“Do I really?”

“Of course, you do, angel.” He took the necklace from its box. “Turn around for me. Let me put it on you and let’s see what it looks like.”

You obliged, scooting towards him and spinning around to let your back face him. You swept your hair to the other side and lifted it up, Jeongguk swinging his arms over you and laying the necklace flat against your skin, the five diamonds just by your collar. The cold sensation of the chain made goosebumps rise on your nape; Jeongguk locked it in place and lightly pulled the diamonds lower to fix it on your neck.

He kissed your shoulder sweetly when he was done. “Okay, let’s see it.”

You both stood up, trudging to the full length mirror you had in your room. As you stood before it, you could clearly see the diamonds gleaming with enthusiasm; you’re already sure that no one would miss it when you go outside and greet some guests again. You know they would automatically think that it was Jeongguk who gave you such an exquisite present, considering that even though your father would not hesitate to give you expensive jewelry like this one, Inhwan didn’t exactly have the same good taste as your boyfriend to have the necklace mistaken as his gift.

“Looks like it was made for you,” Jeongguk commented with a proud smile, kissing the same spot on your shoulder. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

He chuckled, encircling his arms around your waist, still placing sweet kisses on your skin.

“How much is this?” You still couldn’t help but ask.

He shook his head. “No, no, this is a gift, I won’t tell you how much it costs.”

“Just give me an estimate, Guk.”

“It’s as grand as my love for you.”

You scoffed. “I’ll be offended if I discover that this isn’t as expensive in my head.”

He laughed. “I assure you it’s worth a lot. When have I ever given you anything that didn’t match your significance to me?”

“That’s your flaw, really. You spend too much.”

“I don’t mind.” He nuzzled his face on your neck. “Not if it’s for you.”

You turned around and embraced his torso, smiling, touched and swooned by his words as he always had the ability to do. You pushed yourself upwards with your toes, properly kissing him on the lips and Jeongguk reciprocated the gesture with a content smile, his hand on your hip tightening.

“Thank you,” you murmured. “I appreciate it, you know I do. But next time, how about you give me something that isn’t too glorious, alright?”

“No promises.”

You narrowed your eyes on him, a complaint bubbling inside you though just as you were about to say it out loud, Jeongguk was quick enough to prevent your actions by capturing your mouth again with his, humming in a teasing manner as he slowly led you back to the bed.

Three knocks on your door interrupted the moment, the two of you freezing at the sound. “Guk? Are you in there?” A familiar voice was heard from the other side of the door.

“No, he isn’t,” you promptly lied.

“____, I can sense that you’re holding him captive even from miles away.” He chuckled.

You sighed and untangled yourself from Jeongguk, opening the door.

There outside at the hall stood Seokjin, the adoptive brother of Jeongguk who was also a good friend of yours and an already valued lawyer himself. He was five years older than him and six years older than you, and being someone who always treated you like a little sister of his own, especially when you started to date Jeongguk, he was always kind to remind you since your law school days that if ever you needed anyone’s guidance about your shared field, he was there and was only one call away. You told him you were certainly going to take him up for that someday when you indeed needed his help, very comfortable with him to possibly open the topic in the future.

Seokjin glanced at Jeongguk. “Your grandpop wants to talk to you.”

“What is it about?” Jeongguk was smoothing his hair.

“Business, as usual.” Seokjin looked at you next. “Sorry for stealing him away—and in the middle of your party too. But it’s important.”

“No worries, I understand. Besides, Dad might not be too thrilled if he caught us in here before you have. We were just going to join the others again anyway.”

“Ah, yes, remember to keep yourself pure before marriage, ____. Saving yourself for your wedding night is definitely still the trend with the old folks.” Seokjin grinned.

“A possible yet at the same time impossible task,” you further joked.

“I’ll see you again later, okay?” Jeongguk appeared beside you to head to the door, pecking your cheek and glancing at his brother. “Jin, look at what I’ve bought, isn’t it beautiful?” He pointed at the necklace you wore.

Seokjin turned his eyes on it like asked and pursed his lips in approval, staring at it with an amused expression, nodding. “Gorgeous. You wear it well, ____. Of course, that is if we’re talking about the diamond necklace and not the forming hickeys.”

Your face burned; you tried to look nonchalant to preserve what’s left of your dignity, moving your hair then to the front to conceal the love bites. “Well, both were given by this clever guy right here.” You glared at Jeongguk who was staring at your neck now with an even prouder gaze. You hit him on the stomach because of it.

“That doesn’t come as a surprise.” Seokjin snorted and patted Jeongguk’s back as the young man stepped out. “We’ll catch up with you again after we’re done. I won’t keep him for too long.”

“No, it’s really alright. Settle what needs to be settled. In fact, don’t bother to return him if it’s that important.”

Seokjin laughed, pushing Jeongguk away before the latter could snap something back. “Noted. Congratulations again, princess. I look forward to seeing you in court one day.”

“Thanks, Jin. Hopefully not against each other though.” You smirked.

He chuckled and strided forward with an arm around Jeongguk’s shoulders, leading him to the direction where your father’s office was located.

You’ve been informed that the Jeon Family has been talking about matters concerning the winery. The Don, being the Chairman of the board, was discussing affairs with Inhwan that you weren’t really aware of for your father never liked sharing them with you.

It was odd in your opinion, to still be kept under the light about anything that involved the wine company, for you’ve had the impression that once you grew up and has made it apparent that you could be a good help to the business despite your choice of profession not entirely centered around it, he would be more open to letting you in the scoop. Instead, you still had to mostly hear news about what he planned for it through hints from Jeongguk or other employees. Whenever you’d ask Inhwan yourself if there was anything you could do for the business, he would only squeeze your shoulders as he hugged you from the side, assuring you that you didn’t have to worry about anything, and that he could manage on his own and with the help of the Don just fine.

You let it slide but you were always salty about his secrecy deep down as you even reckon that Seokjin was more involved with it than you were. You’ve eavesdropped once in a conversation shared by your father and his friends at the patio of your villa that Seokjin was practicing his law degree exclusively for the Don (you’ve taken it as he was a part of the lawyers representing JSG Group), meaning he probably took care of anything related to the legalities of the winery too.

In a part of your mind, you didn’t get why Seokjin wouldn’t want to kick start his career first by gaining experience and taking a lot of various cases first rather than working for one big client after graduation. You knew the Don probably could offer him a sum that no client could ever give him, but in regards to the practice of law itself, you weren’t so sure. It seemed to be working out for Seokjin regardless though; he has always been sharp-witted and sensible anyways to not make the right decision.

Eventually, you’d have the opportunity of knowing exactly how sharp-witted and sensible Seokjin can be; you’d be far astonished to the point of actually beginning to deem him as a better lawyer than you were yourself, because unlike you, Seokjin had a certain quality within him that made him the perfect legal adviser.

━ CHAPTER III.

Jeongguk, since the day he became a made man, was always reminded that everything that revolved around the Mafia was strictly business. The transactions, the meetings, the negotiations, and even the violence that may come along with it if diplomacy was not the effective way to go was part of the whole ordeal. He had to instill in his head from the very start that nothing from their world should be taken personally—even if a member gets hurt because of another Family or a mafioso becomes a traitor to their organization. Everything was still going to be considered as business or done for the sake of business; nothing should ever be taken personally or with the aim to hurt the mafioso’s personal life.

That was one of the reasons why the Cosa Nostra was still seen as an honorable society despite the dangers and the various dirty businesses it carried out. Even though their people were comprised of crooks, thieves, murderers, and other nouns to describe generally bad people, they still had a set of morals of their own that they religiously kept within themselves and followed. However, there were flaws and loopholes to those ethics they observed, and the thin line that separated business matters and personal matters was something they overstepped at times in being too inflamed with their innate greediness.

“Are you sure it just happened? No one attacked my father?” Hanseo frustratingly asked through the phone. “How about that guy? Jang Yeocheol? He was obviously more than displeased when the Don refused to fund his plan for that wack of a narcotic casino. He didn’t do anything about it?”

Jeongguk waited patiently in the single leather chair inside the office. One thing he was sure of is not to rush and ask questions when Hanseo was asking them to someone else and was obviously agitated over the line. The person he was talking to was the Don’s bodyguard, the person who was in charge of driving him in and out of the office and to any other errands he wanted to go; his name was Yoongi and from Jeongguk’s knowledge, he was also one of Inhwan’s most trusted men, a guy he considered as his right-hand man since Jeongguk formed his own regime.

“Okay. I’m sending men there for backup. No doubt the news is already out about the Don’s condition.” Hanseo ended the call and glanced at Jeongguk.

“What happened to Grandpop?” he put forward.

“Stroke. Just fell in his office chair and his secretary found him there. Don’t worry, he’s okay, he was spotted early on and the doctor in charge of him is Dr. Hwang. I’m sure he’ll be doing anything to make sure the old man’s okay. You know him, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Jeongguk nodded. “He owes Grandpop a lot of favors. Should I do something? Should I go to the hospital too?”

“No, no, I don’t want you going there until I’m sure there really isn’t foul play involved. I know it’s not unlikely for Pop to suffer from something like that, the man’s not getting younger after all, but it’s still better to be sure. I’m going to have them review the CCTVs at the office; I’ll ask a guy I know to look through the phone calls of anyone close to the Don recently. Especially Yoongi—just for a safety measure, I don’t think that kid has it in him to betray us if that was the case.” Hanseo dialled another number on his phone.

Jeongguk took out his phone as well, the other one he used for the business. “Don’t you want me to call anyone too? The other Three Families might be jumping on this opportunity to put us in the bad light; for sure they’ll have the people think that his condition is worse than it already is.”

“I already have Seokjin working on that. He’ll be talking to the director at HSN News to make sure nothing leaks or at least nothing makes a big deal out of it. Why don’t you just go ahead and talk to your uncles? Ask them where they are and how they’re doing.”

“Really? That’s all you want me to do?”

“Yes, Guk, just go ahead and do it for me.” Hanseo made a hand movement that meant ‘go do it’ as he said his greetings to the person who just answered his call.

Jeongguk started calling his two other uncles at his father’s request; the second eldest, though having never shown his obvious affection for their Family, was panicked when he got Jeongguk’s call, quickly asking if the Don was alright. Jeongguk assured him that everything was okay and that they were handling it here in the headquarters, a.k.a. the home of Don Jungsoo itself, efficiently. His uncle murmured his praises of thanks to the heavens and promised that he’ll be travelling as fast as he could back to Seoul, in which Jeongguk immediately said that the best thing that he could do there is wait for a while until they confirm that matters are truly fine; once all of that is done, Jeongguk will ask Inhwan to send a couple of men over to his uncle so that his travel can be arranged, a preposition that the second eldest son of Don Jungsoo agreed without further complaint.

For the youngest of his two uncles, the Family scaredy-cat as Hanseo liked to tease his brother for, already knew what was happening when he answered the call. It was obvious that he was shaken but was gratefully getting his shit together as he told Jeongguk that he’s already digging into it too. This uncle of his talked about how even though the Don was already in his late 70s, he still believed that his father would not fall into sickness like that, a statement that Jeongguk had to disagree to since it was him who had to see the Don every single day and see him act more like his age the more time passed by, but he chose not to say anything for the sake of his uncle who still thought of the Don so highly that even natural causes just didn’t seem plausible for him.

After Jeongguk was done making that last call, he was about to go back to the office and update himself with the next course of actions that Hanseo must already be devising when he saw your Caller’s ID flash on his screen and he figured you must have heard the news too. He answered quickly, hearing your concerned tone over the line right as he pressed the phone again against his ear.

“Hey, Guk, is he alright?” you asked, your sweet voice entering his ears that he unconsciously relaxes, not noticing that for the past thirty minutes or so of talking with his uncles and going over with what he knew so far, he has been tense and sweating through his palms.

“Yeah, he is. They’re still checking on him though but he’s fine.”

“That’s great to hear. I was surprised when I saw the article online. Do you know that they already wrote something about Don Jungsoo?”

Jeongguk closed his eyes in exasperation. “Now I do.”

“It’s horrible. I mean, I understand that they may think that the news would downplay the company but why would they go as far as reporting a personal matter like that so quickly. It’s practically inhumane.”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk sighed, agreeing despite knowing the precise answer to your wonder—that the news of the Don’s illness would bring definitely confidence in the other Families, that others would assume that the Jeon clan wouldn’t be as powerful as they were without Don Jungsoo, given that the majority of the important contacts they had were acquired thanks to their loyalty to Don Jungsoo.

A short pause. “How about you, sweetheart?” you asked. “How are you holding up?”

He shrugged even if you couldn’t see it. It was the first time someone asked how he was doing after the whirlwind of events. “I don’t know. I’d say I’m okay but I don’t know. I don’t feel good.”

“You must be feeling bad, I’m sorry for asking a stupid question. Your grandfather is in the hospital for god’s sake—it wouldn’t be unusual for you to feel that way. Should we visit him where he’s admitted later when I’m done here? Or you can go ahead and I’ll follow.”

“Sure, just right after I check in with Pop. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go there together.”

“Okay, whatever you say.”

“Thanks for asking how I am, angel.” He sighed, a small smile appearing on his features. He hated it when you downplayed your thoughtfulness by claiming it was stupid; he didn’t want you to think that he didn’t think it was sweet or touching. “I needed to hear your voice after the news. It’s a nice reliever, you know?”

“He’ll be fine, Guk.” You assured him. “The Don’s a strong man—a good man too. He’ll be okay.”

Jeongguk nodded. “Yeah, of course. He’ll be fine.” A thought jumped in his mind abruptly. “How’s your day, by the way? Have you talked with your dad?”

“Yeah, he called. He said he’ll be sending a chauffeur for me—for what reason, I don’t know what; he said that he just wanted me to get home safely. I declined though, I told him I wanted to talk to you first. Does this have to do anything with the Don?”

There were these moments wherein Jeongguk was positive that you knew much more than what you let on. He never would think you were stupid to not get what the Family really did after all these years of your father being a caporegime and your romantic relationship with him who plays an important role in the business; it’s just that a lot of people typically only assumed that the Don’s power and wealth all rooted from the power company and the other ventures the Jeon Family pursued, that it wouldn’t surprise Jeongguk if that’s what you only thought of as well. However, there were always said times like these in which you’d give him a flicker of awareness that he’d also always find himself second guessing.

Before he could have answered, Seokjin, who had slipped inside the office with Inhwan earlier while Jeongguk was conversing with his uncles, peeked outside at the hallway and looked at him. “Your pop’s asking you to pack it up quickly. You still talking with the two?”

“No. This is already ____ I’m talking with.”

“Hurry up, kid.”

Jeongguk hated it when Seokjin called him ‘kid’, even if it was used in a context of brotherly affection. He watched as the acting Consigliere disappeared inside the office again; he focused his attention back to you, still on the line and waiting. “I have to go,” he said, not bothering to pick up where the conversation was on. “They’re asking for me.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

“I’ll text you if I get the go signal, alright? Don’t go anywhere and just stay in the firm. I’ll fetch you myself when I finish talking to them.”

“Is it really that bad for all of you to behave this way?” Your tone was joking, light, but he knew that it was a serious question.

“No, no, it’s just a precaution. I think you’re already aware that Grandpop has a lot of enemies, don’t you?”

“I know. I just don’t know why you’d have to be careful with me too.”

Everything in the Mafia was business, nothing should ever be personal; alongside that, the Families mostly kept their words in never hurting women or children. “Just a precaution,” Jeongguk repeated. “I want—and I’m sure Inhwan wants as well—for you to be safe,” he explained.

You didn’t push it. “Okay then. I’ll be here and I won’t go anywhere unless it’s you who’s taking me.”

“Good. I’ll see you later.”

“See you.”

Jeongguk got the memo four hours later that the men that Hanseo hired to investigate the Don’s case concluded that there was no foul play involved and that the stroke the Don experienced was merely a normal occurrence because of his old age. Hanseo and the others expected it already, for since the last weeks, there have been instances in which the Don’s speech would be incomprehensible, a usual symptom for the illness. However, every time they raised the concern to the Godfather, insisting that he should go and see a doctor, even going as far as bringing the doctor themselves in the headquarters, the old man dismissed every single one of their attempts and said that he was doing well.

“We still need to secure the hospital though,” Jeongguk added after. “A lot would take advantage of Grandpop’s state. They’d want to use the excuse of his body failing on its own when they succeed in doing whatever bullshit they’d come up with in trying to get rid of him.”

“That won’t be a problem. We’ve got soldatos there from Inhwan’s regime and Seokjin already talked to the Chief of the Seoul Police Department to make sure it’s handled properly there at the hospital,” Hanseo said. “I’d ask you to send more from your regime, Guk, but let’s not draw too much attention.”

“I agree,” he nodded. “Can I go there now then? I’d like to visit him, see how he’s doing personally,” Jeongguk asked.

“Sure.” Hanseo nodded with a sigh. “Your grandma is already there so look after her too, she must be in shock as well. She always scolded him with the smoking and the drinking all these years that I bet it’s what she’s going to nag about once Pop gains consciousness. Plus, from now on, I’d like it if someone who’s actually part of the Family to be beside Pop’s bed all the time.”

“Okay.” Jeongguk looked at Inhwan. “I’m picking ____ at the firm. I’m going to be bringing her to the hospital too. Is that okay?”

Inhwan always appreciated Jeongguk’s respect for him whenever it came to you. Jeongguk never once made it look like he was unworthy of Inhwan’s trust since the both of you started going out by blatantly using his title as the Don’s grandson to do what he wanted. “You do that,” Inhwan urged.

“When do you plan on proposing to her?” Hanseo suddenly brought up while Jeongguk was heading to the door. “It’s been what? Five years? When are you going to tie the knot?”

Jeongguk glanced at Inhwan the same time Seokjin did, the Consigliere hiding the amused smirk that was beginning to show with a glass of scotch being raised to his lips. “Are you seriously going to bring that up right now, Pop? In front of Inhwan?”

“Oh, don’t mind me,” Inhwan looked teasing, “you know you already have my vote, Guk.”

“I appreciate that but I don’t plan on proposing yet,” Jeongguk said.

“How come? What are you waiting for? ____ already graduated, she’s already doing well in her job. The both of you can start trying to make a family. It won’t be easy to do that in the future, I’m just saying. We’re looking at the worst case scenario here, and you know that if anything happens to Pop, you’ll be my underboss.”

“Not yet,” Jeongguk only reiterated. “And Grandpop’s going to be fine. There’s no need for me to rush into these things.”

“Jeongguk,” it’s Seokjin who spoke next, “you do know that when the Don wakes up, he won’t be the same anymore, right? He’s already having problems with his talking even before this happened; no doubt we’ll have to expect worse for the following days.”

“Propose to ____,” Hanseo said in a more authoritative voice. “Then when Pop wakes up and he’s doing okay—if he doesn’t look as bad as we’re expecting him to be—let’s get you and ____ married. We’ll have the Don attend and then it’ll be shown on the news how the Don still has the strength to attend to one of the momentous occasions in his grandson’s life.”

“So, you want to use an intimate and personal event in my life as a publicity stunt?” Jeongguk scoffed.

“Don’t take it to heart, Guk.” His father frowned. “It’s for the Family.”

“It’s bound to happen sooner or later anyway,” Seokjin added. “You’ve been trying to find a ring, haven’t you?”

“Not really the time to bring that up, Jin.” Jeongguk clenched his jaw, though his annoyed expression quickly faded and he found himself nodding at the end. “But fine, alright. I’ll do it if it’s the way we should go.”

“Great.” Hanseo smiled. “Let’s just pray harder that the old man gets a full recovery then.”

Jeongguk drove to the law firm you were working at with the thought of marriage in his head. It wasn’t like it never hit him that it’s about time that the both of you get wed; Hanseo already pointed out that it’s already been five years, Seokjin already mentioned it too that he’s been finding an engagement ring as well. It’s not like Jeongguk still had his doubts most especially, he was already sure from the moment that the two of you uttered your first I love yous to each other in the past that you were going to be the one and only woman he’ll want to hear that from—no one else.

He was just afraid of pulling you into the Family further. It was inevitable and a given already, as he never once thought of letting you go for the sake of your possible safety. It was selfish and terrible of him but he always thought that if other members of the Family could do it and still keep their wives and children safe, why can’t he? After all, the Mafia might always resort to violence and blackmailing when certain happenings don’t fall in their favor, but as much as possible, they tried to not step over the line and harm a Mafioso’s blood family. Doing so would bring shame to their values and would wage a war between the Four Families as they’d support their member’s want for vengeance and justice. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.

Jeongguk only hoped that it’ll always remain that way for as long as the two of you lived. He doesn’t think he would take it if something happened to you because of the business he was involved in. It was already bad enough that you’re the only weakness of your father, the only person he cherished now after your mother’s passing; now you’ve managed to become Jeongguk’s apparent weakness too.

He soon arrived at the entrance of your firm’s building. He already texted that he was on his way minutes ago, so he was pleased to see you marching out of the doors quickly once you saw his vehicle, hopping inside the passenger’s side and automatically leaning towards him as you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“You good?” you asked straight off the bat, a hand on the back of his neck, fingers lightly massaging his nape.

Jeongguk relaxed again at the action and stared at you before being the one to lean towards you this time, kissing you on the mouth, longer and fuller. “I am,” he said as he let go, facing forward. “All thanks to you.”

You snorted while putting on your seatbelt. “Well, I’m glad. I take it that there are no concerning affairs about the Don?”

He only shook his head in confirmation, driving forward. It didn’t take long until you both were at the hospital; Jeongguk was satisfied to see that there were a significant number of men there at the entrance, alert and eyes continuously scanning the area. When they took notice of the Don’s grandson, one of Inhwan’s men, Yoongi who was mentioned earlier and was proven innocent, greeted the two of you and insisted on letting a soldato park the car so you both could head on your way. Jeongguk thanked him and proceeded on grasping your hand, pulling you with him as he followed Yoongi towards the Don’s room.

Jeongguk hardly looked at his grandfather while consoling his grandmother along the side. He never saw Don Jungsoo as helpless as he looked at that moment; the Don has always been a hero in Jeongguk’s eyes; his protector and the person he was sure would never desert him even if worst comes to worst. Even if the doctor in charge of Don Jungsoo already assured and explained to Jeongguk that they’ve already put the necessary meds to stop the blood clot and that they’re also monitoring the Don closely, Jeongguk somehow was still not at peace.

He looked like he was though, that he was calm and composed, thanking the doctor with such politeness the Don would commend him for before Jeongguk added that if his Grandpop comes out of the hospital better and healthier, he’ll put in a word to Hanseo to reward the doctor for the service.

“Do you want me to go out and buy food?” you whispered to Jeongguk as he stared at the television, his face expressionless and making it obvious that whatever was playing in the screen wasn’t capturing his interest; his grandmother already left to eat and get some clothes at the Jeon Residential Area, so it was just Jeongguk and you for the meanwhile until his uncles and cousins would arrive. “Guk?” You placed a hand on his thigh when he didn’t answer.

He dazely turned to you. “Yeah?”

You smiled. “Are you hungry? I can go out and buy food and you can stay here.”

“No, don’t leave.” He shook his head, scooting closer to you on the sofa you were both situated in. “I’m not that hungry yet. Are you?”

“Not that much.”

“Okay.” He held your hand and pulled you towards him with it, just so he could place an arm around your shoulder. “We can just stay here until Uncle comes.”

You gazed at him from the side. “Tell me what’s bothering you, sweetheart,” you murmured as you leaned your head back at his bicep.

He dared to smile. You always had a knack at reading his mind—it’s either that or he’s been visibly bothered for the past minutes for you to finally say something. “Just worried about Grandpop. Hate seeing him like this.”

“Yeah, I know. This sucks.” You pressed your lips together. “Dr. Hwang said he’ll be fine though. He’s already pulling through, all we’re waiting for is when he’ll wake up.”

“I have no doubt that he’ll be fine. I just don’t like waiting. I don’t like this stage—the uncertainty. Until I see his eyes open and have him talking to me, I’ll always feel bothered.”

“We can visit him everyday until that happens. Will that make you feel better about this? I bet it’ll make the Don happy too; he’ll be pleased to know his favorite grandson has always stuck by his side.” You grinned, teasing a little.

“How do you do that?” Jeongguk abruptly blurted and you raised your eyebrows. “How do you make things feel so easy? So light?” It wasn’t the time to act lovey-dovey, especially a few steps away from the Don’s bed, but Jeongguk got reminded of his father’s request to propose to you and marry you soon, and he deemed this second as one of the reasons why having you his wife would be one of the best decisions he’ll ever make if he decides to finally go forth with it.

“I’m made for you like that.” You smirked, squeezing his hand. “I’m your personalized lover.”

Jeongguk laughed. “That’s corny as fuck.”

“Excuse me? I’m trying to lighten the mood here more and you’re going to insult my attempts?” You were already laughing with him though.

“I love you.” He grinned and ducked his head to kiss your nose since your lips were too far from reach. “Always be my angel, okay?”

You dragged yourself higher to do his unfinished task, kissing him on the lips, just an innocent peck. “I’ll stay on your shoulder forever.”

“You better.”

You kissed him again. “I love you too, Guk.”

He sighed in content, petting your head gently while you laid your temple against his chest.

Jeongguk indeed came to the Don’s hospital room everyday after that, staying longer than you could as you had a job to maintain, keeping himself updated first hand about any news about his grandpop’s health. For days he sat at the farthest side of the sofa while various visitors offered their wishes of recovery to Don Jungsoo, holding the old man’s hand and kissing it, crying on it even as if to show how sincere they were, praying profusely for his fast recuperation. Sometimes they’d offer their wishes to Jeongguk or to Hanseo when the latter was present too.

Finally after nine days, the Don opened his eyes and Jeongguk was there to witness it happen, immediately jumping out of his seat and pressing the nurse call button as per protocol right after.

The Don looked at him, his old and misty eyes staring at Jeongguk. “Hanseo?” he said and even with the error, Jeongguk still smiled.

“It’s Jeongguk, Grandpop. It’s me. I’m here.”

“Jeongguk,” Don Jungsoo repeated, slowly recognizing him. “Jeongguk, my golden boy.”

Dr. Hwang and the nurses swarmed inside the room quickly and soon enough, the other members of the Family were already there too, having just gotten the news thanks to Jeongguk who called his father as soon as the medical staff were taking care of the Don. Even you managed to arrive at the hospital upon Jeongguk’s text swiftly, entering the VIP room with Inhwan and approaching Don Jungsoo alongside your father, the old man offering you a tired yet pleased smile as your gazes connected and you bowed in respect.

You stayed with Jeongguk for another two hours before one of Jeongguk’s uncles convinced him that he should go home, take a nice shower, and rest while they take their turn in looking out for the Don. Jeongguk agreed and obviously asked if you could come home with him, which you nodded to, said your farewells to the Don, and then fled with Jeongguk to go to their home at the Jeon Residential Area. Once there, you stayed in his room as he took a nice bath, sprawled your body on his bed and waited until he was done so you could ask what he wanted for dinner.

He came out of the bathroom just as you were talking with a fellow associate at the law firm on the phone. You ended the call shortly at his return and smiled at him; Jeongguk went to his wardrobe to pick out some clothes, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist that you would have been fazed about if it wasn’t an already common sight to see. Nonetheless, it was still a sight that you were happy to be blessed with, your eyes trailing to the curve of his tattoo-filled arms, his defined chest and abs, right over to his muscular back that Jeongguk noticed you were truly ogling at when he glanced at your direction.

“You’re drooling, angel.” He smirked and you flickered your stare back to his eyes. “You like what you see?”

“Don’t I always?” You let out a huge breath, Jeongguk grinning and walking to your spot on the bed.

He leaned down, tilting his head to the side and pressed his mouth against yours. You ultimately melted at his touch and your insides easily squirmed in desire with that one gesture. Jeongguk felt the same way, felt the same impulse to go where this was headed faster. Being the patient and considerate man he always was however, he waited until you made the second move, the move that will reassure him that you wanted it as much as he did, and the instance you tugged his towel downwards that caused it to fall down, he didn’t waste time in pushing you forward so that you’d lay on the bed and under him.

The Jeon Family was still a little old-fashioned sometimes because of Don Jungsoo; the Don still expressed his disapproval of premarital sex whenever the subject rose as he’s a firm believer that a woman should be kept pure before the night of the wedding. It was an ironic principle by the Don really, as he still condoned the organization protecting one of the largest strip joints in the city and subsequently caved into the business of prostitution as well. Perhaps it was just a value he wanted to keep within the family—a value that Jeongguk has honestly not been able to keep with you.

It was foreseeable though as you and Jeongguk were in your prime, only in your late 20s, still considerably young; the both of you were also a good looking pair and a very smitten one too. It simply would be impossible to think that nothing happened at least once in the five years you’ve been a couple. If that was the case, people would have to commend you two for the self-control and the dedication to keep the Don’s virtues within yourselves as well.

For the past week, Jeongguk has been longing to have you this near him. He’s been too preoccupied with his grandpop’s condition and what’s been going on in the business too that he hasn’t indulged himself in anything that could keep his mind away from it. With the Don unable to lead, it was Hanseo who acted as the boss of the Jeon Family; whether a lot approved of it or reckoned Hanseo as a great successor so far, Jeongguk wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to hear anything that would cause unnecessary anger and stress on his part, so he chose not to hear the opinions of others about it. He only knew that Seokjin argued a lot with Hanseo just to put his father in the right mindset.

It’s obvious that Jeongguk has indeed been craving this with the harsh slams of his hips against your thighs as he spreads you further. It’s been seconds since he triggered an orgasm from you after eating you out like a starved man, shoving two fingers in and out of you rapidly as well, intent on making you come and get you prepped for him as fast as he could for he truly has been too eager to feel you around him again. Two weeks of not getting to make love with you was too much of a long time for Jeongguk to put it plainly.

“You wasted your shower,” you moaned as he lifted a leg of yours over his shoulder, your intention to tease apparent even if you were already being railed deliciously.

“I can just take another one. With you.”

You felt the pit of your stomach beginning to knot once more in pleasure and Jeongguk grunted as you squeezed him tighter. He dropped your leg and fell forward, latching his mouth around a nipple while a free hand groped your other breast. You gripped the hair at the back of his head, tugging its strands firmly, prompting a louder grunt from Jeongguk that sounded more of a growl than any other sound he has made and he let your nipple go to return to your mouth.

“Fuck—” you cursed with a hiss— “I’m gonna come again.” You whined.

“Touch yourself for me,” he softly ordered.

You followed his command and reached down to strum your clit hastily, Jeongguk pounding his cock inside your cunt in a sloppier manner. He too was close and was already aiming to take the both of you to your highs without any more delay. In a few more thrusts, more dirty whispers on your ear as he coaxed you to come again—to milk him dry and to let yourself go—your second orgasm rippled through you greatly; your loud noises of ecstacy probably being heard beyond the four walls of Jeongguk’s bedroom that he covered your mouth with his own to not let anyone near catch it. He might be delighted to let anyone know you were being treated well in the bedroom, but he still valued your want of privacy.

“Can I come inside?” He’s heaving, sweat running down his temple and chest. “Please? Please let me come inside your pretty pussy.” Jeongguk was whining at that point, dragging every bit of his control to not blow his load just yet.

You nodded, eyes closed, muttered yes over and over again, and with your permission, Jeongguk came inside you like stated. He groaned against your neck, forehead crushing the pillow by your head, his sweet moans eliciting goosebumps to rise on your skin. He gave you a couple of slow thrusts and then pulled out, kneeling on the mattress between your legs to stare at his cum seeping down your cunt. He grinned, stroking the tip along your folds in satisfaction, pushing two fingers in to keep his load in it, and when he was done, he crawled to your side, gently hauling you to his chest.

You ran your palm on his opposite shoulder and squeezed it while your cheek rested on its twin. “I’m tired.”

“You can take a nap,” he whispered, planting kisses on your forehead and hair, anywhere his lips could touch.

“I feel icky down there.”

He laughed and you pushed yourself up to glare at him playfully. Jeongguk remained grinning; he cupped your face and kissed you on the lips again. Soon you were on your back like earlier and he was hovering over you, the both of you making out. “Angel,” he mumbled, the endearment he loved using the most because of his reasoning that you were one of those heavenly creatures yourself, rang in your head in a more loving way, and you clung yourself against him closer, “you’ll marry me if I asked, right?”

You released his lips, pushing his face away, your thoughts returning to earth at his out of the blue inquiry. “What?”

“Marry me,” he said with more conviction, his eyes staring through yours. “I’ll make you the happiest woman alive.”

You chuckled. “I already am.”

“Then make me the happiest man alive by saying yes.”

“Guk—”

“I love you. You love me. We’ve been loving each other since forever. Why don’t we officiate it?”

“Is this your ‘I just got laid and I feel high’ brain speaking?”

“____…” he called you by your name, a rather rare occurrence if it’s just the two of you than most people would think; you understood then that he was really being serious, “I want to marry you.”

You gazed at him, your hand pushing his hair back away from his face. You appeared amazed, like you were waiting for the punch line of his joke or for him to generally just take his words back—but it never came, Jeongguk just remained staring at you, waiting for you to answer, and with a shaky exhale after realizing he was for real, you nodded. “Okay. Propose to me then.”

He kissed you; he placed his lips close to your ear; he murmured and confessed his love to you all over again. You smiled all throughout, your heartbeat beating fast and your eyes welling up as you listened to him recount dozens of memories with you, memories that you weren’t even aware he remembered up until that moment. As his finale, he asked you again if you would do the honor of marrying him, to make him the happiest man alive, though barely finishing his sentence, he abruptly propelled himself up from his position and rummaged for something in the bedside table at your left, and when he let you see what he stole from the drawer’s contents, it was a red box.

“Have you always had that right there?” you exclaimed, amused.

“No, just last night. I was beating myself up for not being able to think of a creative way of proposing soon and I might have shoved this ring too hard inside the drawer.”

You chuckled. “You’re unbelievable, Guk. You’re naked and you’re proposing and now you’re telling me you’ve endangered my supposed engagement ring?”

He ignored your teasing, acknowledging it only with a grin. “Will you marry me?” he finished his propal and opened the box; as expected of Jeongguk’s superior taste, the diamond ring that was placed in the center was so gorgeous you widened your eyes in astonishment.

You stared at the ring longer and looked up at him; you tipped your head to the side for effect and gestured to him to come closer. He did with a roll of his eyes, setting his head near yours and you hooked your arm around his neck, pulling him lower before whispering too in his ear. “Yes.”

What happened next was consisted of childlike giggling, Jeongguk pushing the ring on your ring finger, Jeongguk tackling you in an embrace, the both of you telling each other “I love you so much” until the phrase wore out, and then the inevitable love making for the second time that evening that also came to be more heartfelt than the last one—one that Jeongguk automatically added to his long list of unforgettable memories with you, his soon-to-be wife.

━ CHAPTER IV.

You didn’t want anything too flashy, that’s what you made clear. You wanted the wedding ceremony to only be attended by close friends and family; you wanted it to be intimate and personal as a wedding you thought should be. And although Jeongguk agreed and understood your point when you told him that, he expressed early on too that it was not going to be easy to make it happen for the sole reason that the person you were marrying was the grandson of the great Don Jungsoo—meaning that flashy and well-publicized would be the adjectives that would describe your wedding with him and not intimate and personal.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized sincerely right across from you on the table; the two of you were having lunch in some fancy restaurant near your law firm, the topic of wedding plans arising while you ate. “I wish I could say that I can just go ahead and tell Grandpop that I’d like to keep our wedding private, but you know how he is. You know how this family is.”

For the last few weeks, the Don’s health has been better. There were still risks, of course; he wasn’t magically cured from all illnesses just because he woke up and recovered. He was still an old man after all, and ever since the incident happened to him, his speech has notably become incomprehensible at times; a part of his face also slightly drooped, though you wouldn’t really notice it unless you’ve been staring at the Godfather your whole life and was sensitive to changes like that. As for his body though, he became thinner and in every step he took, looked like he grew heavier too. However, in regards to Don Jungsoo’s wisdom and ability to share intelligent thoughts, it was still gratefully there, just shared in a fashion that was a bit slower than before and perhaps harder to understand.

“Yeah, I get it,” you said. “What if we just elope and get married at some place like Vegas instead?” You were clearly joking. You showed it in the small upward curve of the other end of your lips, but you knew that Jeongguk sensed that there was still some genuinity hidden behind your light guise. “I’m kidding,” you added for a quick measure.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. There’s no reason for you to do so.”

“It’s just that I think I’m depriving you of spending our wedding day the way you want it. Haven’t you dreamed about something like this when you were young?”

“I did. I forgot about it eventually too. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’ll be a big deal to me if my beautiful bride won’t be happy on our special day.”

“Keep up the flattery and I’ll assure you that your beautiful bride will be happy.” You chuckled.

“Okay, how about this—” Jeongguk reached out and grasped your hand— “you do everything you want for the wedding and I won’t object. You can pick the theme, the food, the cake—everything. The only thing I’ll be having control over is the extra guesses for the ceremony and reception.”

“Guk, come on, I won’t deprive you like that. This is your wedding too.”

“I just want it to be memorable and have it the way you want, angel.”

“As long as you’re the one I’m saying I do too—it’ll be memorable and be exactly like I dreamed of. Don’t worry.”

Jeongguk grinned. “You mean that?”

“Would I have said yes if I didn’t?”

He chuckled and brought your knuckles to his lips, smooching it loudly in a playful yet sweet way.

Two months after that, you had your engagement party at the villa. Your home was big enough to accomodate people and it was a good thing that at least in that event, you had only spent it with your close loved ones and not anyone who wanted to suck up to your groom and steal him throughout the whole event, perhaps drowning him in unnecessary praises and ego boosts to get a good word from Jeongguk to Don Jungsoo. It was Jeongguk’s promise that he would ask the Don to keep the engagement party as exclusive as what you wanted, and indeed it is what happened.

There were people from your law firm, friends from college and from law school, and as for Jeongguk’s peers, he invited only a small number of people he knew; he told you they were mostly family friends, some college friends too, and close relatives. Your father, Inhwan, couldn’t help but invite his own set of guests, mostly people he knew through the Don. Of course, that only meant that the Don and his wife were also present in the event, along with Jeongguk’s parents, Hanseo and Yeonjin, and Seokjin with his wife as well.

A lot of people gawked and praised your diamond engagement ring, gushing how it looked dashing on your beautiful hand and how Jeongguk must have really gone all the way to buy it for you. In the moments your fiancé heard such admiration, he, who was standing beside you all day, smiled and squeezed your waist, glancing at you before declaring that it’s because you only deserve the best every single time. Ladies shared meaningful looks of envy with each other and teased you for being so lucky; gentlemen whistled in hilarity and gave Jeongguk playful pushes. Anybody with two eyes saw how you both shared great love and respect for one another, that it was always either admirable or gut-wrenching (in a good way).

“Are you ready to be part of the family?” Seokjin suddenly popped beside you and handed you a champagne flute. Jeongguk just left to go to the bathroom and unbeknownst to you, had asked Seokjin to take his place for a while until he came back.

You thanked him. “Is that question some kind of test?”

“Yep. If you say the wrong answer, I get to claim that fancy ring as my prize.” He nodded at your hand where the ring glimmered in the hanging lights. “I think I can support my family with that for over a couple of years.”

You snickered at his sarcasm.

While you were growing up, you have always admittedly been closer to Seokjin than you were with Jeongguk. Before your fiancé officially entered your life and claimed what would soon be his permanent place, it was Seokjin who you frequently saw and hung around with. The two of you had a similar sense of humor that you found clear connection in; he was and acted like an older brother you never had—in Jeongguk’s case, he already was an adoptive brother of the young man for since the death of Seokjin’s parents when he was in high school, Hanseo, who was his godfather, took him in the family. Inhwan was there to fend for him too, hence why you two became close, however, there was a period in your friendship wherein it faded out a little when he went to the States to pursue his baccalaureate and Juris Doctor degree, a path that you too was supposed to take as an aspiring lawyer yourself but with your father having no one close to real family if you did, you opted to stay.

“Is it odd that I’m a little nervous about it?” you asked him after a few seconds of silence. “Like, me and Guk have been together for so long, and I know his family likes me, but why do I still feel like they might change their mind when we get married?”

“As in Yeonjin becomes an evil mother-in-law?” He smirked and you gave him a look at the question. “Your worries are pointless, really. You know they already adore you. Hell, even the Don loves you and that’s an achievement of its own. You don’t have anything to be troubled about, ____.”

“The Don loves everyone.” You sipped on your flute.

“He loves everyone who his family loves,” he corrected. “To others he’s just kind and generous.”

You scrunched your forehead together and stared then at the Don who sat on a table far from yours. He was talking to Hanseo and Inhwan, a rather somber expression on his face; his mouth moved in a slow and steady bearing. You’ve thanked him earlier for going still despite his obvious declining health. He was still able to do things on his own and appear like he has always been, but being one to know what’s really going on behind the glamour of Don Jungsoo, you were aware that his first case of having a stroke took its toll on him; a fact that you noticed the Jeon Family has been trying to conceal.

“Seokjin, can you be honest with me?” you suddenly began.

He glanced at you. “About what?”

“The reason why your family insists on having the wedding as soon as possible.” You turned to him. “It’s because of Don Jungsoo’s condition, isn’t it?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Just an observation.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

Seokjin raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think questions like that ought to be asked to Jeongguk instead?”

“I already did.”

“And what did he tell you?”

“He said that he wants his grandfather to be present and healthy on the special day, that’s why we should get married as soon as possible.”

“Then that’s the reason.”

“That’s a reason,” you said. “I have a feeling there’s more.”

Seokjin stared at you and brought the rim of his champagne on his lips. “You’re a smart girl, princess,” he replied. “And because of that, I’m sure you’ll figure it out on your own.”

You dared to snort in amusement. You knew that Seokjin was another one who didn’t budge, but it was still worth the shot.

You wanted to be let in with whatever has been happening since the Don’s mishap as you didn’t think that the way they reacted was how a normal family would when the head of your clan just suffered from a stroke. They were still sympathetic, of course, overly concerned about the health of the Don, however you had felt the tension that rose within the Jeon Family in the days that Don Jungsoo remained lying unconscious on his hospital bed. You saw how troubled Jeongguk was, even saw your father look visibly stressed, though what you had found most peculiar were the way outsiders were reacting to the news of the Don falling ill. They were taking every opportunity to bring down his name and his family—referring to him with titles such as ‘mob boss’ and ‘king of the underworld’ that it was impossible for you not to be curious.

“What did I miss?” Jeongguk returned to your place with raised eyebrows. “What’s with the serious faces?”

“I was welcoming ____ to the family,” Seokjin told him.

You decided to play along. His disregard of the last conversation probably meant he wasn’t keen on talking about it again. “More like threatening me. He wants to steal my ring.” You laughed at the same time Seokjin did when he heard you.

“I’m going to see this more often, aren’t I?” Jeongguk’s arm snaked around your waist while his eyes moved back and forth between you two. “The both of you just constantly ganging up on me with inside jokes or whatever?”

“Maybe. That’s what makes ____ the best sister-in-law, though.”

“The only sister-in-law actually.” You snickered. Seokjin clinked his glass with yours.

After the engagement party took place, came the rapid planning for the wedding. Don Jungsoo was ever so kind to pledge that all expenses for the ceremony and the reception were to be paid by him, an offer that you wanted to reject for even though you appreciated his kindness with all of your heart, you didn’t want to burden him and take advantage of it in that kind of extent. Jeongguk convinced you not to do so and just go along with it though; he said that The Don gained happiness by doing favors like that to his loved ones, especially to his favorite grandson, as he proudly claimed. Jeongguk insisted that it would bring great satisfaction to his Grandpop to know that he made a huge contribution to an important event of both of your lives.

So, you agreed, and in five months’ time, the wedding ceremony commenced and with just a blink of an eye, you found yourself being a true married woman to Jeon Jeongguk. You vowed to love him endlessly and to always be by his side in a cathedral that fit hundreds of people, people who you either knew well or have never met in your whole life. But you found yourself not caring as much with the amount of individuals present like you initially did. All you cared about was how handsome Jeongguk looked in his midnight blue tuxedo and his hair styled in a fashion that had one side slicked back and the other had some strands falling on his forehead, his big and boyish grin that he displayed right after when he shed some tears as he saw you walk down the aisle, his promises of devotion to you from that point forward, and especially the strength and earnestness of his kiss when the priest finally said “You may now kiss the bride”.

“I love you,” he whispered to you as he leaned back, his face only centimeters away, those words the only thing processing in your head while the crowd clapped and cheered

You grinned, kissing him more. “And I love you.”

The reception was held in one of the Don’s owned properties, a spacious mansion that no doubt was able to cater the hundreds of guests present. It was decorated in line with yours and Jeongguk’s chosen theme for the reception which was rustic, fitting the also rustic architecture of the venue. There were dark wooden chairs and tables covered only partially with white linen tablecloth; hand-tied bouquets and florals with greenery on baskets at some parts of the walls; antique ornaments and lights hanging on the ceiling; and the ambiance of the place was simply just the way you both wanted, delighting you two when you first arrived.

You slightly grew self-conscious with the amount of guests again when the host introduced you and Jeongguk as a married couple. You scanned the audience and saw a lot of familiar faces—and they were familiar not because you knew them personally, but because you have seen them on TV or in a newspaper once. You were aware that the Don had a lot of friends from the entertainment industry too, but you didn’t think that some of them would actually be close enough with the Don to be invited to the wedding.

“Just say the magic word and I’ll bail us out,” Jeongguk said against your ear while a distant relative of his sang in the center of the hall. The fun games were over and the program was going towards its end, the only thing left were the warm messages and the performances that your loved ones prepared for the special day.

You turned to him and chuckled. “First of all, I have no idea of this magic word that you’re talking about. Second of all—that eager to get me alone, huh?”

His eyes glinted.

You two made a pack since your engagement party that you would not partake in any sexual acts (the most would only be making out or groping if the libido was too tough to handle) before the wedding to make the night of the honeymoon more awaited for. It wasn’t even that long, to be frank (okay, maybe it was—five months was a considerable long time) but it was the longest in a while that you haven’t had sex since you started doing such act with him. Jeongguk was okay with the idea and agreed that it’ll make the wedding night more worth the wait.

However, earlier at the room where the both of you changed into different clothes for the reception, Jeongguk had kissed you and you kissed him back with the same flaring passion he was showing, prompting an unplanned heavy make out session that also brought a palm of his on one of your ass cheeks, your husband squeezing it and groaning, murmuring how he couldn’t wait until later to have you again. You jokingly slapped it away and told him to be more patient, which he groaned louder for and kissed you one last time before finishing on dressing up.

“You’ve been driving me crazy all day,” he continued, still whispering close to your ear. “You looked so gorgeous in the wedding dress—and now look at you right now, angel. You’re really giving me the impression that you truly are a gift from the heavens.”

You smiled. You were wearing a more daring attire for the reception, a lace maxi dress with a straight neckline and thin shoulder straps; it had a slit on the right side just above your knee as well, but it wasn’t that aspect of the dress that made it daring, it was the fact it completely exposed your back from behind and only had strings tied across its ends to make it appear not completely backless.

“You can take it off for me later,” you told him with a smirk.

Jeongguk huffed at that. “Don’t plant the idea in my head or I’m going to have a boner all night.”

“Well, it’s only fair. Do you think I’m fine with your chest practically in my face?” you retorted, and in cue, flickered your gaze down to his chest where the polo he was wearing had three buttons opened, giving anyone the view of his impressive pecs.

He seemed pleased that you noticed it. “You’re more than welcome to take it off for me too.”

“I’ll rip it off you, sweetheart.” You chuckled and pecked the corner of his mouth. He hummed and placed a cheeky hand on your upper thigh at the action, and when your eyes followed where his hand was travelling, you automatically lowered it down to your knee. “Guk.”

“Okay, okay,” he frowned and faced his palm up, an invitation for you to intertwine it with his and you accepted the offer, “I’ll behave.”

For the rest of the night, after the special performances by good friends and family, the reception felt like a campaign and Jeongguk was the candidate as it neared its conclusion. Acquaintances and business partners talked and congratulated him—they congratulated you too, of course, but you sensed that it was only mere politeness that made them do so. Their real target was still the Don’s grandson and having the chance to butter him up for the sake of getting on the good side of Don Jungsoo. In fact, you think that Don Jungsoo was perhaps more acknowledged than you throughout the evening as you recalled the amount of men that went to his table and shook his hand in eagerness for the duration of the function.

“Really, Dad? You’re going to cry at this last moment?” you teased your father; his expression was solemn and he had his lips pursed as you bid him your farewells to go to the airport where you’ll be flying to Jeju Island for the honeymoon. He didn’t cry when he handed you to Jeongguk at the cathedral, or shed a tear when you shared your father-daughter dance at the reception, but now it looked like his tear ducts were finally surrendering in defeat.

“I’m not crying,” he denied, though his hug was tight when you embraced him. “You take care of yourself, okay?”

“I’m still coming back after two weeks, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, kiddo.” He pulled back and kissed you on the forehead, holding you out within arm’s length to gaze at you fondly. “I guess I’m a little overreacting. Imagine if your mom was still here.”

“No doubt there’ll be waterfalls coming from her eyes.” You joked. One of the fond memories you had of your late mother was how easy it was to trigger a tear from her.

“Inhwan,” Jeongguk just finished instructing some men to help with the luggages so he decided to join the two of you, “or is it Dad too from now on?”

Inhwan laughed lightly as the young man stood beside you. “Sure, why not? You’re officially my son-in-law now anyways.”

Jeongguk gestured for a hug and Inhwan complied. He patted Inhwan’s back and said with a soft voice, “Don’t worry, I’ll do everything I can to always make ____ happy. She’s safe with me.”

“I know you will.” Inhwan grasped his shoulder when they both leaned away. “That’s why I like you so much, Guk. You’re a good one, you take care of my kid well.” They shared a smile.

While they continued to talk, you approached Hanseo, Yeonjin, and Jeongguk’s grandmother. You told them your thanks again for being part of the momentous occasion and for helping in making it happen in the way you wanted. Hanseo told you that it was no problem; Yeonjin kissed your cheek and said she was happy to finally have a daughter herself; Jeongguk’s grandmother embraced you and gave your cheek a kiss as well, saying there that she should begin passing on famous recipes in the Jeon household to you. Next, you moved to the Don who was just about to go ahead and sit at the backseat of his designated vehicle, but upon seeing you walk to him, stopped and waited until you two were finally standing face to face.

“Thank you so much for everything today, Don Jungsoo,” you said, bowing to show your respect. Even though the Don has been nothing but kind and goodhearted to you in the past years you have known him, you were still cautious whenever you interacted with the old man for the reason that is you were still intimidated by his presence and the powerful aura he gave off. “I appreciate it so much, truly, I don’t think I can ever thank you enough for being so generous.”

“You’re part of the family now, ____,” he clasped a hand of yours between his and tapped it gently, “so please feel comfortable to call me as Jeongguk would. It is I who should be thanking you for being there for my grandson no matter how difficult that boy can be. Everything I’ve done is nothing compared to the joy you’ve given him amidst the hardships he goes through everyday.”

“Oh, it comes both ways, I assure you. Jeongguk was clearly raised well for him to be this wonderful.”

“I hope that stays for a long time then—you and Jeongguk respecting and loving each other. One thing I’m sure in this withered life of mine is that loyalty plays a huge part in how events play out. The best investment you can ever have in your life is a good partner to spend it with.” He gave your hand another pat and then he let go. “Tell me if Jeongguk ever gives you a hard time and I’ll teach him a lesson.”

“That’s impossible, Grandpop.” Jeongguk walked from behind you and hugged his grandfather goodbye. “I don’t think you've noticed but ____ clearly has the pants in this relationship.”

They laughed, the Don’s laughter coming out as a wheeze though the smile on his face was unmistakably and genuinely amused. He said his final farewells to you two and you told him yours, saying too that you hope for him to keep on getting better that the Don appreciably smiled at and said his thanks. You watched as the vehicle he was in drove away, two more following closely behind as another led the path, placing the car where Don Jungsoo was in the middle.

“Ready to go?” Jeongguk asked when it was just you two there.

You smiled at him. “Yeah.”

You arrived at Jeju Island at about 10:56 PM that night. Out of all the places you could have gone to, you and him decided that Jeju Island was the one to go for the honeymoon because it was the same place where you celebrated your first anniversary in the past. Besides, you two didn’t want to go to another beautiful country and exhaust yourselves more with the travel time and all the arrangements you’d have to do for the location you’d be staying in for two weeks. The hotel you’ll be residing in was sponsored yet again by Jeongguk’s family.

“I hope you’re not too tired.” Jeongguk smirked at you while you both walked out of the elevator to head to the suite you were going to settle in for the mini vacation.

You glanced at him and smirked back; your hands were intertwined and you were swaying it back and forth childishly. “Me? Of course not.”

“You sure?”

“One hundred percent. How about you?”

“You really want to ask that?” He was looking at you differently now, eyes shaping themselves in a manner that you were all too familiar with.

“Well, I’m asking you because I’m just hoping you won’t sleep on me. I know we haven’t gotten proper action in months for you to miss this opportunity but let’s be real—when you’re tired, you’re tired.”

“I swear, I’m not.” He chuckled and paused with you as you arrived by the door. “I’m too pumped for me to be and indeed miss this opportunity.” He brought out the keycard, pressed it against the intended spot, and you heard the lock disengage with an audible click

At the sound of that, you began to get jitters. It was another one of those funny things you’ve been experiencing with anything related to Jeongguk since the engagement—that even though you’ve been with him practically half of your life and was one of the people you could be your absolute self and be assured you won’t be judge—you were starting to feel awkward and shy at times, such as this moment right here where even though Jeongguk had already kept the keycard back in his pocket and had opened the door to welcome yourselves to the room, you were frozen on where you stood, your feet seemingly stuck.

He appeared to have sensed your sudden showcase of reluctance for he abruptly faced you, his hands going on your bare arms as he smiled. “Let’s go?” He tilted his head towards the suite. Your luggages were already there, placed kindly by the hotel staff while you and Jeongguk were finalizing some papers at the lobby.

You shook every feeling of wariness away and nodded. At the gesture, Jeongguk’s smile widened into a grin and as fast as he could, he scooped you in his arms in what popular media would call ‘bridal style’, emitting a surprised yelp from you though you prevented your mouth from producing more noise by covering it with a hand while he walked further inside the room, kicking the door close behind him.

“Guk!” You laughed and he did too, face getting closer to yours until he captured your lips successfully.

You reciprocated as soon as you felt him kiss you, your arms being thrown around his neck so you could support yourself better. Jeongguk laid you down on the bed and you realized that rose petals were on them when your back hit the mattress, your eyes opening and spinning down to check if what you were thinking of were true and true enough, there they were. You had to make a mental note to thank the owner of the hotel for being accommodating enough to do the effort of creating a romantic atmosphere; they might do this as a standard for newly-weds, but the owner was a good friend of Hanseo’s so you wanted to express your gratitude personally.

“You said I could take this off, right?” Jeongguk ran his hands on the sides of your dress and you nodded.

He moved his mouth to your throat and kicked off with what he’s been yearning to do for those whole five months of not getting the proper taste of you. Despite the longing and the anticipation though, Jeongguk didn’t act rashly; instead he did anything rather excruciatingly slow—the way his lips moved against yours, how he untied the straps that enabled your dress to stay together, the manner in which he removed it from your body, planting wet kisses on your skin where the fabric of your dress previously glided on… fucking hell, you didn’t know whether you were trembling already because of his obvious unhurriedness or because you knew where his ministrations were going to take you.

“So pretty,” he breathed out raggedly as he squeezed your breasts. You were completely undressed before him as he intended, the only thing left was your white laced underwear that you wore to match the dress. “I think I’m going to nut by this sight of you alone, angel.”

You dared to chuckle. “Is it my turn to rip your polo off now?” Your hands were fondling the collar of his top.

“Be my guest.” He smirked.

Unlike him, you were swift in unbuttoning his long-sleeved polo, hastily pushing it past his shoulders to slide it off his arms. In the approximately ten seconds you did that, you kept on kissing him, sucking lightly on his lower lip, Jeongguk helping you in discarding the material away from his body as well. When that was done, he surged forward, laying over you on the bed, and you quickly carried on with removing his pants, briskly unbuckling his belt and unzipping it to grant you the freedom to tug it down his thighs.

As he pressed his body against you, you ultimately felt his hardness on your stomach, a sensation that you groan at, your insides tingling. You instinctively reached down and grabbed his cock over his boxers to feel it more, massaging and groping it, just the way he liked and what Jeongguk responded to by nibbling your jaw harshly. “Fuck,” he moaned before uttering a warning, “not too fast, not too fast.”

“Want you,” you pant, ignoring his protest, your palm not slowing down, “right now, Guk. Want your dick in my mouth.”

“Yeah?” He grunted, disposing of his boxers and flinging it off his feet. “Does my pretty wife want her mouth fucked first?”

You grinned at the title. It made your pussy clench into nothing. “Yes.”

He gnawed at your jaw before leaning back. “Scoot higher for me.” He instructed and you followed, backing up on the bed until you stopped at the pillows by the head. There were still petals all over the sheets that you had to flick them away with the back of your hand.

Jeongguk trailed his kisses from your knees up to your inner thighs, hands sensually caressing your sides then your breasts. He always had a thing for your tits; he received pleasure from just seeing them cupped by his hands, loved it when it jiggled when he fucked you hard—the image of that alone popping in his head making him harder. Without delay then, he proceeded on going forth with your request, Jeongguk kneeling over you, both of his knees on either side of your shoulders, the tip of cock on your chin.

There was precum leaking on it, a sight that you salivated at. Jeongguk gave his shaft a few strokes, teasing you by gliding the end of his dick on your lips. “Shit,” he groaned when he indulged himself in finally pushing his cock inside your mouth, “that feels so good already, angel. Just like that—I missed that mouth.”

His thrusts were relaxed. He didn’t really want to rush. He gently ran his fingers through your hair and pushed all loose strands away, wanting to get a clear view of your face. You had your eyes closed and you were bobbing your head voluntarily to meet each thrust of his hips. At one instance, you let the tip reach the farthest it could go and you gagged a little, pulling back with a heavy gasp. Jeongguk stretched behind him and touched your clothed heat, feeling how soaked it already was and how just a light press brought a lengthy moan out of you.

“Fuck, fuck.” He cursed as he fucked your mouth faster, your hand palming his balls, though upon the last minute, once his cock was starting to pulsate and his balls were tightening, he pulled back.

You exhaled, some saliva connecting your lips and his cock, and Jeongguk kissed your mouth sloppily before he slithered down to stop right in front of your cunt, working faster now as he pulled your underwear off and dived right in between your legs, sucking and slurping on your clit with a profound determination. His groans and grunts added to the pleasure—you loved hearing him get so into the act of whatever it was that he was doing to drive you crazy—craved it at times even, his sweet sounds even staying in your mind after you were both done. Jeongguk spreaded your lips and spat right on them and went back in, growling.

“So sweet. I’ve been dreaming about tasting this pussy again,” he said, two fingers rubbing it as his tongue licked your clit. “I could drink you up all night.” He inserted the fingers right in your hole and you mewled, arching your back slightly at the movement, moreso as he rapidly pushed it in and out, all the while still sucking your bundle of nerves. It felt like it was going on forever; everything was so good and your toes were curling already in anticipation. He switched between fucking you with his digits and his tongue, your walls welcoming the muscle every time and giving him something to taste.

“Ah—holy shit, I’m close—” you grabbed a fistful of his hair— “fucking hell—I’m going to come.”

The usual thing that Jeongguk would have done was keep up with his speed until you were coming on his face, your juices right on his mouth, his chin, just everywhere—but he stopped, for he had already thought that if there was anywhere you would be coming on for the first time in the last five months, it was going to be on his cock. And so he pulled away and hauled you closer by dragging you towards him roughly with your thighs. You gasped at the sudden showcase of strength, Jeongguk dropping back over you to devour your breasts.

His shaft was pressing against your heat, so near that it was causing you to be more impatient. Jeongguk nibbled a bud and squeezed the other, noisy and so fucking erotic it was sending you off to another space. You couldn’t take it anymore; you tried rubbing your folds together on his dick.

“Fuck me, Guk—please, please,” you begged and cried. “I can’t—I wanna feel you so bad now.”

He stopped paying attention to your tits and looked up, his hair messy and his eyes completely dazed. He brought himself higher so your faces were in level and kissed you; you still tasted what’s left of you in his mouth. “You want my cock inside your pussy?” he asked.

You nodded hastily. “Want it, please.”

“Really? How much?”

“So fucking much.”

“Is that the best thing you could do?” His fingers wrapped itself on your jaw and he tightened his grip. It didn’t hurt, just made you steady—made you pay more attention to reality; he knew you liked it. “Beg harder for it, angel,” he said, looking straight in your eyes now.

You whined. “Please, please, please—I want it.” You marveled his chest, your palms appreciably massaging his pecs. “I want you to fuck me hard—want you to come in my pussy, fill me up so fucking good.”

“Yeah?” His fingers moved to your throat as he leaned back. “You want me to knock you up on our wedding night?”

“Jeongguk—please—fuck me, please.”

He dared to chuckle at the desperation. “Well, who am I to deprive my wife of what she wants, hmm?” He began to align his dick on your entrance. It’s been too long since his manhood was directly on your heat that even he shudders at the contact. “My beautiful wife deserves to be fucked good, doesn’t she?” It was obvious how the fondness of calling you his wife was already planted within him in the not even 24 hours of being married.

You were definitely not thinking straight anymore as he pushed it in. “Yes, yes, yes—” you moaned the words out in a chant, the stretch his cock does to your cunt compelling a louder cry from you in pleasure.

Jeongguk too was desperate. He fucked you fast and hard straight off which your slickness allowed him to do so without difficulty. His fingers that remained on your throat tightened in just the right amount, choking you in just the right way as he kept himself at a distance while he hovered over you. Jeongguk has always been a mix of aggressive and loving when it came to bed; it was either he was too aggressive or excessively loving, both that you didn’t have any complaints about. At the end of each ‘session’, he always satisfied you nonetheless and made you feel absolutely amazing—you never had one encounter with him that had you dismayed or upset after.

You were really getting close the more he rocked against you. You weren’t one too hard to be pleased—to trigger an orgasm from—especially if it’s Jeongguk we were talking about here, and given the five-month long of abstinence from sex to make this first night of the honeymoon extra worthwhile, you were too sensitive to hold back and control yourself from coming already. Jeongguk of course sensed that you were close, he groaned and growled whenever you clenched around his cock, your warm walls bringing him to the edge alongside you.

“You gonna come, angel?” He let go of your throat and was spreading your legs further, pushing and bending you forward. “Gonna come for me?”

You nodded, unable to speak, and he gave you one last hard kiss before he paused in working his hips to start lifting you up, erupting another whine from you for you were already there at the very last second when he did so, though you tried to make yourself as light as possible as he sat and made you sit on him, his cock not leaving your cunt. You got the hint and attached your mouth back on his, riding him in a fast pace instantly, continuing on where the both of you left on.

Jeongguk gave your ass a hard slap and gripped them firmly, bouncing you up and down on his dick faster. “That’s it, that’s it,” he grumbled, sliding his hand down to strum your clit, “that’s right, fucking use my cock to get off. That cock is fucking yours to use.”

You threw your head back and he used that as an opportunity to lavish on your chest, sucking and licking, and with the overwhelming sensation of his dick, the friction, the stimulation on your clit—in an abrupt snap, you came hard without warning, practically screaming his name as you did so, thighs convulsing uncontrollably, Jeongguk moaning too, cupping your face and dragging it close to his so he could kiss you and add to the pleasure you were experiencing.

You rode him until your thighs were aching and until he was on the verge of coming himself. Jeongguk urged you off him and turned you on your back when he was close, the side of your face falling on the mattress. He held your hips up, pushed your upper half down further, and fucked you senseless immediately, not wasting time, overstimulating your sensitive pussy but it was too good to ask him to stop.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good—so tight, don’t know how I fucking lived without the feel of this for fucking months—” he moaned and gave your ass another hard slap, the sound of it ringing in your ears and making you clench. Jeongguk cursed again at the action and bent down to press his chest against you, sloppy kisses given on your shoulders and neck. “I’m gonna come. Gonna come inside you.”

“Please,” you choked out.

“You too. Come with me, angel.”

“Guk,” you whined, your tone protesting.

He was ramming onto your harder, his hips going haywire, and his hand went under your bodies to caress your breast, fingers pinching the bud. “Please—fucking, holy shit—I know you can. I know you can come for me. You’re my good girl. My sweet—” he shoved his cock deeper, pulling back from the tip and then pushing it all in— “sweet, fucking, beautiful girl.”

It is when he did that previous movement for a couple of times and whispered more praises in your ear that you found yourself experiencing another orgasm the same time that finally he too came with a very audible groan, his thick seed spilling inside you and filling you up. He squeezed your ass harshly, nails digging on them a bit, and then he pulled out after a few more thrusts, eating your pussy from behind right after as if everything wasn’t enough. He groaned at the taste of his cum mixed with your juices; he felt blood rushing to his dick again at the arousing taste of it and the image of your swollen cunt a second ago with his seed pouring down.

“Guk,” you whined, “too… too much,” you said when it was really starting to hurt.

Jeongguk leaned his face away and calmed down, granting soft kisses on your buttcheeks, his kisses travelling upwards until he had you laying on your back again, his mouth back on yours. “I missed fucking you,” he declared explicitly and you had the nerve to laugh, the pit of your stomach tingling in agreeableness.

“Told you it was worth it,” you bothered to joke and Jeongguk chuckled, his breathing ragged but he was composing himself, raising his head and looking at you.

“You’re worth it,” he said.

Your heartbeat escalated—as if it hadn’t been beating fast enough with the events that just transpired—and you placed your palm on his cheeks, stroking it affectionately. “You too. I love you so much, Jeongguk.”

He nuzzled his nose against yours, smiling, endearing bunny-like features showcasing themselves; he appeared like a different person from the man who was just drilling your cunt a while ago. “I love you much more, my angel.”

“No, no, that’s unfair. No one gets to love the other more.”

“It’s true though,” he argued. “But I didn’t mean that as a way to compete with what you feel—I’m just saying I love you much more. Much more than I can always say.”

You squinted your eyes at him and laughed. “Okay, Dr. Cheesy.”

“You laughing at me?” He playfully grazed his teeth against your earlobe and you squealed, Jeongguk chuckling.

You smiled so wide that your cheeks hurt; you kissed him repeatedly, wounding your arms around his shoulders, sighing in peace and thanking the universe for setting you up with a man as extraordinary as your husband. He returned the gesture and the both of you continued to consummate your marriage again and again throughout the night, the passion and the intimacy undeniable as what should be expected with newly-weds who were deeply in love with each other.

That prevailed in the next few days to come. You and Jeongguk were going at it like—well, as you liked to describe him as—as bunnies. You two were practically never seen outside the hotel suite except for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, sometimes even skipping going to the buffet area and opted for room service instead. Though when all the oxytocin died down (there were still left, but controlled) and you weren’t taking the other’s clothes off in every chance that either of you could get, you went to the beaches and famous travel spots around the island.

There you had the opportunity to do all the things your busy lives couldn’t let you two do. Both of you went hiking to famous mountains, visited majestic waterfalls and caves—you and Jeongguk even went horseback riding where he showed you some serious skills that you don’t think you’ve had the chance to see before, and generally just headed to all the tourist attractions your itinerary contained. All throughout, you forgot about your life waiting in Seoul for a while, this honeymoon with Jeongguk proving to be an event that you most definitely wanted to recreate in the future if said life allowed you to.

“I don’t know if I’m aroused or disturbed,” Jeongguk whispered to you while you two stared at a sculpture of a man and a woman clearly having sex; the woman was doing some kind of handstand and the man was behind her, supporting her and quite frankly, had his penis inside her too. One of your destinations was the famous Loveland in Jeju Island, where apparently there was really a lot of R rated art involved all over the park just like what you’ve been briefed about.

You snickered. “Maybe we’ve been having sex too much that it’s not as exciting to see.” You tilted your head to the side to get a better look at it. The details amazed you.

“Absolutely not,” he disagreed with a scrunched forehead, gazing at the sculpture too in interest still. “Do you think we can do that position later?”

Your hand flew up to hit his chest at the sudden question, eyes widening. “Jeongguk!”

“What?” He was grinning already though. “Is it wrong for me to ask?”

“Can you not ask it at this second?” You laughed. Your face was already burning at just the thought of Jeongguk having you in that position.

“So, you’re down to do it then?”

“No,” you gave him a look, “and even if I was, I don’t think I can carry myself and be able to do what the lady is doing.”

He nodded as if he was in deep thought. Jeongguk was wearing a familiar button down polo that day, the same orangish yellow Fendi one you had teased him for when he first officially asked you out, and even in the five years that has passed, he still looked unbelievably delicious on it, his tattoos that have gained in number on full display and a new set of sunglasses hooked on the front of his top, tugging it lower than normal. “I mean, we can do it while on the bed, like without you doing the handstand.”

“You really want to try it, don’t you?”

“You mentioned us having sex and now you planted the idea, angel. It’s your fault.” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes and looped an arm around his. “Let’s get out of this place before you get any more ideas.”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a no, sweetheart.”

You still did it however—the revised version of course—that very night as well. You’ve concluded once more that there’s just no way you could ever resist Jeongguk the moment he begins working his charm. He knew exactly what to do to get what he wanted; you thought that it’s because he always got what he wanted too in the entirety of his existence that he was already a master in memorizing what people wanted to hear or see from him to make them do him the favor. At some point when you were just starting to get friendly with Jeongguk, you constantly teased him for being a spoiled grandson of the Don and he would retaliate playfully that you were a spoiled daughter too by your father. You had said that ‘okay, that makes us even then’, but you still thought that your level of being spoiled was no match to his.

Despite that, Jeongguk never appeared to be arrogant or entitled. He was raised well by his family who were the first to get a taste on how to slowly rise up to power by working diligently and then getting the eventual desired result. From what Jeongguk told you on the intimate nights you have shared before, his father introduced him to their business at a young age and taught him everything necessary to know, his knowledge increasing the same time his age did in due course. He studied overseas for college at the Don’s wishes, returned after he finished and got his degree, and met you officially a few months later when he entered your home with Inhwan. Since then and since you pursued a relationship with him, Jeongguk has never been anything but lovely. It caused you suspicion at first for you didn’t believe that a man your age could be that mature and that understanding, but Jeongguk was simply ‘built different’ that you later on went along with the fact that he was just truly extraordinary.

When the last four days of the honeymoon came in, business related calls were disturbing you and Jeongguk at random hours of the day. You had an associate you worked on a case with who was studying and running errands for you for the meantime, a minor real estate case that was going to have its first hearing in a month, and the topic he usually brought up when he continuously called or messaged you. Jeongguk, on the other hand, seemingly had more pressing issues with JSG; he was the President of the company after all.

You peeked out on the balcony where Jeongguk just answered a call. “Guk? The car we booked to that dining place just arrived. The driver’s already in the lobby.”

He glanced at you. His face was serious and he raised a hand up, a signal to ask you if you would wait. You nodded and pretended to let him mind his own business while you checked your purse if you’ve forgotten anything—you said pretended because even though you were doing all that, you stole subtle glances at his direction, his back facing you and the only view you had the opportunity to see through the glass door. However, his arm movements were still discernible and at the instance he suddenly brought a hand on top of his hair, distressed, head nodding vigorously, you were positive that he just received some kind of bad news.

You no longer hid how you were staring at him; you paused whatever it was that you were being busy with and waited until Jeongguk finished the call. As he did, he didn’t even bother putting his phone back in his pocket; he just raised the hand that was holding it to accompany the other one already on his hair before sitting down on the sun lounger with a motion that came out like he slipped. You didn’t think twice about marching out to talk to him.

“Hey,” you gently touched his back, “who was that? Anything wrong?”

Jeongguk looked up and your worry escalated when you got a glimpse of his tear-filled eyes. “He passed on, ____. Grandpop—he didn’t… he got another stroke and—Pop said he didn’t make it this time.”

“Oh my god—Guk, I’m so sorry.” You automatically engulfed him in an embrace and Jeongguk fully let himself cry in what felt like frustration, his face turning towards your neck where you felt his tears dampen your skin. You whispered words of comfort as he sobbed, rubbed his back and carressed the back of his head; Jeongguk showed you a newfound kind of vulnerability at the knowledge that his grandfather was no longer alive and made it apparent that you were going to be here for him and that everything was going to be okay.

You didn’t know the true impact of it—but the death of Don Jungsoo was definitely the last thing any member of the Jeon Family wanted, which meant unlike what you were murmuring, everything was not going to be okay.

━ CHAPTER V.

The trick with the wedding worked. Seokjin informed Jeongguk before he got in the car to the venue of the reception that there were for sure spies sent from the other prominent Seoul Families to oversee the ceremony. By that time, the associates would have already informed their Caporegimes and the Caporegimes would have already informed the underboss as well who would have relayed the message to their respective Dons. Jeongguk was glad to hear that, thankful that at least their efforts of arranging everything and marrying you quite early on than what both of you preferred didn't go to waste.

For the first week of the honeymoon, at early dawn when he woke up before you would, he’d shared a call with either Seokjin or his father. They included him in all business related transactions and heard his side to forward it with the Don when they discussed it with him. Don Jungsoo only approved or declined any plans they had or prepositions from other people they received, then Hanseo acted his demands out as the active underboss. Don Jungsoo was going to retire soon, the Godfather established it when he was restored to health, and wanted Hanseo and especially Jeongguk to be more concerned with the business now that he was a few steps away from officially handing over the business.

Though upon the Don’s sudden yet still foreseeable death, despite how they’ve been preparing for something as terrible as this to fall to the Jeon Family, Hanseo was still shaken to be deemed as the new Don of the clan and be the head of their syndicate. Even if he saw himself as adequate and intelligent enough for the position, Hanseo knew he wasn’t as great as the late Don Jungsoo to live up to his father’s shoes. Perhaps his son, Jeongguk, was more fit for it than he was ever going to be, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to bestow such responsibility unless Jeongguk was given no choice. For now, Hanseo had to do extremely good on his reign and prove to the members that he was deserving to be the Godfather.

Ultimately, Jeongguk took the death of his grandfather more badly than he thought. He was still rational and handled it the way Don Jungsoo would have wanted him to; however deep inside, there was a fire of hatred and anger burning inside of him that he only released in sessions at the gym where he boxed his frustration out, upset that Don Jungsoo’s passing had to happen when he was having the time of his life with you. He didn’t regret the honeymoon or wished that he had done anything differently in the last few weeks—it was just he didn’t understand why an unfortunate incident had to fall upon his Family when he thought things were beginning to go back to the way they were.

Jeongguk remembered how Don Jungsoo didn’t like the plan with the publicity stunt at the wedding when Hanseo informed him. He shook his head profusely, saying then that weddings are intimate ceremonies and should not be mixed with business; he said that he didn’t want his grandson to get married out of the blue just so they can show off his (then) improving health to the other Families.

“I was intending to marry ____ soon anyways, Grandpop,” Jeongguk reasoned. “Why not hit two birds with one stone?”

“You are?” Don Jungsoo mused. “You’re not saying that just to appease me?”

“It’s true,” Seokjin vouched for Jeongguk. “Guk’s been thinking about it even before we were planning this.”

The Don snorted and smiled, the first since a while. “Well, it’s about time. You need a woman like that in your life, Jeongguk. You don’t meet a lot of her kind these days.”

“I agree.” Jeongguk chuckled. “So, we’ll go forth with it, won’t we?”

The Don shrugged. “All I have to do is to not look sickly, don’t I?”

“Which I’m sure you’ll do fine, Pop,” Hanseo assured himself more than he did to Don Jungsoo. “Dr. Hwang said you’re improving. We’re going to plan the wedding and hold it as early as we can too.”

“Alright. Tell Inhwan not to spend a dime on his daughter’s wedding. I’m willing to pay for all the expenses.”

“That includes my share too, right?” Hanseo joked and the Don cracked another smile.

It did go on to be successful as they hoped. The Three Families that stood along them—the Lee Family, Yang Family, and Park Family—got the message that Don Jungsoo was well and managed to attend his grandson’s wedding in a great state. Operations continued to be quiet and the waging tension within the Mafia faltered as no one no longer questioned the health of Don Jungsoo, thus seeing the Jeon Family as credible once again. Of course, it wouldn’t have been too long as well before they all of the sudden hear the revelation that the same healthy man they were told about suffered a stroke while sleeping and no longer woke up.

“Let’s book the next flight back to Seoul,” you said after minutes of just holding Jeongguk in your arms. He was sobbing, his nose running and his head already thumping because of how hard he has been pouring his emotions out.

Jeongguk cried like a kid and he hated it whenever he did. It was not something he had control of though and he was just thankful that it was only you who had the chance to see him that way when he broke down after being called and notified by Hanseo. “Not yet,” Jeongguk replied, “I’ll, I’ll have to… I’ll have to call—”

“I’ll do it,” you finished for him, stroking his hair one last time and standing up to go back inside the room and get your phone.

He held your wrist; he looked a little disoriented to form his thoughts properly and his cheeks were still wet, his eyes glassy from sobbing. “No, ____, it’s best if—”

“I’m going to call my dad and he’ll be in charge of our flight back,” you cut him off again. “Or would you want me to call Seokjin instead?”

He stared at you, puzzled for a millisecond, but he was always under the impression that you already had an idea of what he and the Family truly did. You just didn’t confront him about it or made it too apparent that you knew something that wasn't intended to be known yet. Well, at least, not yet, you didn’t. “That would be better,” he affirmed your last statement. “But you should use my phone. This phone.”

You nodded and got the phone from his grasp before doing as said. Jeongguk was transparent to you early on that he used two phones; he used one for personal matters and the others for business affairs. Your number was on both devices.

Seokjin indeed handled yours and Jeongguk’s safe flight back. As you both arrived at the Jeon Residential Area—the place where the houses of the Don, Hanseo, Seokjin, and yours and Jeongguk’s were already built along with the other vacant ones intended for guests—there were a large number of men waiting for both of your arrival. Seokjin was there by the gate, a phone in his hand, talking to somebody else, though when he spotted the two of you getting out of the car, he rushed to end the call and walked towards Jeongguk, embracing the younger boy tightly with only one arm while he used the other to reach for you as well.

“I’m sorry the honeymoon was cut short,” Seokjin said.

“Jin, don’t be ridiculous, that shouldn’t be something to apologize for,” you answered.

“Grandma’s been crying for hours,” Seokjin said again, this time more to Jeongguk, “you two should go ahead and make your presence known.”

“You should go ahead, angel.” Jeongguk rubbed your back. “I’ll just talk to Jin for a bit.”

You nodded and walked to the front steps of the door. Once you entered and was out of earshot, Jeongguk turned back to his adoptive brother who had a melancholic expression. Seokjin’s eyes were a bit puffy and when he talked earlier, his voice was hoarse, meaning that like Jeongguk, he had been mourning over the death of the Don.

“Where’s Grandpop now?”

“At the mortuary. Your dad’s there with him and Inhwan and some members of his regime. They’ll be bringing him back in an hour or so or whatever how long it takes to get the old man ready. We’ll be holding the wake here in the house and they’re already preparing the space for it, some people are already cleaning it—the garden, that’s where it’ll be, yeah.” Seokjin appeared as disoriented as Jeongguk was in Jeju Island. “You have a cigarette, Guk?” he abruptly asked.

Jeongguk sighed at him. “No. I already quit, remember? I thought you did too.”

“Yeah, but I really need a smoke right now. All of this is making me crazy.” He sighed and glanced at some of the men who were nearby to where they were standing, one of them taking something from inside their jacket to reveal a cigarette box, Seokjin dashing to the guy and getting a stick, placing it between his lips and letting the soldier light it up for him. Returning next to Jeongguk again, he puffed out a smoke with a relieved breath. “Don’t tell my wife about this,” he told him.

Jeongguk grimaced. “I don’t need to. She’d smell it on you immediately. And seriously, Jin, you were doing well on not lighting a single cigarette for over a year.”

“Just one and I promise, I’ll stop,” Seokjin said and began speaking again, his previous sentence not taken seriously by himself. “I’m going to arrange a meeting with all of the Don’s important and political contacts after his funeral, one by one.” Seokjin got straight to the point. It was a time for grieving supposedly, but business doesn’t stop along with everything else when something terrible happens, and so Seokjin wanted to get it out the way as soon as Jeongguk arrived. “They’re going to be talking to Hanseo—I’ll be there too, of course, and so will you—and we’re going to see if they’ll remain affiliated with our Family. It’s best if we establish that early on and be clear where we stand. Without the Don, we’ll surely be losing half of our assets if Hanseo doesn’t convince them that they’ll still be gaining something from us.” He blew out more smoke.

Jeongguk watched it get lost by the windy night. “That’s good. We should keep the business going as it always has been. No need to make it a bigger deal than it really is. I mean, it is a big deal—we just don’t make it look that way to others, don’t make it seem like we’re lost or that we even think that the business is going to be hopeless from now on. It’s common sense and the obvious response but I wanted to reiterate it to let you know.”

“I get it. We can talk about that more when Hanseo gets home with the Don. We’ll discuss it too with Inhwan at the office.” Seokjin finished the cigarette quickly and threw it on the ground, crushing it with his feet. Though living within the Jeon Residential Area and accepted as an official member of the real Jeon family, he never once called the Don ‘Grandpop’ or Hanseo as his ‘Pop’. He always placed a barrier between himself and Jeongguk’s family but strangely cared for them like he was blood-related still. When it came to Jeongguk, he treated him like a real younger brother. “How are you, kid? Before I forget to ask and force you to go follow inside the house.”

Jeongguk chuckled halfheartedly. “I’m fine. I feel like shit. But I’m fine. You?”

“Likewise.” He snorted. “I’m just wishing that we’ll pull through this as smoothly as we can.”

They went inside after the short conversation and Jeongguk’s mood further deflated at the sight of his grandma in absolute tears. His mother, Yeonjin, was comforting the old lady and you were there doing the same, serving her with a warm cup of tea to soothe and calm her with Seokjin’s wife. Seokjin went to the kitchen to grab a mint and Jeongguk approached you four sat on the couch, going beside his grandmother and embracing her. He listened to her stories of distress, of how she loved the Don and has never loved another man in her whole life besides him. She said that though it hurt to have him leave earlier, she was glad that Don Jungsoo had passed in a peaceful death—in his sleep, and not by any means of violence, to which Jeongguk agreed to with a nod.

By 2:07 AM, Jeongguk’s uncles had arrived and they’ve taken his place beside the grieving wife of the Don who still couldn’t sleep until Don Jungsoo’s body and casket was placed at the garden and properly arranged. Jeongguk excused himself after giving his greetings to his uncles and subtly searched the house for you; he last seen you go upstairs where the bedrooms were with Yeonjin, and peeking at each one when he went upstairs to look harder, he saw you at one of the guest rooms, laying on the mattress though he was fast to notice that you had your eyes wide open to assume you were already sleeping.

He entered and purposely made enough noise to have you acknowledge him, and you did with a snap of your head to his direction, your eyes softening the second your gazes met. “Hey,” you said.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” He walked to the side of the bed where you were at. “Our luggages are back at our house, just so you know. We’d have to unpack but we can do that in the morning. The master’s bedroom is already ready though; you can sleep there for the night if you find it uncomfortable here.”

You slowly sat up and leaned back at the headboard. Jeongguk perched close to you and grabbed a hold of your hand on your stomach. “Aren’t you tired?” you questioned.

“I am.” He pressed his mouth together. “But I want to wait until they bring home Grandpop though. You should go to sleep, angel.”

“Why don’t you take a nap and I’ll wake you up when someone comes and finds you?”

“I think we both know better than to assume I’ll be waking up that easily with a nap.”

You chuckled. “I’ll kick you off the bed then if I have to.”

“I’ll wait with the others,” he said with a smile. “Besides, I haven’t talked to Pop in person. Haven’t seen Grandpop again either. I don’t want to wait too long for that.”

You nodded and fondled with his fingers. “Well, can you at least lay with me? For five minutes?”

Jeongguk chuckled, poking his tongue on his cheek before it was his turn to nod slowly, gesturing for you to move and give space for him. “For just five minutes.”

He laid down and wrapped an arm around your shoulders while you hugged his torso and pressed your cheek against his chest. You heard his fast beating heart, heard each breath he took, and the both of you said nothing for a short time. Jeonggguk ran his thumb up and down your arm and you played with the fabric of his shirt, the silence comforting yet daunting in an odd way for Jeongguk who abruptly thought of your actions back at the suite in Jeju. At that second, he was thinking if he should begin introducing the concept of the business to you—just a snippet of it—a vague description that would give you an answer but a lacking one for the events that would come. He could never explain the whole thing to you, the Cosa Nostra, unless it was the most ideal thing to do anyways; he stuck by their code and even if he didn’t, he didn’t want to stress you with the knowledge of what his Family did.

You managed to fall asleep in his arms and Jeongguk gently moved you to a better position on the bed before he kissed your temple, tucked you in, and left the room to go downstairs. It was 3:39 AM and he was sure that they were already arranging Don Jungsoo’s wake at the garden. His ears caught the engines of vehicles and the slams of the doors, followed by incoherent chatter and clicks of glasses that no doubt were shared by Caporegimes who fled from their territory to visit the Godfather.

“Guk,” Hanseo said when Jeongguk appeared from the staircase, “I’m glad that you’re here.” He was holding a glass of whiskey in another hand, eyes bloodshot and face looking older.

Jeongguk frowned as he walked towards him. “How are you, Pop?”

“We’re on our own now, Guk.” He ignored the question and clasped a hand on Jeongguk’s opposite shoulder. “I’m counting on you the most starting from now on. You got that? We have to keep the business running steady now that Pop’s gone.”

“Don’t worry,” he sighed, “we’ll sort it out.”

“I know, I know, of course, I do.” He drank the entirety of the glass in one gulp. “You’re my underboss now, kid. You’ve always been a strength in the Family—now I need you to divide your regime, your soldatos, to other factions—you’re going to be more hands on in this than you ever were.”

“Alright.” Jeongguk agreed. “I’ll do anything you want me to do. For now, you should stop drinking. You don’t want to get too drunk to entertain the soldatos and the guests that’ll go here. We have to talk too with Seokjin and Inhwan later.”

Hanseo nodded rapidly and to prove that he wasn’t going to drink more, placed the glass down on one of the tables in the living room with a rather loud thud. Jeongguk gave him a look but said nothing and just focused on striding to the garden where indeed the coffin of the Don was now situated. He inhaled deeply and watched the men from the funeral home organize the flowers and other necessary stands; his grandmother was also there, wiping the glass that enclosed Don Jungsoo in the casket that made approaching him harder for Jeongguk. Though when he and his grandma made contact and the old lady beckoned him to come closer like a child, he did and ashe saw him lying there, at peace and groomed in the best possible way, Jeongguk no longer found it hard to accept the reality of his passing, the thought that the Godfather deserved the long rest he had in stored now was enough to make Jeongguk feel better about it.

The wake of the late Don was attended by various personalities. The most controversial being policemen, judges, lawyers, prosecutors, and even politicians. Of course, the Dons of the other Three Families paid their respects as well, personally coming to the Jeon Residential Area and even going to the funeral afterwards when it was held a week after it. During that period, Jeongguk discussed with Hanseo and Seokjin repeatedly, sometimes including Inhwan at the meeting too. They handled everything needed to be addressed about the business; they went with what Seokjin said prior, which was talking with the contacts of Don Jungsoo and ensuring that their affiliation remained with the Jeon Family. Majority of them guaranteed that they’ll be honoring their friendship with the Don even after his death and that it can be counted on that their loyalty will still stand with their clan; the little others left though asked for understanding and some time to think about it for some organizations have also begun negotiating with them.

“It’s the Lee Family,” Hanseo said, sitting on the leather chair inside the office of Don Jungsoo; it felt strange to see him over there instead of his grandfather, Jeongguk thought, “they’re hoarding as much as they can. They’re trying to bring themselves to the top again. They even took the bait of Jang Yeocheol’s casino plans that Don Jungsoo didn’t want to take part in.”

“It’ll bring them more money, that’s why,” Seokjin said. “The casino will be used for narcotic operations. They’ve agreed to finance Yeocheol’s business and even pledged to protect him from the authorities with their legal contacts. It’s a logical route to go. Drugs are the leading commerce now, it’s being introduced in South Korea further; however, it’s the kind of filth Don Jungsoo didn’t want us to go with. He was already aggravated with the strip joints and all that when we caved into prosititution—drugs was the last thing he wanted to have associated with our Family.”

“Yeocheol will certainly want to talk to you again, Pop. He’ll want to restate and propose that we invest in him once more now that you’re the new Don. He’ll be hoping that you won’t have the same mindset as Grandpop and accept his offer this time,” Jeongguk told Hanseo.

“I wouldn’t want to go against one of my father’s last decisions.” Hanseo leaned back on his chair and sighed. “If Yeocheol arranges a meeting, we’ll entertain him, out of respect and courtesy. Ask a few questions too that we didn't get to ask last time for it was Pop leading. But we won’t dive into the business of narcotics, that’s already for sure. Do you have any objections about that, Consigliere?” He nodded at Seokjin.

“I’ll be honest,” Seokjin started off, “if it was Don Jungsoo who was about to get offered with it again, I would have said yes at this instance. Like I mentioned, drugs are the leading commerce these days, and I genuinely think it’d be good for us if we take a shot at it while it’s still slowly booming in the country.”

“But I’m not my father,” Hanseo supplied Seokjin’s reasoning early on and Seokjin nodded.

“You’re not, and we’re still at risk of losing some of our contacts and our legal defenses—one of them is even part of the Supreme Court and two are senior prosecutors. What Yeocheol wanted from us was legal protection, that was his main target, given Don Jungsoo’s connections and his power. So without that, I can only guess that his offer won’t be as grand as the last one. He’ll try to maybe it a little higher so we’ll bite, but the determining factor on how much we will gain from this is how much we will invest in the business still. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that—it’s just that are we going to be comfortable with the fact that the Lee Family is going to gain more from it than we will?”

“I’ll go with you when he asks for another meeting,” Jeongguk said to Hanseo. “I’d like to hear his offers face to face again.”

“What happens when the offer’s good then? Do you think we should go for it?” Hanseo asked him.

Jeongguk shrugged. “I doubt it will be significantly better, or I at least doubt it’ll be better than the Lee’s. We’re going to be second in his priority list with that Family in the picture. But with the question of whether we should go for it or not, I’d like to reckon that we should. Let’s not involve ourselves with the operations though, it will be too risky for us, considering our state at the moment, but perhaps we should focus more on financing and a bit of what we could do for legal protection as an initial contribution to his business. Then we can see where it’ll take us or maybe we’ll just stick to that initial contribution, to honor what Grandpop’s would have wanted.”

Seokjin and Hanseo shared a look; the both of them were thinking of the same thing, Jeongguk had the same rationality, practicality, and leniency as his late grandfather. The way he even enlightened them with what he thought held the same aura as Don Jungsoo. “Okay,” Hanseo showed his approval with a raise of his eyebrows, “it’s time for us to wait for their move then.” He concluded their discussion at that note.

Another week passed and Seokjin received a call from Yeocheol himself, the man asking if he could arrange a meeting with the new Don of the Jeon Family just like what Jeongguk had predicted. Seokjin told him that he will contact him again after he forwards the message to Hanseo and within the next two days, the appointment was made to happen, Hanseo, Seokjin, and Jeongguk present at the private room inside a restaurant that Yeocheol booked for the occasion. There they discussed about the business, what Yeocheol wanted, what the Jeon Family would do and get if they partake in it, and at the end, Hanseo still declined as what Don Jungsoo did—the only difference was that Don Jungsoo was better with his words and better at appeasing the person he’s breaking the news on that the Jeon Family will not meddle with their affairs.

In Hanseo’s case, he didn’t possess that kind of ability, didn’t have a smooth tongue or the charm to win the favor of the opposing party despite his decision, and so when they left the venue, Yeocheol was mad and contacted the Consigliere of the Lee Family. He was going to make Hanseo regret his choice and withdraw it.

━ CHAPTER VI.

RMEC Law Firm was recognized to be one of the best law firms in the state. It garnered clients with high ranks in your society and housed lawyers at the top of their game, including you who was appointed as an associate in the two years you’ve been lending your service to the company. Don Jungsoo asked Seokjin to endorse you to the Chairman after you passed the bar exam and Mr. Kim, the mentioned Chairman, in respect and with the aim to give back to the Don’s generosity for what the latter has done to him before, gladly took you in and played a big part in boosting the early stage of your career by assigning you to their uppermost clients.

You have been so grateful to Don Jungsoo, you expressed your thanks by sending flowers that he liked to his main office and boxes stocke bread that he liked to share with his men, and it was well appreciated by the Don as Jeongguk told you when the both of you saw each other that very day, saying that the Don was glad to see such a gesture from you.

Now, it has been almost two months since Don Jungsoo’s death; things were going back to normal but at the same time, going off to another direction. His family no longer looked disheartened or grieved so openly like they did on the first days of his passing; they were more focused on maintaining the JSG Group’s reputation and business to still be caught up with their own personal stress of losing a loved one. From your husband’s words when you asked if he was truly fine, the Don would have wanted them to move on quickly and get on with life rather than mourn never endingly—so that is what they were doing.

Three knocks on the door to your office made you look up from the papers you were reading and when you did, your gaze fell on Jeongguk who had a hand on the handle and a handsome smile on his features. You returned the smile and marked the last page you were scanning before standing up to meet him halfway.

“You didn’t say you were going to visit,” you said with a chuckle, Jeongguk placing a paper bag on the long table you had in your space before stretching his arms out.

“If I did, it wouldn’t be a surprise.” He embraced you and kissed you swiftly on the lips.

“Still, a warning would have been nice.”

Another kiss and he leaned away after, you instinctively glanced at the glass windows to check if anyone was there snooping. You had learned it the hard way when a couple of associates saw Jeongguk burying his head on your neck in mid-make out session and biting along your clavicle when he visited you in the past; that act of his became a hot topic for a solid month—how the extremely attractive and rich fiancé then of ____ was close to eating her alive in her office.

However, that wasn’t the reason why you were cautious at the moment. Aside from the teasing that you received from your co-workers when they heard the rather spicy incident, there were also questions that arose that time that made you uncomfortable and a little worried for they were clearly said with malicious intent about Jeongguk’s family.

“Is it true that he’s the grandson of the mobster?” a female junior associate of the firm asked you, bumping elbows with you while all of you waited for the President to arrive at the conference room. It was the perfect moment to bring such a topic up as all of the lawyers were there to curiously listen.

“He’s probably a part of it too.” Another one, a male and a few years older, reckoned with a chuckle. “It’s a family business when it comes to those things.”

They looked at you to wait for an answer but you only pressed your mouth together, an action that meant you were clearly going to keep your lips sealed and not give them the satisfaction of biting back. You were still considered a rookie within the respected lawyers sitting with you at the long table and therefore didn’t want to cause any fuss on your part.

“His family runs JSG Group, a shareholder of this law firm,” Namjoon, the son of the Chairman who also worked as an attorney in the firm, piped in nonchalantly in behalf of you and you turned your eyes on him along with the others there, “and I don’t think it’s good to conspire and gossip against a member of a major shareholder, Mr. Oh.”

“We’re not conspiring, Namjoon. We’re just joking and bantering here. Aren’t we, ____? Mobsters aren’t a thing now anyways. This isn’t the 1950s. It’s not like the Mafia is still here.” The former man grinned at you as if you were good friends.

You didn’t answer again; you just kept on staring at him with a blank face until he grew disturbed and was looking at the woman earlier for a supporting comment. She didn’t say anything too though, and the two of them settled uncomfortably on their seats and feigned innocence as they brought another topic to the table.

You smiled at Namjoon in thanks and he gave you a small nod, resuming his skimming on the folder in front of him. He was untouchable because of his position and influence in the company; you were glad that he was your senior when you were only interning in the firm.

In regards to what your two co-workers mentioned about Jeongguk’s family business, you decided not to concern yourself with it further by searching for answers. They didn’t try poking you around with their ill-natured remarks after the incident at the conference room; they left you alone pretty much the following weeks, avoiding you like the plague but you couldn’t care less to wonder why their approach to you drastically shifted. Deep down though, you were assuming that it had something to do with their stunt reaching the Jeon Family, particularly Jeongguk who might have heard what happened through Namjoon as they were friends themselves.

You already had an idea that the reason why Don Jungsoo was so respected and acclaimed was because of something related to that kind of occupation or involvement with affairs that weren’t exactly clean business; it explained why their family a lot of enemies, why a lot feared them, why majority sought for the day that Don Jungsoo’s empire would fall. That’s why you kept a safe distance from it all as well—because you didn’t know how you would react when you do confront Jeongguk about it and he verifies your theories. Just like what’s been happening since the late Don’s death; you were aware that something was going on within the business due to Jeongguk’s frequent bad moods and his late night departures. He has been busy for the past weeks and has been stuck with his father or Seokjin most of the time too—you noticed and acknowledged all of that but didn’t say a word about it. You’ve been in this kind of phase with your dad, wherein you wondered and got worried all the time, so you had a clue or two on how to live with it with forced ease and ignorance.

Jeongguk followed your glances at the windows and smirked. “Paranoid that someone will catch us again?”

You went back to him and snorted. “You really know how to read my mind.” You proceeded on walking to the paper bag where there were small boxes of take-out from your favorite dining place. “What’s with the surprise visit though?”

“Can’t a husband surprise his wife at work?” He snatched another kiss, on your cheek instead, and helped you in unpacking.

You gave him a look of teasing doubt, causing him to chuckle. Jeongguk was always sweet and loving, but he wasn’t one to think of surprises or gestures of affection like this for you to believe him.

“What’s with that look?” he exclaimed with a laugh.

“Oh, you know what this look means, sweetheart.”

He rolled his eyes, surrendering then. “Fine. I know I’ve been absent, alright?” he explained. “I just wanna make it up to you.”

You smiled. “That’s very sweet of you, Guk, but you do know that I understand that things have been busy right? You don’t have to force yourself to do these things just because of guilt.”

“They’re not just because of guilt, silly. I’ve been missing you too. I came here because I wanted to see you.”

Your smile widened to a grin. “So, does that mean you’ll be joining me here? You’ll eat this lunch with me?” You were hopeful now but he frowned right away. He has been absent a lot. You’ve spent many nights being able to fall asleep on the bed and not have him beside you.

“Uh, not now,” he sighed as he gave you the direct answer, “later though, I promise. I’ll join you for dinner—I’ll even cook for dinner and then you can have me all night.”

“Is that for real this time? You won’t run away while I’m taking your pants off because someone called?” You reminded him of what happened the other day when you two were heading to business and then he abruptly left you to take care of matters concerning the company.

“Yes, I won’t bail on you tonight.” He moved behind you, hugging you from there and encircling his arms around your waist. “Pop’s heading somewhere too and Seokjin has the same plans as I do, which is to obviously woo the wife. So, I swear, you’ll have me as much as you want, angel.”

You laughed, swiftly kissing his exposed cheek as he laid his chin on your shoulder. “Good. Also, now that you mentioned it, I think Dad’s going to be with Pop. I invited him for dinner first since he kept on saying he was feeling lonely with me not always in the house anymore but then he said he had plans tonight.”

“Dad has been guilt tripping me about that too.” Jeongguk chuckled. “He said that since I took his daughter away, he’s starting to know more about the rooms of the villa. Has he told you that he’s turning one of the guest rooms to a home bar?”

“Wow. He decides to do that the second I move out, huh?”

“It’s a fun concept. Just wish he had done it too when I had more reasons to go there.”

You snorted and Jeongguk grinned.

As you finished placing the take-out on the table and opening all the containers, Jeongguk made it known again that he wouldn’t be able to stay long and that he had to go; he had a meeting with a potential investor, he said, though he added as well that your dinners plan with him later will still go according to plan like he promised. You nodded and he gave you a long kiss on the mouth and on the forehead as an apology for going out so soon before leaving you alone to eat the delicious lunch he bought for you, which didn’t seem as appetizing as it usually was without Jeongguk to share it with.

At 7:31 PM, you were driven home to the Jeon Residential Area by your chauffeur. Arriving at the huge gate that secured the premises, you took note of the seemingly hundreds of men hired to guard the whole sector while the vehicle you were riding passed through. They doubled the security four days ago for a reason you didn’t know—and you didn’t ask, just mentioned it casually one time as a way of saying that you found it still concerning despite your indifference; Jeongguk assured you that it was nothing to worry about and it was just—as he always says—a precaution.

You thanked your driver as he parked in front of your home with your husband and bid your good night, hopping out and walking towards the front door. The car only left when you had closed the door and were taking your shoes off, the smell of familiar home cooked food blessing your nostrils that you hurriedly went to the kitchen to see what it was. You were definitely surprised to see Jeongguk behind the stove with an apron on the moment you stepped in, and you remembered a part of his promise where he claimed he was going to cook dinner for the two of you tonight.

“You really are cooking,” you said with an amused huff.

He lifted his gaze up and placed his spoon down. “Correction, I cooked. Past tense. I’m already done. You’re right in time.”

“Is it any good?” you teased; you marched forward to give him a kiss of greeting on the lips which he happily obliged to.

“Of course, it is. You insult me, angel.”

“I was kidding.” You swayed your hip towards his to set him off balance.

He chuckled and pinched your side as a payback that you whined at before he nodded to the dining table and turned off the stove. “Let’s set up the table and eat.”

“Okay.”

Among the other things that Jeongguk hasn’t been doing because of the past busy month was cooking, and it was because of that reason too why having dinner with the food he just cooked made the night a special one compared to the others in a while. He truly cooked better than you and was more useful in the kitchen. You were sure of that because unlike you, he grew up with a mother and a grandmother who taught him all the basics and guided him with the recipes he knew of today. You, on the other hand, mostly relied on YouTube video tutorials and did a lot of trials and errors on your own. It wasn’t until you and Jeongguk were getting serious that you began learning from Yeonjin to be a better cook yourself.

“What do we have for dessert?” you asked after swallowing your last spoonful of rice. What he prepared was delicious and fulfilling that you’ve been going on about how good it was while you ate, your husband’s ears reddening at the endless compliments. Not one to draw attention to himself for a long time though when it came to you, he’d ask you more about your day and open random subjects to get out of the limelight.

Jeongguk glanced at you; he still wasn’t done eating. “Each other.”

You kicked him under the table and he almost choked, startled. “You’re ruining my mood for good food, sweetheart.”

“Am I not good food?”

“You’re not even food.”

“Okay, I’ll rephrase that—am I not good to eat?”

You snickered and continued staring at him, the grin on your face remaining. He really was the most ridiculous man you have ever met sometimes. It was one of the qualities you loved most about him too though.

“There’s ice cream on the fridge,” he added shortly with a laugh and you thanked him immediately, standing up to get yourselves some mugs so you can start scooping for the both of you. He was in the middle of drinking water when the doorbell rang multiple times, sort of like in a frenzy, and he placed the glass down to attend to it. “I’ll get that.”

You watched him leave his chair and you went back to your quest. It was probably Seokjin who was ringing the doorbell at this time of the night, you thought, as he was the only one present in the Jeon Residential Area like you and Jeongguk were. This kind of circumstance happened frequently anyways that you didn’t even bat an eye as the sound of the doorbell echoed inside the house, you just assumed that it was his brother who wanted to talk to him urgently about god knows what. Though you can’t lie and say that you didn’t find the frantic doorbell ringing didn’t put you off guard even a little bit.

You were glad actually to have someone as close as Seokjin within the compound. It enabled impromptu lunch double dates with his wife who you were getting close with since you got engaged to Jeongguk. She was a beautiful and nice lady, only three years older than you were; she worked as a preschool teacher in a nearby school, which you praised her for because you don’t think you’d have the same exact patience as her when it came to kids to tolerate a job like hers.

“That son of a bitch!”

The ice cream scooper you held fell on the sink where you were washing it because of Jeongguk’s sudden booming voice and shout of profanity. You froze for exactly two seconds, time moving slowly, your heartbeat quickening, and with the wariness that was beginning to erupt in your system because of what you heard, you headed to the hallway where the front door was to see what the commotion was all about.

There you saw Seokjin hissing at Jeongguk, his hands firmly gripping his shoulders, his words inaudible and incoherent from the distance between you and the two of them; as you made your presence known, Seokjin’s eyes flickered to you and his eyes softened for a quick second, a look of downcast falling on his features.

“Hey, Jin,” you started it off casually, your voice unconsciously quivering at the nerves, “I thought you were off to woo the wife?”

Seokjin stared at you in a manner that you didn’t like. It screamed pity and guilt and sadness and the next thing you know, he was turning away from you in frustration, his hands on his hips as he faced the other side of the front door that was still open. You snapped your gaze to Jeongguk then and he was approaching you, his eyes glassy and stern; in each step he took, your heart dropped lower and lower, the uncertainty and the possibilities of what might have happened supplying frightening thoughts in your mind. It all came to a stop when Jeongguk carefully held both of your cheeks, his thumb rubbing your skin gently as if you were this fragile being.

“Guk,” you gritted your teeth, the anxiety was bubbling up too fast for you to handle; you’ve just been enjoying dinner with him, what have possibly gone wrong for the mood to shift like this? “what is it? Is everything alright?”

“Angel, listen hard, okay? I don’t want to repeat it again,” he said in almost like a hushed mumble. He knitted his eyebrows together, his tears piling up further—were they in sadness or anger? You weren’t so sure yet. “Pop and Dad got shot. We don’t have a definite lead on who might have caused it and now they’re in the hospital. But ____, Dad… your father… he didn’t—they couldn’t do anything anymore.”

Your heart was sent crashing down, you even think that you heard them shatter to pieces. His words entered your ears effectively but they weren’t processing well. You felt sick all of the sudden and your head was starting to hurt at this overwhelming want to sob, your eyes welling up. “What?”

Jeongguk gulped, his palms moving from your cheeks to your hair in an attempt to caress you in comfort. “He didn’t make it, angel. When they arrived at the scene, there was no pulse.”

“What? That can’t be true.”

“They did everything they could.”

“No,” you held on to his wrists, pushing him back, but he was strong and so he stayed holding you, “no, no, no, Guk—what? He can’t be—that’s not possible—it can’t be. I was just talking to him earlier—I even sent him a text while I was being driven home—” you were starting to hyperventilate, your tears running down. Jeongguk pulled you to his chest; you were thrashing and you were sobbing uncontrollably, the reality in which your father was dead was sinking in and causing your temples to ache further— “no, he can’t be—whoever told you that—it’s bullshit!” You looked up at Jeongguk, the way you looked at him was pleading, in defeat; your gaze was telling him that you wanted him to tell you the opposite, you wanted him to assure you that Inhwan was still alive. “Tell Seokjin—whoever it was that said, that said that—that said that Dad is dead—is a liar!”

He only stared at you in return, his own tears falling on his face. Inhwan was a prominent figure in his life as well, and to say that he was devastated and angry by the news would be an understatement. The sight of hum crying with you made you sob harder, his expression of loss and regret; it made your knees weak and your surroundings ringing deafeningly that caused Jeongguk to carry you in his arms better—it was getting impossible to breathe then and your vision was turning crucially blurry.

“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk whispered, embracing you tight, letting you sob hard on his chest, “I’m so sorry, angel. I’m so sorry.”

Before you could even think of replying, to demand an answer from him why he was apologizing, you passed out in shock of the overwhelming events, and Jeongguk caught you quickly, shouting at Seokjin who rushed back inside to get you. Together they carried you to the living room sofa, Jeongguk ordering Seokjin to get a glass of water while Jeongguk called Yeonjin if she could come to your household and take care of you. His mother agreed, already aware of the unfortunate event, and after they said their assuring words to each other, Jeongguk hung up and waited until you woke up.

As you did, your eyes blinking and brimming with tears once more, he kissed your forehead and stroked your hair. “I’m going to take care of this,” he said in a promise. You were coming back to your senses and you were remembering what your father suffered from. “I’ll handle this. I’ll find out who did it and, and—I’ll kill the bastard myself.”

You were still groggy and disoriented but you understood his statement perfectly. You gazed at your husband and saw now a new guise being shown on his face; it was familiar and foreign all at the same time. You’ve seen him aggravated before, have seen him being so frustrated when things didn’t go his way—but this right here… this dangerous and angry bearing he had, it was a totally different expression that you haven’t had the chance to see in the past decade of knowing him. It scared you and it urged you to think about Jeongguk’s well-being more than the horrible news earlier for a split second. “Jeongguk…” you whimpered.

“I’ll kill him.” His jaw was clenched. “I’ll make him regret what he did, angel. I promise.”

“Guk…” you breathed out and tugged on his forearm. He looked at your grip and allowed you to pull him towards you, to wrap your arms around his neck to cry some more. He sighed against your neck, whispered his apologies over and over again though with no explanations why, and when you decided to finally respond to what he was telling you, Jeongguk stiffened in surprise, not expecting that you would request such a thing, especially at your state, but who was he to judge and deprive you of the opportunity? So, nodding and kissing your cheek, he agreed.

You just told him you wanted to kill the man who did the shooting incident that led to your father’s death yourself, and indeed that was going to be what Jeongguk would enable you to do.

━ CHAPTER VII.

The bastard’s name was Lim Sehyung, a man who was an associate for the Lee Family. He was known to be precise and attentive to what is being asked of him by the Caporegime he was under, and for his latest assignment, he was to shoot the Don of the Jeon Family as a threat from the Lee clan that meant Yeocheol, who was under their wing, meant serious business.

To do that successfully, he followed the pattern of Hanseo’s whereabouts, he bribed a dishonest Mafioso within the Jeon clan, and offered the person more money if he gave the information that Sehyung needed. In only two weeks after his Caporegime told him of what he needed to do, he executed and met the unsuspecting Don Hanseo while he was leaving a restaurant with his Caporegime, Inhwan. He shot the Boss three times, all in the parts that wouldn’t be fatal because his death was not what the Lee Family wanted yet, but he wasn’t as merciful to Inhwan who he showered with bullets and who fiercely fought back, shooting even the latter’s forehead for a safety measure.

Within the two weeks after he committed the crime as well, the same Mafioso he bribed would be forced to reveal Sehyung’s identity as the soldato of the Lee clan who did such a terrible act—the said mafioso was beaten until he spilled the beans when Seokjin received the tip that he was was the one who sent the details of Hanseo’s frequent whereabouts to Sehyung, and when he did confirm that he was the one who betrayed his Family and conspired with Sehyung, in Jeongguk’s rage, he personally sliced the mafioso’s tongue off, asking Yoongi, who was the reserve Caporegime of Inhwan’s faction and was the acting one upon his captain’s death, to send the piece of muscle to Sehyung as a warning that they were aware of his doings and that he would be next. As Yoongi agreed and got to business, Jeongguk shot the mafioso with one bullet to his brain.

That was one of the few times that Jeongguk’s anger got the best of him. Because of the Lee Family’s schemes, his father was in the hospital trying to recover from his bullet wounds and his wife, you, just lost her father; to top that all of, he was now hailed as Don Jeon, the head of their syndicate with Hanseo’s bad condition and his uncle who didn’t have the wits to lead willingly giving the title to him. Jeongguk accepted the responsibility right away as soon as Seokjin informed him of the shooting, knowing that it was him who was supposed to help his late grandfather’s empire rise up again, and even that was a hard task on its own, what he found harder was breaking the news to you that night when your dad was murdered.

Inhwan was cremated after you visited his body at the morgue. Jeongguk was there with you when you did, and he took note of how you only hugged and sobbed against the lifeless body of Inhwan; you didn’t pull the sheet away from his face to look at him for one last time. When Jeongguk asked you about it as gently as he could, you told him that you didn’t want your last memory of your father to be of an unrecognizable dead man’s face who was killed without mercy.

Your answer made Jeongguk angry again though he had more control of his temper by that time and knew he had to be logical now in the steps he would be taking in the future. Amidst all the noise and the tabloids spreading more dirt about the Jeon Family because of Hanseo’s misfortune however, Jeongguk never heard one question from you about it or at least an answer why your father was involved with the mess and had received the most lethal blow. He knew then that you knew of what he did and what his Family was capable of; he guessed that he should have known anyways because of what he said on the couch the night the two men were shot and what you said in response to his proposal.

Seokjin helped you with the legalities regarding the winery. He was the one who pulled the strings and transferred all the entities to your name. It wasn’t a hard task and a big deal since you were married to the Chairman—Jeongguk was now the acting Chairman as well—so, just like that, you were appointed as the new CEO to lead the wine company.

“Guk,” you murmured to him before sleeping, two days before you would meet the man who arranged the demise of Inhwan, “promise me you’ll always be safe.”

He exhaled harshly, pressing his mouth on the corner of your lips. “I promise, angel.” It was a white lie. In the business, he could never be safe, but he would try to do better from that on just for you.

“You’re the only one I have now.” You told him that in a showcase of vulnerability and your voice trembled as you did. “I can’t afford to lose you too.”

“You won’t.” He ran his fingers through your hair, lulling you to sleep for it was only then he’s able to leave you to the care of his mother. “I’ll always be here. I won’t go anywhere. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

You cracked a smile, though a tear also fell out of your eye in that instance and he held you in his arms again until you were truly asleep. He left you in his mother’s safe keeping, hugged and assured his mother too that everything was going to be fine, and left that night to go to his grandfather’s house where the main office for operations was still organized and discussed with his Consigliere, Seokjin.

There they devised a plan that would be soon the prominent factor of why a war between the Four Mafia Families of Seoul would commence, the infamous bloodshed making it to national television as men were found dead on the streets and institutions were burned to the ground—and alongside that plan was the objective of being the winning syndicate out of the four, the strongest Family to be glorified and recognized, a ploy that would also be successful in months to come thanks to the combined ruthlessness of Jeongguk for their enemies and Seokjin’s intelligence that contributed to their excellent strategies.

His prime concern for now was having Sehyung pay for what he did to Hanseo and to Inhwan. On early Monday morning, Jeongguk had the solution for that problem as Yoongi called him and informed that they had taken Sehyung into captivity. He was pleased and impressed that Inhwan’s reserve Caporegime was truly competent to do the job right; he told Yoongi that he would receive a great sum of money for his adequacy and relayed to him all the details on where to bring Sehyung and what to do with him for the meanwhile.

“You think ____ can do it?” Seokjin asked him a day before Sehyung’s murder. They were lounging in the office, at their grandfather’s den, having just finidhed talking to some men over the phone to carry out their plans.

“Do what?”

“Kill someone.”

“I don’t know.” Jeongguk shrugged and brought his glass of whiskey to his lips; despite his nonchalance, he was greatly worried about you. “____’s capable of anything as long as she puts her mind to it.”

“Yeah, but killing someone, Guk. That’s a whole different story and you know it.”

“I won’t force it on her. I’m just giving her what she wants—if she decides not to do it, I’ll gladly finish the job.”

“You sure she wants that? She wasn’t just acting out of her emotions that night?”

“I asked her a couple more times after that night and believe me, she’s… she really wants to do it.”

Seokjin nodded in understanding and Jeongguk, who knew where his brother was coming from, made sure you were still 100% on board with your idea on the day he was going to bring you to the warehouse where Sehyung was already beaten like a pulp, like the soldato he trusted and conspired with, already on the brink of death and the only thing keeping him from hell was the bullet you were going to shoot.

Jeongguk knew you weren’t one to be squeamish easily, but if you were to see someone being beaten and kicked over and over, pieces of their flesh flying everywhere, he wasn’t so sure if that was still going to be the case; that’s why he opted not to let you watch the bastard get beaten in front of your eyes.

“You sure you want to do this?” Jeongguk questioned as you both got out of the vehicle. The warehouse you were walking on was a favorite torture place by the Jeon Family; it was only natural that Sehyung was going to be executed here. “I’m giving you an out right now. I’ll send you home with Seokjin and I’ll do it.”

“No.” Your expression was serious but your tone was uncertain. “I need to do this.”

“You don’t need to do anything. If you’re doing this because you think Inhwan would have wanted it for you—”

“Why else would he have taught me how to use the gun?”

“For self-protection,” he replied coolly.

You glanced at him, your eyes wary and yet determined, and he held out his hand. You sighed, taking it, and he led you to the doors where a couple of his men were there along with Seokjin, Yoongi, and of course, Sehyung who was tied in a chair. Stepping past the entrance, he caught a clearer sight of the bastard’s face and saw that it was almost indescribable by how much they’ve assaulted it; from the way your hold tightens on his hand, Jeongguk knows you were seeing it too.

“You sure you want to do this?” It was Seokjin who asked you that again while he approached you two, a gun ready in his hand. “Have you ever held one of these things before, princess?” He teased you.

“What do you take me for, Jin?” You had the nerve to chuckle.

“I’m just making sure you know what you’re doing,” Seokjin said, handing the gun not to you at first, but to Jeongguk. “Can’t turn back time once it’s been done.”

“He’s right,” Jeongguk agreed. “One last time, angel. You can back out now and I’ll do it.”

“I want to do it.” You gritted your teeth together. “I thought you were going to let me do it?” You were staring at Jeongguk with a hard gaze.

He returned your stare; he was analyzing every feature on your face, trying to detect anything that would give off your reluctance. Seeing none, only your frustration, your glassy eyes, and your pressed lips, he picked your wrist up and placed the grip of the gun on your palm. “Safety lock is still on. Do as you like then.”

You huffed out a breath and strode forward to where Sehyung was situated. Jeongguk followed but stopped at a distance to give you your space, Seokjin following beside him and halting at the same time, copying his movements. Together they watched you stand a few centimeters away from the man who shot your father, your arms raising and the gun you’re holding being pointed at Sehyung immediately.

Sehyung sat there immobile. His eyes were opened but you could barely see that they were because of how swollen it appeared. His whole face was a bloody mess and so was his body, streaks of blood shown on his clothes and some still pouring from cuts on his skin. As he noticed your presence before him, he lifted his head up, smiled mockingly, scoffed—and then with every last bit of strength he had, he spat blood beneath your feet and chuckled.

It was in that second, when Jeongguk thought you were finally brave enough to pull the trigger as soon as possible, that your hands began shaking, the breath you let out quivering as if you were cold. It was the least of what he was expecting from you—he reckoned that you would have shot the man at exactly the instance a droplet of blood landed on your shoe in irritation of what Sehyung still had the guts to do—but it made you react the opposite, made you second guess your actions and hesitate.

“Whaing ait yor ating fore?” Sehyung’s speech was gibberish as he taunted you, a large number of his teeth no longer in his mouth and his consciousness was fading out slowly. “Kill me, you bitch!”

Jeongguk gazed at you from behind, waiting like the rest, his fist was formed beside him in anger of what Sehyung uttered but he controlled himself to give you your chance—to give you what you asked him to. Everyone present anticipated your next move, to see the wife of the Don commit the same grave sin they have to be a made man. However, when the sound of your scared whimper entered his ears instead of the fire of a gun, when he saw your composed stance loosening and your feet staggering back because of the intimidation of your father’s killer, Jeongguk dashed forward automatically, threw the promise he made to let you shoot the man far off his mind at that instance, and positioned himself behind you, one of his hands on your shoulder and one on both of your hands that were holding the weapon.

You had all the nerve and the determination in the world for a lot of things; you studied law, you handled pezzonovantes as clients, you managed to be with Jeongguk even on the days you knew there was serious danger lurking around him and his family—but out of all the things you’ve been brave for, you certainly couldn’t do it for this one, and Jeongguk didn’t want you to go forth with something you obviously weren’t ready to do. He realized then at your reluctance and frightened state that he didn’t want you to get blood on your hands, to be responsible for another person’s death. You were one of the few glorious things in his life, the guardian on his shoulder that reminded him of the goodness still in this world, and he wasn’t going to change that just because of what you thought you wanted to do.

Ever so gently, he took the gun from your grasp and moved his palm from your shoulder to your eyes, covering them, using it to turn you around until he pulled you to his chest. There you sobbed, latched onto his shirt, and whispered apologies for not being able to get on with but Jeongguk didn’t mind them, he was focusing on holding the gun properly with one hand to assure you that you didn’t do anything wrong, the best he could do was just shush you in comfort.

“It’s okay, angel,” he mumbled, his hand on your eyes moving to the back of your hair, caressing it while he continued to shush you like a baby. “I’ll do it for you.” He pressed a kiss on your temple.

As the last syllable flowed from his mouth, he didn’t prolong it any longer and shot Sehyung twice—one on the head for what he did to Inhwan and the other on the mouth for the foul name he called you. You flinched in his arms at the booming sound, much more because of the sudden drop of Sehyung’s chair backward at the force of the bullet lunging in his brain, and Jeongguk calmly handed the gun to Yoongi who was waiting by the side to get it from him.

At the same time Jeongguk shot Sehyung, a soldato of the Jeon Family shot the underboss of the Lee clan while he was exiting the golf he frequented in at another location, and while that was taking place, another also gave Jang Yeocheol the taste of his own medicine under Seokjin’s orders for planning such treachery to the Jeon Family. Those murders would erupt the war between the Four Families of Seoul and would force Jeongguk to urge his Family (and all his loved ones) to go to the mattresses with him to protect themselves from the awaiting bloodshed from the rivalring organizations.

“It’s done,” he said.

You exhaled, nodding, and instead of being repulsed for witnessing Jeongguk murder a man in front of you like he abruptly feared as the bullet went through Sehyung’s forehead, the thought occurring to him that he has shown his worst side to the woman he loved, you embraced him tight and took heavy breaths to calm yourself. It was then that Jeongguk vowed to himself that he will never let you see him kill or harm another man ever again.

He was positive now that you were absolutely certain of what he could do, what his Family was capable of, and how much power they truly possessed. For the months to come, he would have to be more transparent to you than he has ever been before to keep you safe and to assure you that he too was going to be safe. The War of the Four Families was going to be the reason why you would be the first lady to join the Mafia in the Jeon Family, joining hands with Jeongguk and Seokjin as the three of you bring your clan back to the summit.

“Thank you,” you murmured and he looked down at you, strange to hear your gratitude considering what he did to obtain it. He was still expecting you to run away or to at least stare at him with disgust. The only thing you did was keep him closer to you, not wanting to let go.

He smiled and kissed your hair. Jeongguk was going to look after you until his very last moment on earth, both for his sake and for the sake of your late father.

“Anything for you, my angel.”

THANK YOU FOR READING & FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED ! ♡(ˆ‿ˆԅ)

tagging: @mercurygguk @fan-ati--c @moonchild1 @unicornbabylover @shameless-army @1-800-seo @fancystrawberrynerd @dreamamubarak (striked means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag them !)

Commitment

Summary: Everything seems to be going perfect in your life. Your boyfriend Jungkook is more than you could have dreamed of and there’s been a break in the case that could define your career — one of the members of the most elusive mafia, The Devils has been captured. Heading down to the precinct you couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling: Was everything too good to be true?

A/N: This Au has been sitting inside my WIPs for far too long. I decided to publish it and see if there was anyone willing to go on another Mafia!Jungkook trip with me. So, I’m sending this out to see how the reception goes. Much love, Jenn. Headers made by @firefly-graphics

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Mafia!Jungkook, Detective Reader, enemies to lovers, mutual pining

Warnings: mentions of fingering, sexual content, and violent settings

It was close to two in the morning when you’d got the call. You knew without having to look at the caller ID that it was your Chief. Something had forced his hand enough to call you to bring your ass back to the station. What you hadn’t prepared for were the words that greeted your gruff hello: “We got one of the sons’ a bitches.”

It was hard to miss the victory in his tone, and it was enough to spur you out of bed. Your feet hurrying towards the discarded uniform of slacks and button down from the previous day. You weren’t worried about jumping into a shower or putting on a wrinkle-free outfit to try and impress. For the first time in over a year you had a solid lead.

Being the youngest detective on the force, it left the heavy burden of having to prove your worth. The better part of your career being plagued by this case. You were a junior detective, promoted to lead strictly due to the unfortunate event the previous detective was found floating in the Han river.There’d been the wasted man hours on leads that fell through or witnesses that either went missing or completely refused to talk. The ones who turned up in missing persons’ cases usually wound up being found in trash bags scattered at city dumps. Your least favorite experience was finding a couple who’d disappeared only to be found crushed inside their car in a junkyard. Eventually, with so much loss and not enough wins, the entire station began to fall into a gloom of always being one step behind.

All you’d come to know about this Kingpin, Kim Namjoon, and his Devils’ over the years were that there were seven of them. One of the seven being the Kingpin himself, while the other six served a purpose. A well oiled machine with all of them holding specific jobs and nicknames. It took months and months for you to find out the name of the Kingpin himself. And in those months of searching that dragged on into years, the bodies and carnage of robbed banks, penthouse scuffles, and plays for power continued to haunt you.

After all this time you finally had one of the bastards.

The thought rang heavy in your mind as you hopped into your boots. Your fingers frantically struggled to tie up the laces. Even though there were more important things to worry about, you couldn’t help but glance one last time at your bed.

Jungkook hadn’t come home last night.

Ever since you’d met him, Jungkook appeared to be just as busy as you were. Both of you receive calls at odd hours that sometimes force you to excuse yourself from breakfast or dinner. Or the late night phone calls that had you leaving the bed with hurried kisses and promises to be back as soon as possible.

What you knew most about his work was that a majority of it required him to do a lot of night work. Your relationship was still relatively new - with your one-year anniversary coming up in just a couple weeks. It should’ve sent off alarms how quickly everything seemed to happen between you, but from the moment you’d met him Jungkook had you completely enamored.

You were never one for one-night stands. Even when your day was pure nightmare fuel, you’d never allow yourself the temptation of losing yourself in a total stranger. No, instead you found yourself losing yourself to the bottle. The night you’d met Jungkook had been a complete accident. The earlier hours of the day had left you wanting the comfort of your bed and a personal pint of Half Baked Ben & Jerry’s. The only reason you’d agreed to go out was because your friend had pleaded; reminding you it was her birthday.

The day ended up being one of the worst you’d experienced in a while. Your shift started with the basic petty crimes until you’d received one of the many calls you were learning to hate. Namjoon’s Devils’ had left a trail of carnage so widespread inside a building it encapsulated almost five floors. It wasn’t just a knife fight that happened in those halls. It was a shitty Andy Warhol painting of bullets trapped in grungy wallpaper. The carpet a fucked up Picasso of blood-stains that were still so fresh when you’d arrived with the others it was still wet; squishing under every footstep. Forensics was not pleased when they’d arrived.

After walking through that madhouse anyone would’ve deserved a drink. You especially. You were trying to do just that when your wait at the bar began to turn from a simple ten minute wait to nearing thirty. Your fingers began to tap out an inpatient tune, like annoying elevator music while you prayed the bartender would notice you soon. Your tunnel vision caused you to stop paying attention to everything around you. You were so damn fixated on getting that drink you hadn’t noticed the body that slid up to the left you. It wasn’t until you got the feeling someone was staring that you finally looked around to see if you could find out who. Your eyes were not disappointed.

One arm rested coolly against the bar. Not for actual support but for style. The pose allowed him to lean his body towards you just enough that it wouldn’t be invasive, but let him stay close. When you turned to finally give him your attention, like he desperately seemed to want, it took what self-control you had left to keep your jaw from falling.

His hair was long; the front barely grazing the middle of his cheeks while the back went further. His hair was a literal mullet. It should’ve looked ridiculous, but Jungkook was far from that. He was breathtaking.

You weren’t ashamed to admit it then or even now. The minute you’d locked eyes with him you realized it wasn’t a coincidence he came to stand beside you. You knew you should look away. You’d been staring at him too long now for it to be considered a fleeting glance. But your eyes were enjoying the sinful way the suit hugged against his body. When your eyes finally made their way back up the fine lines of his suit, you were greeted by a knowing smirk that, for a split second, made you forget how to breathe.

You weren’t entirely sure how you could pretend you weren’t affected by him in the slightest. His face was all sharp angles that were showcased perfectly by the curve of his jaw, and barely softened by doe shaped eyes. But even that softness was eaten by an eyebrow piercing that accentuated his brow that was currently raised in question. The smirk that lifted his lips matched the heat in his eyes as he shamelessly let you watch his eyes roam over your body.

You tried to focus on anything else in the space between you and somehow found yourself noticing a brush of a mole underneath his bottom lip. Its placement felt ludicrous due to its cuteness. Here this guy was giving you, “Fuck me,” eyes that were countered by soft touches that were scattered all over his face. It left him teetering between mind blowingly gorgeous and boyishly handsome all at once.

The expensive fabric of his charcoal gray suit strained against the muscles in his arms as he raised it up to flag down the bartender. Your eyes took in the length of his fingers and your body shivered as you imagined them sliding up your dress. Your cheeks heated with a blush you hoped he didn’t notice as you imagined those same fingers making their way between your thighs. Your mindly shamelessly began to wonder if was the kind of man that liked to tease - to prolong every ounce of pleasure - or did he just take what he wanted?

You were more than aware of how the black shirt underneath, just like the jacket, showcased a sculpted chest. He radiated sex appeal and power and you wanted nothing more than to be engulfed.

With the flick of his fingers the bartender appeared like magic. His question of, “What would you like?” sounded desperate to please as he waited for Jungkook’s instruction. Jungkook himself didn’t glance once in his direction. His attention was wholly focused on you.

“Give the lady whatever she’d like.”

Now that you had the attention of the bartender you couldn’t seem to remember what you’d wanted to order. You weren’t even sure if you wanted a drink anymore. Not when he was standing there looking at your mouth like he planned to either fuck it or kiss it.

“Does that include you?”

You expected there to be a hint of shock. Or maybe he’d take offense to your boldness. What you’d ended up receiving in return was that devilish smirk he wore like a second skin. It spread like wildfire farther up his face; lighting up his eyes to look like the big bad wolf as they roamed hungrily over your body. A silent prayer formed on your lips that he would close that distance and touch you. Your house could’ve been made of fucking cement and you would’ve held your door open to allow him to sink his teeth in your skin.

“Sorry. I’m no longer on the menu.”

You did your best to hide your disappointment at his dismissal by giving the bartender your attention.

“I’ll take a rum and coke.”

You refused to turn back to him. To let yourself be flustered farther by some ridiculously good-looking man who’d basically told you he was taken. God, but he didn’t make it easy. It didn’t matter if you’d decided not to look at him. You could feel his eyes staring daggers into you, itching along your spin, while you slid a twenty in exchange for your drink across the bar. Were you imagining things or did he get closer?

When you moved to step away from the bar, you finally gave him your attention. A glass raised half way to thank him for the drink.

“Thanks for the help.”

You tipped your glass and started to make your way back to your friend's booth. In the short amount of time you’d been standing at the bar wasting time just to get one drink the place had filled up. Instead of it being a straight shot back to the booth, you found yourself asking people to excuse you with your precious drink held above your head. If you spilled it there was a strong indication there’d be some cursing and, possibly, a few tears.

Your imagination began to wander into naughty places as you made your way across the floor. You didn’t like being grabbed when you danced on the floor, but you imagined what it would be like if it was him you felt. His hand at your waist, stopping you from moving farther from him, with his body shamelessly pressed tightly against you. The hand he’d secured at your waist being used to move your hips in unison with him to the next DJ requested song.

The tension between you two wasn’t something you’d imagined. You’d plainly stated your interest and he seemed receptive, but…

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing back over your shoulder. Just like at the bar you’d felt his eyes follow you without mercy as you made your weak attempt to cross the floor.The dancing bodies around you should’ve provided you ample cover. Or that’s what you believed, but when you glanced over your shoulder you found those intense doe eyes fixated on you. His lean frame was still pressed into the exact spot you’d left him at the bar. Even from where you stood, you easily mapped out the teasing curve of his lips.

In that instant you really did feel like Little Red trapped under the insatiable gaze of a predator who threatened to swallow you whole. Even though your heart began to thunder wildly in your chest you couldn’t deny that it was all from the thrill of being hunted. For a moment, you forgot to worry about your drink and the high possibility of it spilling. You were rooted there to the floor, pulse hammering, and waiting.

“Hey Y/N!” You could barely register her words, but when Eun Hyun touched your arm it jolted you back to reality. “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

“Did you get lost? Or has something caught the attention of that cop brain of yours?”

Her voice dripped heavy with teasing as she scanned the bouncing heads around you. She knew, somewhere in the sea of bodies, someone in there had turned you into a walking puddle. You gave her your best care-free smile and slid your arm around her waist. Your hips knocking against hers playfully to direct her back towards the table.

“I’m off duty tonight.”

You practically had to yell the words in her ear. If it wasn’t for the music being ear shatteringly loud, you would’ve worried about her eardrum. Your response sent her head back to rest against your shoulder and gazing over in your direction. Her laughter caused her eyes to crease into half moons.

The rest of the night you spent surrounded by Eun Hyun and her friends. You didn’t find yourself trying to find your mystery bar guy or wondered if he was somewhere watching you from a shadowed booth. You flung yourself into the girls night; your body gyrating and dancing to the throbbing bass of the music. Your mouth greedily knocking back every drink and every shot offered up by the next round from the bar. This was your night to unwind and you planned to take advantage of every minute.

When it was time for everyone to head home - and you being you - you hailed a cab for each of the girls. Eun Hyun decided at the last minute that instead of riding with you, she’d catch a ride with another girlfriend. The two of them believed that their girls' night didn’t have to end there at the bar, but somewhere still open that allowed them to be full of sin. They asked if you wanted to join, but you knew you couldn’t. As much as you loved living in the illusion of freedom, in the back of your mind, you knew the dark underbelly that was your home would be calling you bright and early. You didn’t need a massive hangover to join you during a homicide investigation.

Once the last of the girls’ was securely inside a cab you started waving for your own. You were usually a cautious person - came with the territory - so why you weren’t at that moment always surprised you. You’d thought about the second time you’d run into each other a lot. Why Jungkook never peaked your radar. The answer was a simple one: you never saw him coming.

You’d just stepped off the curb to open the back door of the cab when a suited arm beat you to it.

“Excuse me-“

The rest of your words died off the moment you looked up. He was just there. His arm holding the taxi idle, and keeping you captive between him and its backseat. Besides a coy glint of a challenge inside big doe eyes, you weren’t sure what game he was getting at. There was one thing you knew for certain. Years of intuition telling you the prize he was after was you.

“Get in.”

His voice was heady in its demand. The roughness of his words coated your skin in a heavy desire that left your body eager to follow orders. Too bad your legs seemed to turn to jelly by the way he stepped inside your space; his body easily overtaking your orbit. Eclipsing yours until you realized too late you were holding your breath waiting with anticipation for his next move. His dominance was on display in every inch of him. Particularly, in the way he moved. It could've been mistaken for confidence - he certainly wasn’t lacking in the department - but it was more than that. Jungkook commanded the universe to observe him and take awe of being in his presence.

A modern day Narcissus with all the power of Zeus.

Your body wanted to obey. Drunk you, however, wanted to be difficult. The stubborn side of you flared to the surface and made its own demand. “I didn’t realize we were sharing,” you replied, your words purred from your lips.

His response came in the form of actions. His hand that had held open the taxi’s door was now holding onto your arm and ushering you inside the cab. The hard length of his frame followed closely behind you to make sure you were getting in. If you turned to get out of the way you would just run smack into his chest.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?!”

You moved your body across the backseat until you were on the opposite side. Your back pressed firmly against the door. You turned to face him, watching as his frame followed in behind you and closed the door all in one smooth motion. His hand came down to pat a few times on the drivers chair as he directed him to an address that was definitely not yours.

A small part of you wanted to blurt out that you were a detective. See if it was enough to make his bravado wilt and followed up with messy attempts at an apology. The other part of you, one you later blamed on being drunk, just wanted to see what the rest of the night held in store. The hold Jungkook had previously had on your arm was now gone, but the heat from his touch remained.

The taxi lurched forward. It’s pace quickly sped up while the driver became comfortable with the information given from his gps. The middle-aged man gave you both a brief glance from his rear-view mirror. His thoughts deciding already the two of you were nothing but strangers heading home for a midnight fuck. He wasn’t far off, except-

You weren’t sure what you expected when you glanced back at the man beside you. A hundred possibilities with a hundred different ways to address them flew through your mind. Every single one of them dying before they were ever born on your lips when you found deep honeyed eyes seeing - not looking - in your direction.

“It’s a bit cocky to assume I want to go home with you.”

Your voice didn’t betray that your heart leapt into your throat. Your pulse sparks pure lightning through your veins, struggling, to keep a trepid tongue from running over your lips. His eyes flashed with a wickedness that was matched only by his smile. A curl of lips that you desperately wanted to feel pressed between your folds.

“You asked if I was on the menu, remember?”

“Asking if someone is included with a drink doesn’t automatically mean, ‘fuck me.’”

The drivers’ eyes peeled back up to glance in the rear view. It was subtle, but there.

Your harsh choice of words earned you a quirked eyebrow. His piercing glinted briefly by passing streetlights making him look ethereal. Sinful. This time your tongue did dart out to wet your lips and his eyes hungrily followed.

“No, it doesn’t. Looking for me while you should be enjoying your friends does come off that way, though.”

Your body went rigid with embarrassment. He’d noticed you as your eyes eagerly searched every face in the crowd. You’d searched, hoping, you’d find him, and yet you never once saw him. You’d even said a tiny prayer to the universe that maybe you'd run into him on the way back to the bar or pressed against his body on the dance floor. All these moments…

But he took notice of your desire and planned to use it to his full advantage.

“Come here.”

The demand was back. His voice practically dripped it along your skin. A silken promise to bring you to your knees and keep you there. You were eager to see if his words matched his actions. Without making him have to ask twice, you slide over to him. Your body filling up what little space you’d made until you were a breathe away.

The darkness of his eyes lightened for a moment. His pleasure at you obeying orders sent a spark through him. His hand came up a moment later with his index tracing the edges of your jaw until it cupped right below your chin. He used your obedience to his advantage and tipped your chin up to look up.

His eyes roamed the expanse of your face. A lazy thumb moved along the edge of your lip. The action was simple, and yet your breath was caught in your lungs. Hypnotized and waiting, eagerly, for his next move.

He must have noticed the heat in your eyes. The way you swallowed heavier around words of pleading that left your body wanton and trembling to be touched. A smirk ticked the corners of his mouth as he brought his lips closer to yours. Close enough he could’ve breathed you to him if he wanted. Instead, Jungkook faltered half way. Eyes dancing with mischief as his whispered words of, “Good girl,” painted themselves against your lips.

You bit the side of your cheek. A weak attempt to fight the convulsion to respond like a brat. You wanted to nudge him, something - anything - to make him take back his words. Even though his voice caressed along your skin, making it ache to sin.

His thumb was tracing slowly against your lips. His eyes holding yours hostage; demanding you to meet him with the same intensity. This was how Jungkook chose to watch you unravel at his touch. It would stay like this with every touch of his hands or when his cock was buried deep inside you. He came to life as you unraveled underneath him. Devouring every last hitch in your breathing with a hungry mouth and coaxing hands.

This is how he chose to watch you that night, in the backseat of that cab, as your breath caught in your throat. Your body curving to press closer to him with your thighs parting just enough to give him access. A smirk tilted the corner of his mouth as his head tilted closer to you.

“You’re such a good girl for me.”

Jungkook’s breath caressed the words along your lips just before he claimed your mouth with his. The kiss only meant to silence you as his fingers moved past the thin lace covering your pussy. His fingers pushing past your folds and plunging deep inside you.

Your body responded instantly to his touch. Your body arched to be closer; chest pressed up against him as your hand found a perch at the nape of his neck. You wanted to stay quiet. You were in the backseat of a cab for fucks sake, but Jungkook wasn’t giving you an option for dignity.

His fingers set to work on guiding themselves deeper inside you. Each thrust from his wrist sent a moan panting against his lips. Your hips shamelessly working in time with each thrust from his wrists. The palm of his hand cupped your pussy as he added another finger, stretching you wider for him.

A squelching noise was beginning to fill the small cab. Jungkook’s hand now coated and slick with your juices as you rode the high he was sending you on.

You weren’t like this. You were a detective. A woman who didn’t consider being fingered in the backseat of a cab a good time. Your common sense was raging at you to pull away from his kiss. To pull on his wrist and remove his fingers from between your legs, but the feral part of you told common sense to fuck off.

A secret part of you loved the way he unraveled you in that backseat. His tongue diving between your lips to caress across yours. The kiss at first was nothing but intensity: fierce and no doubt leaving your lips swollen. But as Jungkook continued to bring you close and closer to your orgasm it began to change. His lips still refused to let yours go. Your moans and gasps were forced to be pressed against his mouth as you panted for air. The kiss grew into its own sensual being. No longer was it fast and brutal. His tongue now moved languidly over yours, as if tasting every inch of you he could find.

You no longer cared that the cabbie was probably watching. Well aware that Jungkook’s fingers changed tactics and were now curving up into your g-spot. Your hands were frantically trying to remove his clothes; desperate to get home so you could have him inside you. You didn’t have to pull away from Jungkook’s lips to know he was smiling.

He couldn’t hold you to him any longer when the pleasure spread into your belly and blossomed in a burst of stars. You came for him - moaning prayers of ‘oh fuck,” - and head bumping against the window. You came while Jungkook continued to work your orgasm until your legs quivered uncontrollably. His pupils blown out with lust while he watched you come undone at his touch.

You couldn’t remember getting out of the cab at his apartment. You could only remember once you were inside, bodies were colliding against the wall of the hallway in a frenzy to remove clothes. Something broke on your ascent to the bedroom and you almost tripped trying to take off your heels.

All you did remember was the feeling of Jungkook on top of you. The tip of his cock pressing against your opening before he fully sheathed himself inside you. Your pussy struggling to accommodate his length and the sweet pain of his cock stretching you, working your cunt to take every last inch of him. Jungkook fucked you hard enough you felt him in your crevice. Your body trembling as pain and pleasure meddled together until it was sending you over the brink. Even when you got on top, hips working him with each thrust, Jungkook still took control. His hands on your waist going at the pace he wanted, and it was always too deep - too much - and left you screaming out his name in worship.

When you woke up you weren’t surprised by the massive headache you’d obtained from drinking half the bar. Jungkook silently laying beside you, deep in sleep, had been a huge surprise.You weren’t good at the whole next morning, ‘where do we go from here?’ sort of thing.

You were steeling yourself for the awkward moments when he woke up. For when you would tell him it was a one time thing and no relationship was going to happen. Ever. Of course, it wasn’t what happened at all. The moment Jungkook woke up his, “Good morning,” came in the form of a grunt. His body rolling you over and pushing himself inside.

You weren’t sure how a relationship happened. At first, you pretended it was strictly for the sex. A way to blow off steam from long work hours and the horrors of finding the Devils’ leftovers. But somehow his staying over only until morning turned into staying for breakfast. It traveled from breakfast in the house to breakfast at diners and dinners at restaurants. Eventually, Jungkook stopped leaving all together from your apartment, because it was now one you shared.

There were times you tried to deny that you could afford to fall in love, especially with him. While you were sure over the course of months you’d told him small and big things about yourself, Jungkook remained a mystery. The moments when he told you about his day or himself were rare and raw. As if he were afraid to come apart at the seams of the man he’d built only to be seen as weak.

Glancing over at Jungkook’s empty side of the bed, you tried to keep the dread from growing. You tried to shove it down as you climbed inside the elevator, your fingers pressing for the lobby. Jungkook never told you exactly what he did for a living. You just knew it kept him up at odd hours and sometimes - rarely - he would be kept out at night.

You weren’t going to allow yourself to be consumed with worry that he wasn’t home. Your Chief called with big news and with any luck, it was one of your leads that led to this arrest. All the worry that began to brew inside you quickly dissipated and excitement took its place.

Two years. Two long - nightmarish - years and finally you had something tangible. You had one of the bastards who helped terrorize this city and every resident inside it. The thought you could finally get some reasoning for the carnage Namjoon and his men had caused made you practically giddy.

The drive down to the station was done in a daze. You were positive no red lights were run, but you couldn’t say with certainty you didn’t speed. You dashed up to the back door of the precinct and squeezed past an officer who was on his way out.

He mumbled a hello, but you couldn’t respond. Your mind was focused on reaching the third floor where the man was being held. Your legs quickly found the staircase and took each one two at a time. Your body jolted forward as you came to the third-floor landing, and you broke into a jog.

The Chief was standing near the end of the corridor. His hands crossed with a Manila folder with everything that the department was able to gather on whoever was inside. When he caught sight of you, he pushed himself off of the wall taking lumbering steps in your direction. A hand already extending out the file for you to grab from him the minute you were within arm's reach.

“Finally. I thought with something like this you would’ve gotten here faster.”

“Hello to you too, Chief,” you snapped back. You weren’t too worried about him. Your attention was on the folder now in your hands. Your thumb running along the edge to help flip it open. “Can you debrief me on what we know for now?”

His large body made it hard to walk side-by-side in the hallway, forcing you to walk a little behind him.

“It’s all there in front of you: read it,” he huffed.

“It’s difficult to walk and read at the same time. Stop being an ass and just tell me.”

“Fine. We caught him in the act so to speak. He’d just finished paying a jeweler who we suspected was helping launder diamonds for Namjoon out of the country. Not sure exactly what happened, but from what we gathered at the scene, whatever's been going on between Namjoon and the jeweler must have been one hell of a disagreement.” The two of you stopped in front of the interrogation room at the very end of the hall. Your body was tingling with the desire to go inside. “When we showed up the jeweler and his works were already dead, and he was leaving with the suitcase through the back door. Surprised the hair out of the newbie when he met him at the door.”

The big man let out a chuckle that sounded more like a cough: throaty and from the chest. Chief was really in a good mood, you noticed.

“You say he, sir. We got a name?”

“Sure, as fuck do: Jeon Jungkook. Namjoon’s enforcer and right-hand man.”

You were vaguely aware that his mouth was still moving. He was talking, making words, and yet you heard none of it. The sickening feeling you felt earlier looking at the empty side of his bed came back. This time you physically had to fight your body from being sick. The urge to release the late dinner you had before bed was creeping dangerously close to the surface.

You were struggling to focus on his frame. Barely able to register the Chief was looking at you with worry. His lips formed words you were sure asking if you were okay but you waved him off. With the file still in your hand, you placed your hands on your hips. The movement forcing your dark trench coat to flare out around you like a cap.

In. Out. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

He was talking to you still; throwing questions at you on repeat and the only questions you wanted answers too lied within the room to your right. You didn’t give him warning that you were leaving. You just walked up to the interrogation room door, your hand reaching out for the handle.

Whether you were ready for what greeted you on the other side of the door - you weren’t sure. You made a silent prayer to anyone listening for it not to be him on the other side of the door. You would’ve given anything for it to be anyone else. Anything.

With a shaky hand you turned the knob of the door and stepped inside.

Your back was against the headboard of the bed. All the pillows that had been lost to the floor during sex were now back. Each one hugging to your shape as Jungkook tried to invade the pillow cocoon you’d made by resting his head in your lap.

He’d let out another frustrated sigh and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face. Jungkook hated your pillow obsession.

“I swear, I come home only to find another pillow added to the bed.”

“Or, hear me out, you just think you see another one.”

“I’ve actually started counting,” he admitted. His eyes edged up to look up at you through his lashes. Your fingers that’d been playing in his sweaty hair came to a halt. Just so you could do your best to hold his stare - looking as innocent as possible. “Today when I left the house we had ten pillows and now we have eleven. How does that happen?”

“Magic.”

You smiled brightly down at him before placing a kiss down on his forehead. You went to move back up when Jungkook stopped you. His body lifting up from your lap to meet you halfway to press his lips to yours. It was a chaste kiss. Chaste compared to how you usually kissed and as brief as it was your body reacted to him instantly.

You’d learned early on in your relationship it didn’t matter if you were having a bad day. If you were angry at the world, him, or frustrated with work. Jungkook was able to combat your sadness with just his presence alone. In moments where he smiled so big it crinkled his nose and the times you’d find him dancing shirtless in the kitchen while making breakfast. Even through the soft moments you shared, Jungkook chose to remain an enigma.

Jungkook released his hold on your lips to fall back into your lap. He turned until a cheek rested on your thigh giving him a good enough view to look out your bedroom window. The dying light of the day painting the window seal in hazy oranges and reds.

“This feels like magic.”

He spoke softly into the soft skin of your thigh. Jungkook brought a lazy hand to your calf and began to lightly move his fingers up and down. Your face became hot and you weren’t sure why you were trying to hide it when he wasn’t even looking. He was too busy, lost in the darkness of his own thoughts to know you were watching him and the way the sunset lit up every inch of his features. You traced the flowers on his sleeve in an attempt to calm the frenzy of your heart.

“What flower is this?”

The minute your words left your lips, you wished you could take them back. Jungkook turned away from the window to briefly glance at his arm. Already knowing exactly what flower you meant.

“It’s my birth flower. A tiger flower.”

“It’s a beautiful flower.”

“It is, but I didn’t get it for that. I got it for its meaning.”

You waited for him to continue. The room swelled with silence as you resumed running your fingers through his hair, but Jungkook’s attention was turned back towards the window.

“What’s it mean?”

He didn’t respond right away. The only way you knew he heard you was the soft tilt of his head. His eyes glancing at you from the side. You weren’t trying to pressure him. You just wanted him to know you were willing to wait and listen.

“It means, ‘Love me.’”

Each word hit you in the chest making you think, for just a moment, your heart was breaking. Jungkook’s voice told you more than he probably meant too.

Your fingers completely stopped their movement through his hair and moved down to take hold of his chin. Gently, you tilted his head up by his chin and waited for his eyes to meet yours before you spoke.

“If it counts for anything, I love you, Jungkook.”

Stepping inside the room you were greeted with the immediate sight of him. He hadn’t turned to look at you yet. His hands held together on the cool steel table. His wrists bound with cuffs that were attached to the metal ring at the edge closest to him.

He was dressed neatly in all black. From his long jacket that sat draped along the back of his chair to the high turtleneck that decorated his torso. In the breakdown of what had been taken in for evidence, you noticed they’d listed black leather gloves that he was currently missing.

You found your bearings and finally took that final step forward. Your feet carrying you around the table to the only chair available inside the room. It was then that Jungkook’s eyes flicked through the slights in his hair and you were finally able to see the light splatter of blood that was speckled across his cheek.

That was when it hit home that this was real. This moment, inside this very room, where your axis was tipping and your world was violently shifting. He didn’t have the decency to look away; to be ashamed.

No. A part of you always knew that the darkness that you assumed haunted Jungkook wasn’t out of sadness. An inkling of something much more sinister lurked underneath his surface, but you overlooked it. Pretended it wasn’t there all because you broke your own rules. You didn’t keep your guard up and if you had, Jungkook had silently removed every wall you’d been able to build.

Jungkook acknowledged your presence with a smirk and all that anguish you felt at his betrayal was instantly replaced with rage.

“There’s my good girl.”

“Don’t call me that.”

You hated the way he used your pet name. You hated it more with the way your body betrayed you with your core aching to be touched. Jungkook usually called you that when he had your legs spread out on your kitchen counter; eating your pussy for breakfast. Or bent over the couch with him buried to the hilt inside you, pounding at a brutal pace, with a belt around your throat and his hand controlling the pressure.

Jungkook’s response at your request was a sickening chuckle. You wanted to vault over the table between you. Grab a hold of him and shake him, scream in his face, demanding why? What was the purpose of all those months? Did he know who you were that night at the bar? Was this nothing but a game to him?

The smug look on his face made you want to go feral. The betrayal and hurt were warring inside your gut fighting for dominance. Each one knocking the air from your lungs like a punch. Jungkook leaned forward placing his elbows on the table and used them to get to the middle. His eyes were wild as he searched your face. No doubt reading the split second it took for you to hide the emotions you felt.

“Why? Do you not want them to know that we’ve been fucking? How I came home to you almost every night after I committed crimes you could never catch me for.”

And there it was. The truth you were dreading.

How many times had he come home to the bed you shared after he murdered someone? After threatening someone’s life or burning down a business? Came home to help you make dinner and he’d just taken laundered money or helped run one of Namjoon’s brothels.

You dropped his folder with a thud on the table. You had to fold your arms across your middle just so you didn’t actually reach over the table and strangle him. He would love that. See you lose control just to prove his point.

“You seem to be focusing on the wrong things, Jungkook. You seem a bit bitter that you got caught.”

The eerie smile dropped off his face as he snarled, “They got lucky.”

“Or you were just cocky,” you shot back. “And that cockiness cost you.”

“I wouldn’t be talking about cock-y anything right now, sweetheart.”

“How about we cut the shit and get straight to it, hmm? You aren’t going anywhere, Jungkook. You’ve been apprehended and you will never, ever, see the light of day again.”

The smug smile returned as his head cocked to the side. Clearly, you were more amusing than anything else to him.

“You’re soooo angry that I was under your nose this whole time. You had suspicions, but you chose to ignore them.”

You tried to swallow past your heart that was now clamoring in your throat. The scream that had been building was threatening to break free. You were struggling to remain emotionless. From the look on Jungkook’s face, you were failing miserably. You knew what he was going to say and you didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want something you’d told him in the moment to be used against you like the fool you felt you were.

“We both know why you ignored them, y/n. It’s because you lo-“

“If you finish that sentence I promise you I’ll punch your teeth down your throat.”

His reply came in the form of a wide toothy grin that lit his entire face up. The idea excited him and made him look psychotically attractive with the dried blood on his cheeks.

“You won’t get the chance even if I did.”

“What are you talking about?” You snapped.

He just answered you with that wicked smile. You were getting tired of the games. Your thoughts working on how to get past all the personal to the real matter at hand. You were considering how to work around it when the alarms in the room began to go off.

The alarm was shrill and pulsing. The sound hammered over and over inside your skull until you were sure it was going to explode. You glanced back at the two-way mirror and then to the door. You expected at any minute for someone to come barreling in to ask about what Jungkook said or to tell you the alarm was a false alarm. You were willing to bet it was until you started hearing shouting further down the hall. The sounds of running feet and jingling keys crept through the door.

You wanted to call and ask what was going on, but you hadn’t grabbed a radio and when the shouting got louder you found yourself back on your feet.

“Did you really think Namjoon and the other Devils’ wouldn’t come for me?”

Jungkook spoke to you like he was scolding a child. Your mouth snapped open, ready to retaliate, when the sound of an explosion sounded all around you. The alarms in the building were blaring like crazy. The next explosion sounded in the building and your arms shot up protectively to cover your head and neck.

The sounds of screams were now pounding in your ears. Matching the scrambling boots and shouts to find cover. You dropped your arms down from your head and looked around. Outside was pure chaos, but nothing had touched inside the interrogation room yet. Which only meant one thing.

“They don’t know which room you’re in.”

Your words were soft. Spoken mostly as a verbal thought. The realization of it had you scrambling out of your chair. Your hands digging for the cuff keys Chief had dropped inside your pocket before you entered.

You had resolved to never get this close to him again. You wanted to pretend that being so near would cause your skin to crawl, but it was too soon. Everything is still fresh and open. Jungkook may have betrayed you in more ways than your brain could possibly fathom at this point. But the only thing your body felt, being this close to him, was desire.

“What are you doing?”

Jungkook was staring up at you with amusement. His gaze set on your face and no doubt finding the humor in the way your jaw clenched at having to press this close up against him.

“If they don’t know what room that means I have a chance to take you somewhere else. Somewhere safe.”

“You’re freeing me?” One eyebrow curled up towards his hairline. The amusement was still heavy in his tone, but underneath was he…hopeful?

A snort of laughter was your only reply as you continued to work on the chain that held his cuffs in place.

“No, Jungkook, I'm not freeing you. I’m making sure you end up where you belong.”

“And where is that, exactly?” He snapped.

The amusement had fallen from him and was replaced with the look of someone deadly. Someone you didn’t know. The change was swift and almost had you taking a step back from him. This was the real Jungkook. The enforcer, Chief called him. Looking at him you couldn’t agree with a more fitting title for the fierce man that looked up at you.

“In prison.”

You weren’t sure how you found the courage to reply or to meet the fury in his eyes. The second your words registered you watched a spark ignite in his eyes and a snarl bare his teeth. This time your body did give a jolt in surprise. You went to move back from him, but Jungkook’s hands were on your arms gripping you right. Refusing to let go.

“No. I belong with you and you belong with me.”

You were shaking your head struggling to free yourself from having to hear him. His words cut deep and dug into your soul. How stupid of him to not realize it didn’t matter how you felt. How he felt. You knew who he was now and nothing could change that. Nothing should be able to change that.

“No,” you gasped.

You didn’t know when you started crying. All you knew was that your eyes were stinging with unshed tears. As much as you fought to hold them in, you knew it was just a matter of time before you lost.

“Yes! You know it as much as I do. All these months we’ve been together. Deep down, in your gut, you knew all along who I was.”

“That’s impossible! I’m not fuckin psychic!”

“No. You’re a detective and a good one at that. You’re not dumb, y/n.” You were shaking your head vigorously like it would be enough to drown out every word he spoke. The grip on your arms felt constricting and yet, you didn’t pull away. “We belong together. You know it.”

The rage at his words, or yourself for allowing him to talk and for you to listen, was building up. You were going to scream. It felt like you were going to open your mouth to do so when another explosion went off.

This one was closer than the others. Close enough that it shattered the glass off the two-way mirror and sent it flying like shrapnel into the room. You were still stunned by the explosion, your body stuck in shock, but Jungkook was already moving.

A hand reached out to grab the edge of the interrogation table. He flipped it over with ease and grabbed you just as another explosion sounded. He didn’t grab you quick enough. You didn’t have to touch your head right away to know it was bleeding. You’d felt the debris of something - a chunk of concrete, plywood, or glass - hit the backside of your head. Your vision was now doubled and cloudy. The words being said around you sounded like they were speaking through cotton balls.

Vaguely, you became aware that there were other men in the room now. All of them dressed in black with decorated hockey masks that sat on top of ski masks. One of them was bending down, bolt cutters in his hands, and made quick work of Jungkook’s cuffs just as Namjoon entered the room.

He walked through the hole the explosion created, framed by billowing smoke and flames. Namjoon appeared completely untouched. Exactly like the Devil himself.

You tried to go for your side arm but someone stopped you. A boot kicking you back that was met with a savage snarl as Jungkook launched himself at your attacker. The darkness around your vision was winning. No matter what you told yourself, you weren’t going to be able to fight passing out. Your eyes fluttered over to the sight of Jungkook. His fist had wrapped his handcuffs around his knuckles and was smashing repeatedly into the mask of the man who’d kicked you.

“That’s enough, Jungkook.” Namjoon’s baritone was rich and deep. It didn’t surprise you that it went with one of the most notorious mob king’s that ever resided in this city. “We need to leave. Now. We’ll talk about your lack of tact when we get home.”

“I’m not leaving without her.”

Namjoon turned to him. His eyes followed as Jungkook threw down the bloodstained cuffs and moved towards you. You wanted to say something - tried to say something - but all that came out was mumble words and a whimper.

“You know you can’t bring her, Jungkook.”

“I’ll say this one more time, Joon. I’m not leaving here. Not without her.”

Irritation rippled across Namjoon’s features and his jaw clenched tight. You could tell he was thinking with his eyes roaming down to look you over. Finally noticing the state that you were in. His tongue rolled around in his cheek before he looked back at Jungkook. His frustration only made his forehead crease further.

“Fuck it. Hurry up and grab her.”

Jungkook didn’t even wait for Namjoon to finish his sentence. He pushed the tossed over table farther away making it easier for him to move down and scoop you up into his arms. The sudden movement caused your world to spin and it wouldn’t stop. Squinting your eyes you nestled your forehead against his shoulder trying to make your head stop spinning. It wasn’t working.

A whimper escaped you as Jungkook started moving forward. The crumbling department was only something you were able to imagine as you refused to look. No matter how hard you shut your eyes, however, it wouldn’t stop the sounds of men yelling for backup and others in pain. The pops of bullets leaving the chambers and the clamoring of feet to escape.

“I’ve got you, my love,” Jungkook hummed against your cheek. “I’ve always got you.”

If you were stronger you would’ve clamored out of his arms and moved away. You would spit curses at him and inform him that he was delusional. You would never be his any longer, but before the blackness overtook you a tiny voice reminded you that you were a liar.

You would always be his.

Commitment

Summary: Everything seems to be going perfect in your life. Your boyfriend Jungkook is more than you could have dreamed of and there’s been a break in the case that could define your career — one of the members of the most elusive mafia, The Devils has been captured. Heading down to the precinct you couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling: Was everything too good to be true?

A/N: This Au has been sitting inside my WIPs for far too long. I decided to publish it and see if there was anyone willing to go on another Mafia!Jungkook trip with me. So, I’m sending this out to see how the reception goes. Much love, Jenn. Headers made by @firefly-graphics

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Mafia!Jungkook, Detective Reader, enemies to lovers, mutual pining

Warnings: mentions of fingering, sexual content, and violent settings

It was close to two in the morning when you’d got the call. You knew without having to look at the caller ID that it was your Chief. Something had forced his hand enough to call you to bring your ass back to the station. What you hadn’t prepared for were the words that greeted your gruff hello: “We got one of the sons’ a bitches.”

It was hard to miss the victory in his tone, and it was enough to spur you out of bed. Your feet hurrying towards the discarded uniform of slacks and button down from the previous day. You weren’t worried about jumping into a shower or putting on a wrinkle-free outfit to try and impress. For the first time in over a year you had a solid lead.

Being the youngest detective on the force, it left the heavy burden of having to prove your worth. The better part of your career being plagued by this case. You were a junior detective, promoted to lead strictly due to the unfortunate event the previous detective was found floating in the Han river.There’d been the wasted man hours on leads that fell through or witnesses that either went missing or completely refused to talk. The ones who turned up in missing persons’ cases usually wound up being found in trash bags scattered at city dumps. Your least favorite experience was finding a couple who’d disappeared only to be found crushed inside their car in a junkyard. Eventually, with so much loss and not enough wins, the entire station began to fall into a gloom of always being one step behind.

All you’d come to know about this Kingpin, Kim Namjoon, and his Devils’ over the years were that there were seven of them. One of the seven being the Kingpin himself, while the other six served a purpose. A well oiled machine with all of them holding specific jobs and nicknames. It took months and months for you to find out the name of the Kingpin himself. And in those months of searching that dragged on into years, the bodies and carnage of robbed banks, penthouse scuffles, and plays for power continued to haunt you.

After all this time you finally had one of the bastards.

The thought rang heavy in your mind as you hopped into your boots. Your fingers frantically struggled to tie up the laces. Even though there were more important things to worry about, you couldn’t help but glance one last time at your bed.

Jungkook hadn’t come home last night.

Ever since you’d met him, Jungkook appeared to be just as busy as you were. Both of you receive calls at odd hours that sometimes force you to excuse yourself from breakfast or dinner. Or the late night phone calls that had you leaving the bed with hurried kisses and promises to be back as soon as possible.

What you knew most about his work was that a majority of it required him to do a lot of night work. Your relationship was still relatively new - with your one-year anniversary coming up in just a couple weeks. It should’ve sent off alarms how quickly everything seemed to happen between you, but from the moment you’d met him Jungkook had you completely enamored.

You were never one for one-night stands. Even when your day was pure nightmare fuel, you’d never allow yourself the temptation of losing yourself in a total stranger. No, instead you found yourself losing yourself to the bottle. The night you’d met Jungkook had been a complete accident. The earlier hours of the day had left you wanting the comfort of your bed and a personal pint of Half Baked Ben & Jerry’s. The only reason you’d agreed to go out was because your friend had pleaded; reminding you it was her birthday.

The day ended up being one of the worst you’d experienced in a while. Your shift started with the basic petty crimes until you’d received one of the many calls you were learning to hate. Namjoon’s Devils’ had left a trail of carnage so widespread inside a building it encapsulated almost five floors. It wasn’t just a knife fight that happened in those halls. It was a shitty Andy Warhol painting of bullets trapped in grungy wallpaper. The carpet a fucked up Picasso of blood-stains that were still so fresh when you’d arrived with the others it was still wet; squishing under every footstep. Forensics was not pleased when they’d arrived.

After walking through that madhouse anyone would’ve deserved a drink. You especially. You were trying to do just that when your wait at the bar began to turn from a simple ten minute wait to nearing thirty. Your fingers began to tap out an inpatient tune, like annoying elevator music while you prayed the bartender would notice you soon. Your tunnel vision caused you to stop paying attention to everything around you. You were so damn fixated on getting that drink you hadn’t noticed the body that slid up to the left you. It wasn’t until you got the feeling someone was staring that you finally looked around to see if you could find out who. Your eyes were not disappointed.

One arm rested coolly against the bar. Not for actual support but for style. The pose allowed him to lean his body towards you just enough that it wouldn’t be invasive, but let him stay close. When you turned to finally give him your attention, like he desperately seemed to want, it took what self-control you had left to keep your jaw from falling.

His hair was long; the front barely grazing the middle of his cheeks while the back went further. His hair was a literal mullet. It should’ve looked ridiculous, but Jungkook was far from that. He was breathtaking.

You weren’t ashamed to admit it then or even now. The minute you’d locked eyes with him you realized it wasn’t a coincidence he came to stand beside you. You knew you should look away. You’d been staring at him too long now for it to be considered a fleeting glance. But your eyes were enjoying the sinful way the suit hugged against his body. When your eyes finally made their way back up the fine lines of his suit, you were greeted by a knowing smirk that, for a split second, made you forget how to breathe.

You weren’t entirely sure how you could pretend you weren’t affected by him in the slightest. His face was all sharp angles that were showcased perfectly by the curve of his jaw, and barely softened by doe shaped eyes. But even that softness was eaten by an eyebrow piercing that accentuated his brow that was currently raised in question. The smirk that lifted his lips matched the heat in his eyes as he shamelessly let you watch his eyes roam over your body.

You tried to focus on anything else in the space between you and somehow found yourself noticing a brush of a mole underneath his bottom lip. Its placement felt ludicrous due to its cuteness. Here this guy was giving you, “Fuck me,” eyes that were countered by soft touches that were scattered all over his face. It left him teetering between mind blowingly gorgeous and boyishly handsome all at once.

The expensive fabric of his charcoal gray suit strained against the muscles in his arms as he raised it up to flag down the bartender. Your eyes took in the length of his fingers and your body shivered as you imagined them sliding up your dress. Your cheeks heated with a blush you hoped he didn’t notice as you imagined those same fingers making their way between your thighs. Your mindly shamelessly began to wonder if was the kind of man that liked to tease - to prolong every ounce of pleasure - or did he just take what he wanted?

You were more than aware of how the black shirt underneath, just like the jacket, showcased a sculpted chest. He radiated sex appeal and power and you wanted nothing more than to be engulfed.

With the flick of his fingers the bartender appeared like magic. His question of, “What would you like?” sounded desperate to please as he waited for Jungkook’s instruction. Jungkook himself didn’t glance once in his direction. His attention was wholly focused on you.

“Give the lady whatever she’d like.”

Now that you had the attention of the bartender you couldn’t seem to remember what you’d wanted to order. You weren’t even sure if you wanted a drink anymore. Not when he was standing there looking at your mouth like he planned to either fuck it or kiss it.

“Does that include you?”

You expected there to be a hint of shock. Or maybe he’d take offense to your boldness. What you’d ended up receiving in return was that devilish smirk he wore like a second skin. It spread like wildfire farther up his face; lighting up his eyes to look like the big bad wolf as they roamed hungrily over your body. A silent prayer formed on your lips that he would close that distance and touch you. Your house could’ve been made of fucking cement and you would’ve held your door open to allow him to sink his teeth in your skin.

“Sorry. I’m no longer on the menu.”

You did your best to hide your disappointment at his dismissal by giving the bartender your attention.

“I’ll take a rum and coke.”

You refused to turn back to him. To let yourself be flustered farther by some ridiculously good-looking man who’d basically told you he was taken. God, but he didn’t make it easy. It didn’t matter if you’d decided not to look at him. You could feel his eyes staring daggers into you, itching along your spin, while you slid a twenty in exchange for your drink across the bar. Were you imagining things or did he get closer?

When you moved to step away from the bar, you finally gave him your attention. A glass raised half way to thank him for the drink.

“Thanks for the help.”

You tipped your glass and started to make your way back to your friend's booth. In the short amount of time you’d been standing at the bar wasting time just to get one drink the place had filled up. Instead of it being a straight shot back to the booth, you found yourself asking people to excuse you with your precious drink held above your head. If you spilled it there was a strong indication there’d be some cursing and, possibly, a few tears.

Your imagination began to wander into naughty places as you made your way across the floor. You didn’t like being grabbed when you danced on the floor, but you imagined what it would be like if it was him you felt. His hand at your waist, stopping you from moving farther from him, with his body shamelessly pressed tightly against you. The hand he’d secured at your waist being used to move your hips in unison with him to the next DJ requested song.

The tension between you two wasn’t something you’d imagined. You’d plainly stated your interest and he seemed receptive, but…

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing back over your shoulder. Just like at the bar you’d felt his eyes follow you without mercy as you made your weak attempt to cross the floor.The dancing bodies around you should’ve provided you ample cover. Or that’s what you believed, but when you glanced over your shoulder you found those intense doe eyes fixated on you. His lean frame was still pressed into the exact spot you’d left him at the bar. Even from where you stood, you easily mapped out the teasing curve of his lips.

In that instant you really did feel like Little Red trapped under the insatiable gaze of a predator who threatened to swallow you whole. Even though your heart began to thunder wildly in your chest you couldn’t deny that it was all from the thrill of being hunted. For a moment, you forgot to worry about your drink and the high possibility of it spilling. You were rooted there to the floor, pulse hammering, and waiting.

“Hey Y/N!” You could barely register her words, but when Eun Hyun touched your arm it jolted you back to reality. “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

“Did you get lost? Or has something caught the attention of that cop brain of yours?”

Her voice dripped heavy with teasing as she scanned the bouncing heads around you. She knew, somewhere in the sea of bodies, someone in there had turned you into a walking puddle. You gave her your best care-free smile and slid your arm around her waist. Your hips knocking against hers playfully to direct her back towards the table.

“I’m off duty tonight.”

You practically had to yell the words in her ear. If it wasn’t for the music being ear shatteringly loud, you would’ve worried about her eardrum. Your response sent her head back to rest against your shoulder and gazing over in your direction. Her laughter caused her eyes to crease into half moons.

The rest of the night you spent surrounded by Eun Hyun and her friends. You didn’t find yourself trying to find your mystery bar guy or wondered if he was somewhere watching you from a shadowed booth. You flung yourself into the girls night; your body gyrating and dancing to the throbbing bass of the music. Your mouth greedily knocking back every drink and every shot offered up by the next round from the bar. This was your night to unwind and you planned to take advantage of every minute.

When it was time for everyone to head home - and you being you - you hailed a cab for each of the girls. Eun Hyun decided at the last minute that instead of riding with you, she’d catch a ride with another girlfriend. The two of them believed that their girls' night didn’t have to end there at the bar, but somewhere still open that allowed them to be full of sin. They asked if you wanted to join, but you knew you couldn’t. As much as you loved living in the illusion of freedom, in the back of your mind, you knew the dark underbelly that was your home would be calling you bright and early. You didn’t need a massive hangover to join you during a homicide investigation.

Once the last of the girls’ was securely inside a cab you started waving for your own. You were usually a cautious person - came with the territory - so why you weren’t at that moment always surprised you. You’d thought about the second time you’d run into each other a lot. Why Jungkook never peaked your radar. The answer was a simple one: you never saw him coming.

You’d just stepped off the curb to open the back door of the cab when a suited arm beat you to it.

“Excuse me-“

The rest of your words died off the moment you looked up. He was just there. His arm holding the taxi idle, and keeping you captive between him and its backseat. Besides a coy glint of a challenge inside big doe eyes, you weren’t sure what game he was getting at. There was one thing you knew for certain. Years of intuition telling you the prize he was after was you.

“Get in.”

His voice was heady in its demand. The roughness of his words coated your skin in a heavy desire that left your body eager to follow orders. Too bad your legs seemed to turn to jelly by the way he stepped inside your space; his body easily overtaking your orbit. Eclipsing yours until you realized too late you were holding your breath waiting with anticipation for his next move. His dominance was on display in every inch of him. Particularly, in the way he moved. It could've been mistaken for confidence - he certainly wasn’t lacking in the department - but it was more than that. Jungkook commanded the universe to observe him and take awe of being in his presence.

A modern day Narcissus with all the power of Zeus.

Your body wanted to obey. Drunk you, however, wanted to be difficult. The stubborn side of you flared to the surface and made its own demand. “I didn’t realize we were sharing,” you replied, your words purred from your lips.

His response came in the form of actions. His hand that had held open the taxi’s door was now holding onto your arm and ushering you inside the cab. The hard length of his frame followed closely behind you to make sure you were getting in. If you turned to get out of the way you would just run smack into his chest.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?!”

You moved your body across the backseat until you were on the opposite side. Your back pressed firmly against the door. You turned to face him, watching as his frame followed in behind you and closed the door all in one smooth motion. His hand came down to pat a few times on the drivers chair as he directed him to an address that was definitely not yours.

A small part of you wanted to blurt out that you were a detective. See if it was enough to make his bravado wilt and followed up with messy attempts at an apology. The other part of you, one you later blamed on being drunk, just wanted to see what the rest of the night held in store. The hold Jungkook had previously had on your arm was now gone, but the heat from his touch remained.

The taxi lurched forward. It’s pace quickly sped up while the driver became comfortable with the information given from his gps. The middle-aged man gave you both a brief glance from his rear-view mirror. His thoughts deciding already the two of you were nothing but strangers heading home for a midnight fuck. He wasn’t far off, except-

You weren’t sure what you expected when you glanced back at the man beside you. A hundred possibilities with a hundred different ways to address them flew through your mind. Every single one of them dying before they were ever born on your lips when you found deep honeyed eyes seeing - not looking - in your direction.

“It’s a bit cocky to assume I want to go home with you.”

Your voice didn’t betray that your heart leapt into your throat. Your pulse sparks pure lightning through your veins, struggling, to keep a trepid tongue from running over your lips. His eyes flashed with a wickedness that was matched only by his smile. A curl of lips that you desperately wanted to feel pressed between your folds.

“You asked if I was on the menu, remember?”

“Asking if someone is included with a drink doesn’t automatically mean, ‘fuck me.’”

The drivers’ eyes peeled back up to glance in the rear view. It was subtle, but there.

Your harsh choice of words earned you a quirked eyebrow. His piercing glinted briefly by passing streetlights making him look ethereal. Sinful. This time your tongue did dart out to wet your lips and his eyes hungrily followed.

“No, it doesn’t. Looking for me while you should be enjoying your friends does come off that way, though.”

Your body went rigid with embarrassment. He’d noticed you as your eyes eagerly searched every face in the crowd. You’d searched, hoping, you’d find him, and yet you never once saw him. You’d even said a tiny prayer to the universe that maybe you'd run into him on the way back to the bar or pressed against his body on the dance floor. All these moments…

But he took notice of your desire and planned to use it to his full advantage.

“Come here.”

The demand was back. His voice practically dripped it along your skin. A silken promise to bring you to your knees and keep you there. You were eager to see if his words matched his actions. Without making him have to ask twice, you slide over to him. Your body filling up what little space you’d made until you were a breathe away.

The darkness of his eyes lightened for a moment. His pleasure at you obeying orders sent a spark through him. His hand came up a moment later with his index tracing the edges of your jaw until it cupped right below your chin. He used your obedience to his advantage and tipped your chin up to look up.

His eyes roamed the expanse of your face. A lazy thumb moved along the edge of your lip. The action was simple, and yet your breath was caught in your lungs. Hypnotized and waiting, eagerly, for his next move.

He must have noticed the heat in your eyes. The way you swallowed heavier around words of pleading that left your body wanton and trembling to be touched. A smirk ticked the corners of his mouth as he brought his lips closer to yours. Close enough he could’ve breathed you to him if he wanted. Instead, Jungkook faltered half way. Eyes dancing with mischief as his whispered words of, “Good girl,” painted themselves against your lips.

You bit the side of your cheek. A weak attempt to fight the convulsion to respond like a brat. You wanted to nudge him, something - anything - to make him take back his words. Even though his voice caressed along your skin, making it ache to sin.

His thumb was tracing slowly against your lips. His eyes holding yours hostage; demanding you to meet him with the same intensity. This was how Jungkook chose to watch you unravel at his touch. It would stay like this with every touch of his hands or when his cock was buried deep inside you. He came to life as you unraveled underneath him. Devouring every last hitch in your breathing with a hungry mouth and coaxing hands.

This is how he chose to watch you that night, in the backseat of that cab, as your breath caught in your throat. Your body curving to press closer to him with your thighs parting just enough to give him access. A smirk tilted the corner of his mouth as his head tilted closer to you.

“You’re such a good girl for me.”

Jungkook’s breath caressed the words along your lips just before he claimed your mouth with his. The kiss only meant to silence you as his fingers moved past the thin lace covering your pussy. His fingers pushing past your folds and plunging deep inside you.

Your body responded instantly to his touch. Your body arched to be closer; chest pressed up against him as your hand found a perch at the nape of his neck. You wanted to stay quiet. You were in the backseat of a cab for fucks sake, but Jungkook wasn’t giving you an option for dignity.

His fingers set to work on guiding themselves deeper inside you. Each thrust from his wrist sent a moan panting against his lips. Your hips shamelessly working in time with each thrust from his wrists. The palm of his hand cupped your pussy as he added another finger, stretching you wider for him.

A squelching noise was beginning to fill the small cab. Jungkook’s hand now coated and slick with your juices as you rode the high he was sending you on.

You weren’t like this. You were a detective. A woman who didn’t consider being fingered in the backseat of a cab a good time. Your common sense was raging at you to pull away from his kiss. To pull on his wrist and remove his fingers from between your legs, but the feral part of you told common sense to fuck off.

A secret part of you loved the way he unraveled you in that backseat. His tongue diving between your lips to caress across yours. The kiss at first was nothing but intensity: fierce and no doubt leaving your lips swollen. But as Jungkook continued to bring you close and closer to your orgasm it began to change. His lips still refused to let yours go. Your moans and gasps were forced to be pressed against his mouth as you panted for air. The kiss grew into its own sensual being. No longer was it fast and brutal. His tongue now moved languidly over yours, as if tasting every inch of you he could find.

You no longer cared that the cabbie was probably watching. Well aware that Jungkook’s fingers changed tactics and were now curving up into your g-spot. Your hands were frantically trying to remove his clothes; desperate to get home so you could have him inside you. You didn’t have to pull away from Jungkook’s lips to know he was smiling.

He couldn’t hold you to him any longer when the pleasure spread into your belly and blossomed in a burst of stars. You came for him - moaning prayers of ‘oh fuck,” - and head bumping against the window. You came while Jungkook continued to work your orgasm until your legs quivered uncontrollably. His pupils blown out with lust while he watched you come undone at his touch.

You couldn’t remember getting out of the cab at his apartment. You could only remember once you were inside, bodies were colliding against the wall of the hallway in a frenzy to remove clothes. Something broke on your ascent to the bedroom and you almost tripped trying to take off your heels.

All you did remember was the feeling of Jungkook on top of you. The tip of his cock pressing against your opening before he fully sheathed himself inside you. Your pussy struggling to accommodate his length and the sweet pain of his cock stretching you, working your cunt to take every last inch of him. Jungkook fucked you hard enough you felt him in your crevice. Your body trembling as pain and pleasure meddled together until it was sending you over the brink. Even when you got on top, hips working him with each thrust, Jungkook still took control. His hands on your waist going at the pace he wanted, and it was always too deep - too much - and left you screaming out his name in worship.

When you woke up you weren’t surprised by the massive headache you’d obtained from drinking half the bar. Jungkook silently laying beside you, deep in sleep, had been a huge surprise.You weren’t good at the whole next morning, ‘where do we go from here?’ sort of thing.

You were steeling yourself for the awkward moments when he woke up. For when you would tell him it was a one time thing and no relationship was going to happen. Ever. Of course, it wasn’t what happened at all. The moment Jungkook woke up his, “Good morning,” came in the form of a grunt. His body rolling you over and pushing himself inside.

You weren’t sure how a relationship happened. At first, you pretended it was strictly for the sex. A way to blow off steam from long work hours and the horrors of finding the Devils’ leftovers. But somehow his staying over only until morning turned into staying for breakfast. It traveled from breakfast in the house to breakfast at diners and dinners at restaurants. Eventually, Jungkook stopped leaving all together from your apartment, because it was now one you shared.

There were times you tried to deny that you could afford to fall in love, especially with him. While you were sure over the course of months you’d told him small and big things about yourself, Jungkook remained a mystery. The moments when he told you about his day or himself were rare and raw. As if he were afraid to come apart at the seams of the man he’d built only to be seen as weak.

Glancing over at Jungkook’s empty side of the bed, you tried to keep the dread from growing. You tried to shove it down as you climbed inside the elevator, your fingers pressing for the lobby. Jungkook never told you exactly what he did for a living. You just knew it kept him up at odd hours and sometimes - rarely - he would be kept out at night.

You weren’t going to allow yourself to be consumed with worry that he wasn’t home. Your Chief called with big news and with any luck, it was one of your leads that led to this arrest. All the worry that began to brew inside you quickly dissipated and excitement took its place.

Two years. Two long - nightmarish - years and finally you had something tangible. You had one of the bastards who helped terrorize this city and every resident inside it. The thought you could finally get some reasoning for the carnage Namjoon and his men had caused made you practically giddy.

The drive down to the station was done in a daze. You were positive no red lights were run, but you couldn’t say with certainty you didn’t speed. You dashed up to the back door of the precinct and squeezed past an officer who was on his way out.

He mumbled a hello, but you couldn’t respond. Your mind was focused on reaching the third floor where the man was being held. Your legs quickly found the staircase and took each one two at a time. Your body jolted forward as you came to the third-floor landing, and you broke into a jog.

The Chief was standing near the end of the corridor. His hands crossed with a Manila folder with everything that the department was able to gather on whoever was inside. When he caught sight of you, he pushed himself off of the wall taking lumbering steps in your direction. A hand already extending out the file for you to grab from him the minute you were within arm's reach.

“Finally. I thought with something like this you would’ve gotten here faster.”

“Hello to you too, Chief,” you snapped back. You weren’t too worried about him. Your attention was on the folder now in your hands. Your thumb running along the edge to help flip it open. “Can you debrief me on what we know for now?”

His large body made it hard to walk side-by-side in the hallway, forcing you to walk a little behind him.

“It’s all there in front of you: read it,” he huffed.

“It’s difficult to walk and read at the same time. Stop being an ass and just tell me.”

“Fine. We caught him in the act so to speak. He’d just finished paying a jeweler who we suspected was helping launder diamonds for Namjoon out of the country. Not sure exactly what happened, but from what we gathered at the scene, whatever's been going on between Namjoon and the jeweler must have been one hell of a disagreement.” The two of you stopped in front of the interrogation room at the very end of the hall. Your body was tingling with the desire to go inside. “When we showed up the jeweler and his works were already dead, and he was leaving with the suitcase through the back door. Surprised the hair out of the newbie when he met him at the door.”

The big man let out a chuckle that sounded more like a cough: throaty and from the chest. Chief was really in a good mood, you noticed.

“You say he, sir. We got a name?”

“Sure, as fuck do: Jeon Jungkook. Namjoon’s enforcer and right-hand man.”

You were vaguely aware that his mouth was still moving. He was talking, making words, and yet you heard none of it. The sickening feeling you felt earlier looking at the empty side of his bed came back. This time you physically had to fight your body from being sick. The urge to release the late dinner you had before bed was creeping dangerously close to the surface.

You were struggling to focus on his frame. Barely able to register the Chief was looking at you with worry. His lips formed words you were sure asking if you were okay but you waved him off. With the file still in your hand, you placed your hands on your hips. The movement forcing your dark trench coat to flare out around you like a cap.

In. Out. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

He was talking to you still; throwing questions at you on repeat and the only questions you wanted answers too lied within the room to your right. You didn’t give him warning that you were leaving. You just walked up to the interrogation room door, your hand reaching out for the handle.

Whether you were ready for what greeted you on the other side of the door - you weren’t sure. You made a silent prayer to anyone listening for it not to be him on the other side of the door. You would’ve given anything for it to be anyone else. Anything.

With a shaky hand you turned the knob of the door and stepped inside.

Your back was against the headboard of the bed. All the pillows that had been lost to the floor during sex were now back. Each one hugging to your shape as Jungkook tried to invade the pillow cocoon you’d made by resting his head in your lap.

He’d let out another frustrated sigh and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face. Jungkook hated your pillow obsession.

“I swear, I come home only to find another pillow added to the bed.”

“Or, hear me out, you just think you see another one.”

“I’ve actually started counting,” he admitted. His eyes edged up to look up at you through his lashes. Your fingers that’d been playing in his sweaty hair came to a halt. Just so you could do your best to hold his stare - looking as innocent as possible. “Today when I left the house we had ten pillows and now we have eleven. How does that happen?”

“Magic.”

You smiled brightly down at him before placing a kiss down on his forehead. You went to move back up when Jungkook stopped you. His body lifting up from your lap to meet you halfway to press his lips to yours. It was a chaste kiss. Chaste compared to how you usually kissed and as brief as it was your body reacted to him instantly.

You’d learned early on in your relationship it didn’t matter if you were having a bad day. If you were angry at the world, him, or frustrated with work. Jungkook was able to combat your sadness with just his presence alone. In moments where he smiled so big it crinkled his nose and the times you’d find him dancing shirtless in the kitchen while making breakfast. Even through the soft moments you shared, Jungkook chose to remain an enigma.

Jungkook released his hold on your lips to fall back into your lap. He turned until a cheek rested on your thigh giving him a good enough view to look out your bedroom window. The dying light of the day painting the window seal in hazy oranges and reds.

“This feels like magic.”

He spoke softly into the soft skin of your thigh. Jungkook brought a lazy hand to your calf and began to lightly move his fingers up and down. Your face became hot and you weren’t sure why you were trying to hide it when he wasn’t even looking. He was too busy, lost in the darkness of his own thoughts to know you were watching him and the way the sunset lit up every inch of his features. You traced the flowers on his sleeve in an attempt to calm the frenzy of your heart.

“What flower is this?”

The minute your words left your lips, you wished you could take them back. Jungkook turned away from the window to briefly glance at his arm. Already knowing exactly what flower you meant.

“It’s my birth flower. A tiger flower.”

“It’s a beautiful flower.”

“It is, but I didn’t get it for that. I got it for its meaning.”

You waited for him to continue. The room swelled with silence as you resumed running your fingers through his hair, but Jungkook’s attention was turned back towards the window.

“What’s it mean?”

He didn’t respond right away. The only way you knew he heard you was the soft tilt of his head. His eyes glancing at you from the side. You weren’t trying to pressure him. You just wanted him to know you were willing to wait and listen.

“It means, ‘Love me.’”

Each word hit you in the chest making you think, for just a moment, your heart was breaking. Jungkook’s voice told you more than he probably meant too.

Your fingers completely stopped their movement through his hair and moved down to take hold of his chin. Gently, you tilted his head up by his chin and waited for his eyes to meet yours before you spoke.

“If it counts for anything, I love you, Jungkook.”

Stepping inside the room you were greeted with the immediate sight of him. He hadn’t turned to look at you yet. His hands held together on the cool steel table. His wrists bound with cuffs that were attached to the metal ring at the edge closest to him.

He was dressed neatly in all black. From his long jacket that sat draped along the back of his chair to the high turtleneck that decorated his torso. In the breakdown of what had been taken in for evidence, you noticed they’d listed black leather gloves that he was currently missing.

You found your bearings and finally took that final step forward. Your feet carrying you around the table to the only chair available inside the room. It was then that Jungkook’s eyes flicked through the slights in his hair and you were finally able to see the light splatter of blood that was speckled across his cheek.

That was when it hit home that this was real. This moment, inside this very room, where your axis was tipping and your world was violently shifting. He didn’t have the decency to look away; to be ashamed.

No. A part of you always knew that the darkness that you assumed haunted Jungkook wasn’t out of sadness. An inkling of something much more sinister lurked underneath his surface, but you overlooked it. Pretended it wasn’t there all because you broke your own rules. You didn’t keep your guard up and if you had, Jungkook had silently removed every wall you’d been able to build.

Jungkook acknowledged your presence with a smirk and all that anguish you felt at his betrayal was instantly replaced with rage.

“There’s my good girl.”

“Don’t call me that.”

You hated the way he used your pet name. You hated it more with the way your body betrayed you with your core aching to be touched. Jungkook usually called you that when he had your legs spread out on your kitchen counter; eating your pussy for breakfast. Or bent over the couch with him buried to the hilt inside you, pounding at a brutal pace, with a belt around your throat and his hand controlling the pressure.

Jungkook’s response at your request was a sickening chuckle. You wanted to vault over the table between you. Grab a hold of him and shake him, scream in his face, demanding why? What was the purpose of all those months? Did he know who you were that night at the bar? Was this nothing but a game to him?

The smug look on his face made you want to go feral. The betrayal and hurt were warring inside your gut fighting for dominance. Each one knocking the air from your lungs like a punch. Jungkook leaned forward placing his elbows on the table and used them to get to the middle. His eyes were wild as he searched your face. No doubt reading the split second it took for you to hide the emotions you felt.

“Why? Do you not want them to know that we’ve been fucking? How I came home to you almost every night after I committed crimes you could never catch me for.”

And there it was. The truth you were dreading.

How many times had he come home to the bed you shared after he murdered someone? After threatening someone’s life or burning down a business? Came home to help you make dinner and he’d just taken laundered money or helped run one of Namjoon’s brothels.

You dropped his folder with a thud on the table. You had to fold your arms across your middle just so you didn’t actually reach over the table and strangle him. He would love that. See you lose control just to prove his point.

“You seem to be focusing on the wrong things, Jungkook. You seem a bit bitter that you got caught.”

The eerie smile dropped off his face as he snarled, “They got lucky.”

“Or you were just cocky,” you shot back. “And that cockiness cost you.”

“I wouldn’t be talking about cock-y anything right now, sweetheart.”

“How about we cut the shit and get straight to it, hmm? You aren’t going anywhere, Jungkook. You’ve been apprehended and you will never, ever, see the light of day again.”

The smug smile returned as his head cocked to the side. Clearly, you were more amusing than anything else to him.

“You’re soooo angry that I was under your nose this whole time. You had suspicions, but you chose to ignore them.”

You tried to swallow past your heart that was now clamoring in your throat. The scream that had been building was threatening to break free. You were struggling to remain emotionless. From the look on Jungkook’s face, you were failing miserably. You knew what he was going to say and you didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want something you’d told him in the moment to be used against you like the fool you felt you were.

“We both know why you ignored them, y/n. It’s because you lo-“

“If you finish that sentence I promise you I’ll punch your teeth down your throat.”

His reply came in the form of a wide toothy grin that lit his entire face up. The idea excited him and made him look psychotically attractive with the dried blood on his cheeks.

“You won’t get the chance even if I did.”

“What are you talking about?” You snapped.

He just answered you with that wicked smile. You were getting tired of the games. Your thoughts working on how to get past all the personal to the real matter at hand. You were considering how to work around it when the alarms in the room began to go off.

The alarm was shrill and pulsing. The sound hammered over and over inside your skull until you were sure it was going to explode. You glanced back at the two-way mirror and then to the door. You expected at any minute for someone to come barreling in to ask about what Jungkook said or to tell you the alarm was a false alarm. You were willing to bet it was until you started hearing shouting further down the hall. The sounds of running feet and jingling keys crept through the door.

You wanted to call and ask what was going on, but you hadn’t grabbed a radio and when the shouting got louder you found yourself back on your feet.

“Did you really think Namjoon and the other Devils’ wouldn’t come for me?”

Jungkook spoke to you like he was scolding a child. Your mouth snapped open, ready to retaliate, when the sound of an explosion sounded all around you. The alarms in the building were blaring like crazy. The next explosion sounded in the building and your arms shot up protectively to cover your head and neck.

The sounds of screams were now pounding in your ears. Matching the scrambling boots and shouts to find cover. You dropped your arms down from your head and looked around. Outside was pure chaos, but nothing had touched inside the interrogation room yet. Which only meant one thing.

“They don’t know which room you’re in.”

Your words were soft. Spoken mostly as a verbal thought. The realization of it had you scrambling out of your chair. Your hands digging for the cuff keys Chief had dropped inside your pocket before you entered.

You had resolved to never get this close to him again. You wanted to pretend that being so near would cause your skin to crawl, but it was too soon. Everything is still fresh and open. Jungkook may have betrayed you in more ways than your brain could possibly fathom at this point. But the only thing your body felt, being this close to him, was desire.

“What are you doing?”

Jungkook was staring up at you with amusement. His gaze set on your face and no doubt finding the humor in the way your jaw clenched at having to press this close up against him.

“If they don’t know what room that means I have a chance to take you somewhere else. Somewhere safe.”

“You’re freeing me?” One eyebrow curled up towards his hairline. The amusement was still heavy in his tone, but underneath was he…hopeful?

A snort of laughter was your only reply as you continued to work on the chain that held his cuffs in place.

“No, Jungkook, I'm not freeing you. I’m making sure you end up where you belong.”

“And where is that, exactly?” He snapped.

The amusement had fallen from him and was replaced with the look of someone deadly. Someone you didn’t know. The change was swift and almost had you taking a step back from him. This was the real Jungkook. The enforcer, Chief called him. Looking at him you couldn’t agree with a more fitting title for the fierce man that looked up at you.

“In prison.”

You weren’t sure how you found the courage to reply or to meet the fury in his eyes. The second your words registered you watched a spark ignite in his eyes and a snarl bare his teeth. This time your body did give a jolt in surprise. You went to move back from him, but Jungkook’s hands were on your arms gripping you right. Refusing to let go.

“No. I belong with you and you belong with me.”

You were shaking your head struggling to free yourself from having to hear him. His words cut deep and dug into your soul. How stupid of him to not realize it didn’t matter how you felt. How he felt. You knew who he was now and nothing could change that. Nothing should be able to change that.

“No,” you gasped.

You didn’t know when you started crying. All you knew was that your eyes were stinging with unshed tears. As much as you fought to hold them in, you knew it was just a matter of time before you lost.

“Yes! You know it as much as I do. All these months we’ve been together. Deep down, in your gut, you knew all along who I was.”

“That’s impossible! I’m not fuckin psychic!”

“No. You’re a detective and a good one at that. You’re not dumb, y/n.” You were shaking your head vigorously like it would be enough to drown out every word he spoke. The grip on your arms felt constricting and yet, you didn’t pull away. “We belong together. You know it.”

The rage at his words, or yourself for allowing him to talk and for you to listen, was building up. You were going to scream. It felt like you were going to open your mouth to do so when another explosion went off.

This one was closer than the others. Close enough that it shattered the glass off the two-way mirror and sent it flying like shrapnel into the room. You were still stunned by the explosion, your body stuck in shock, but Jungkook was already moving.

A hand reached out to grab the edge of the interrogation table. He flipped it over with ease and grabbed you just as another explosion sounded. He didn’t grab you quick enough. You didn’t have to touch your head right away to know it was bleeding. You’d felt the debris of something - a chunk of concrete, plywood, or glass - hit the backside of your head. Your vision was now doubled and cloudy. The words being said around you sounded like they were speaking through cotton balls.

Vaguely, you became aware that there were other men in the room now. All of them dressed in black with decorated hockey masks that sat on top of ski masks. One of them was bending down, bolt cutters in his hands, and made quick work of Jungkook’s cuffs just as Namjoon entered the room.

He walked through the hole the explosion created, framed by billowing smoke and flames. Namjoon appeared completely untouched. Exactly like the Devil himself.

You tried to go for your side arm but someone stopped you. A boot kicking you back that was met with a savage snarl as Jungkook launched himself at your attacker. The darkness around your vision was winning. No matter what you told yourself, you weren’t going to be able to fight passing out. Your eyes fluttered over to the sight of Jungkook. His fist had wrapped his handcuffs around his knuckles and was smashing repeatedly into the mask of the man who’d kicked you.

“That’s enough, Jungkook.” Namjoon’s baritone was rich and deep. It didn’t surprise you that it went with one of the most notorious mob king’s that ever resided in this city. “We need to leave. Now. We’ll talk about your lack of tact when we get home.”

“I’m not leaving without her.”

Namjoon turned to him. His eyes followed as Jungkook threw down the bloodstained cuffs and moved towards you. You wanted to say something - tried to say something - but all that came out was mumble words and a whimper.

“You know you can’t bring her, Jungkook.”

“I’ll say this one more time, Joon. I’m not leaving here. Not without her.”

Irritation rippled across Namjoon’s features and his jaw clenched tight. You could tell he was thinking with his eyes roaming down to look you over. Finally noticing the state that you were in. His tongue rolled around in his cheek before he looked back at Jungkook. His frustration only made his forehead crease further.

“Fuck it. Hurry up and grab her.”

Jungkook didn’t even wait for Namjoon to finish his sentence. He pushed the tossed over table farther away making it easier for him to move down and scoop you up into his arms. The sudden movement caused your world to spin and it wouldn’t stop. Squinting your eyes you nestled your forehead against his shoulder trying to make your head stop spinning. It wasn’t working.

A whimper escaped you as Jungkook started moving forward. The crumbling department was only something you were able to imagine as you refused to look. No matter how hard you shut your eyes, however, it wouldn’t stop the sounds of men yelling for backup and others in pain. The pops of bullets leaving the chambers and the clamoring of feet to escape.

“I’ve got you, my love,” Jungkook hummed against your cheek. “I’ve always got you.”

If you were stronger you would’ve clamored out of his arms and moved away. You would spit curses at him and inform him that he was delusional. You would never be his any longer, but before the blackness overtook you a tiny voice reminded you that you were a liar.

You would always be his.

Omg, that tension between them has me on the edge of my seat already... Can't freaking wait for this fanfic – it seems like an epic storyline with well-built backgrounds & setups for both sides. My body's ready sh*t!!! 😍❤❤

run to you | series teaser

posting date ↠ winter 2021

pairing ↠ jeon jungkook x reader

genre ↠ gang AU, forbidden love AU — enemies to lovers (angst, fluff, smut).

18+ | series warnings (potential spoilers) ↠ drinking, swearing, recurring (sometimes detailed) violence, bullying (not to reader), use of knives, multiple detailed injuries, character death, explicit sexual content.

teaser word count ↠ 810

summary ↠ You’re supposed to hate him. Your family history tells you that much, as well as the ongoing volatile feud between both your older brothers. But why is it that when Jeon Jungkook makes himself known to you, you can’t bring yourself to hate him?

or

There’s only one thing in this world that scares you — one man and his name is Jeon Junghyun. Ironically, the man you somehow fall in love with just happens to be his younger brother.

A/N. this series may still take a while but I wanted to post something for Jungkook’s birthday so here we are! :) the taglist is open if you want to be added :) thank you in advance for your patience <3

Keep reading

pick & roll | LA Lakers - one shot (jjk)

point guard | jeon jungkook

♛ genre: friends with benefits, brother’s bestfriend (ft. kim namjoon) | heavy angst, smut

♛ summary: being one of the most popular players in the nba, jungkook takes absolutely no shit from anybody. he could give a fuck about the press, what people think about him, serious relationships. it’s a personal hell getting wrapped up with jeon jungkook— and you can’t help but fall into the same trap as every other woman who crosses paths with him. the more you fall, the more you realize that you will never be able to change a man who doesn’t want to change his ways.

♛ pairing: reader x nba player!jjk, fuckboy!jjk

♛ words: 19.2k

♛ warnings: buckle in cause you’re in for a treat 🤧 this is going to be messy and it’s intended to be that messy sorry lol, tried to make this as relatable as possible by drawing from personal experiences and sprinkling them in 🥲, tattooed jungkook but no piercings cause nba rules 😅 cussing/mature language, special appearances by lakers dj & stanley + clippers jay, subtle hints of namjoon’s fic through oc 👀, there’s one mention of taehyung in here haha, lots of flashback scenes (indicated), alcohol consumption, intoxication, club scenes, dancing, protected + unprotected sex, rough sex, squirting, head game on 100 (oral m. & f. receiving), gagging, multiple orgasms, light spit play, breast play, marking, making out, grinding, ass smacking, fingering/clit play, praising, some dirty talk, use of pet names (like baby, princess, babygirl), erotic asphyxiation, toxic, manipulative relationship shit **(pls heed with caution)**, accusations, rumors, crying, yelling, physical altercation, jungkook is just a selfish dick on a power trip

♛ one-shot playlist: met him last night - demi lovato & ariana // start a riot - duckwrth & shaboozey // act up - rich brian & earthgang // toxic - kehlani // nights like this (live) - kehlani

“Fuck— that’s it right there, baby girl— shit.” Jungkook breathily moans as his hand is locked onto the back of your head, pretty lips wrapped around his length. He cocks your head back and forth, keeping the tip of his cock knocking at the back of your throat, waiting until he feels you gag before releasing. “Look at you.” He smirks, amused by the thick saliva trail that connects his tip to your bottom lip. He sees the tears staining your cheeks, eyes still full of lust and begging for more of him. “Tell me you can take more, baby.”

Which, he’ll gladly give to you since you’re sitting so prettily on your knees for him.

Keep reading

Do any of you guys have any fic Recs similar to “cruel intentions” by explicit-tae? @explicit-tae

I just started reading it and I love it so much and would love any recs!! Even if they’re Just slightly similar!!

can i request something about getting into an argument with bf jungkook ?

Sorry for the wait, love! I couldn’t decide how I wanted to approach this (silly vs serious, etc.) so now I’m just winging it! I hope this is okay??

cw: alcohol mention, couple fighting, repeated use of the word “fuck” and its derivatives, angst w/ fluffy ending.

also- I have no idea what the word count is but it feels excessive for a drabble?? lol sorry 🫠

You weren’t quick to anger. Truly, you weren’t. In fact, you were patient and forgiving - to a fault. When something didn’t go your way, or when someone said something upsetting, you took a deep breath and let it go. You didn’t hold grudges; didn’t dwell. You didn’t keep score. But this one stuck in your teeth, and it hurt.

He knew how important this was to you. He knew exactly how many times before you’d played it cool, let the disappointment go rather than let it fester. You constantly excused him for how busy he was, and you understood that there were just some things he couldn’t show up for. You didn’t hold it over his head that he couldn’t be as present as either of you wanted him to be.

So, when he cleared his schedule and promised you he’d be at your firm’s happy hour - joining you in celebrating your promotion - you were elated. Your associates could finally meet the man you’d been prattling on about for two years. They’d see the real-life version of the person in all your framed photos. And he’d get to know all the people you had to spend most of your waking hours with. But they didn’t; he didn’t.

Seething in your seat, you ruminated on the fact that this was his idea in the first place. He drove you to your office that morning. He wanted you to let loose after hours, and when the night was over, he wanted drive your tipsy ass home. But now, your tipsy ass was crying on a city bus because he couldn’t be bothered to keep his promise.

Your bitterness swept you up like a wave and carried you - from the bus stop, across two blocks, to your apartment - even after the heel of your left pump snapped on a particularly cracked patch of sidewalk. When you hobbled over the threshold into your foyer, it was bone-deep anger that kept you from bursting into tears; and too-high adrenaline that carried you on aching feet.

You tore up the hallway and hung a right into your bedroom. There, sleeping sideways on the bed with his trouser-clad legs dangling off the edge, was Jungkook. His tie - untied, more accurately - looped around his neck, underneath the chin nestled into his shoulder. He’d gotten ready and then - somehow - he never made it out the door.

For reasons you couldn’t articulate, this fact made it all worse. So close.

“Are you kidding?” You snapped, scaring him awake. His bleary eyes tried to focus on you, but you were bent in half, hopping on one foot as you tried to undo the ankle strap of your busted shoe.

His horrified eyes dropped from your mascara-stained face to that of his watch. Immediately, he muttered, “Fuck. Shit! Baby, I’m so s-“

Having successfully released your ankle from the death trap it was held hostage by, you whipped your heel against the ground. You stood on one stocking-covered foot to address the other pump. You cut him off - mid-sentence, at the knees.

“No, I am not your baby tonight. I am the girl who just made partner - who got stood up in front of the people who made her partner - who then had to wobble home alone!”

He was shocked by your tone, and frankly, so were you. He’d never seen you angry because you didn’t get angry. The two of you had never fought before, either. Trivial arguments, sure - but nothing a calm conversation couldn’t fix. Nothing like this.

He raised his hands, silently begging you not to shoot, “I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry, okay? I am. I fucked up - and I know I fucked up - but I was up all night working so I could take the night off. I guess I was more tired than -“

“Then go back to sleep, Jungkook,” the look in your eyes was nuclear but your voice was eerily soft. You could’ve leveled Gyeonggi in its entirety when you tacked on, “On the couch.”

Without another word, he shot to his feet. Lips pursed and eyes wild, he stalked off out of the bedroom. You shucked off your blazer and threw yourself onto the bed - mattress still warm from the weight of his body. Face first in a pillow, your eyes screwed shut. You swallowed the frustrated scream you wanted so badly to let loose.

After several moments of tense silence, there was an elongated, muffled scraping sound, and then a tremendous clatter in the doorway. Your head snapped to determine the source of the noise.

With gritted teeth, there was Jungkook - pushing the chaise from your living room into your bedroom as if it weighed nothing at all. And he didn’t stop pushing until that stupid little sofa was crammed up against his side of the bed.

That bastard.

If you weren’t so mad at him, you might’ve conceded that this was impressive. Typical. Lovely, even - how insistent he was on sleeping next to you that he found a loophole in the most Jungkook way imaginable.

Ignoring your shocked expression, he slumped down onto the cushions, onto his back, and knotted his arms over his chest. Simultaneously, you rolled over; unintentionally mirroring his posture. Both glowering up at the ceiling, jaws clenched.

He sounded so angry when he said it, you almost missed what he said.

“I’m so fucking proud of you.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye to find him doing the same. Expressions still set in stone, body language communicating one word - impasse. You said nothing; you didn’t know where to start.

“You deserve to be celebrated, and you sure as fuck don’t deserve any of what you got instead.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

“And I swear to god, I will spend the rest of my life showing up for you.”

You swallowed hard, wanting nothing more than the end of this ugly evening. Weapons down, white flags up. His face softened when yours did.

“Baby,” you started slowly, watching a spark of hope ignite in the dark of his eyes.

Just as cautiously, he replied, “Yes?”

“Put the couch back,” you sniffed. After a pregnant pause, you finally finished, “And then come to bed.”

This serious is so good!! Felt all the feels in this one lol

lovefool [1/6] (jjk)

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook × Reader

Genre: angst, fluff (sort of), smut (right at the beginning and some more towards the end of the beginning but none after that!)

Summary: Your boyfriend’s pretty girl best friend keeps hogging up your alone time with him.

Word count: 4k - this story will have around 3 or 4 parts. (six parts + drabbles)

Warnings: IDK how to write smut ok so yes pretty wild of me to base my entire story on it, oc is very insecure and jealous, oc and yuna are passive aggressive towards each other and jungkook is trying his best, also, long platinum blonde haired tattoo artist jungkook w his beautiful sleeve tattoo.

Note: please note that this is one of my first attempts at fan fiction writing and it’s not very polished. i will be editing it in the near future, some scenes are rushed and i have not managed to fill in the gaps yet. the plot remains the same but i’ll definitely add more dialogue. thanks for reading luvs! It’s edited!

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

Keep reading

Silver Moon Ch. 9

Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS       Relationship: Jeon Jungkook/OC

Words: 6,390     Chapters: 9/__        Language: English      Rating: Explicit        Warnings: Past trauma, oc is an orphan, violence, slow burn but the smut will hit hard, corny hybrid tropes, masturbation, explicit sexual language, mutual pining, messy (I will probably add to this list as I write)        Category: M/F

author: Weichei Stubentiger

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37537594/chapters/93691681

Story Summary:  Hybrids are hardly the biggest part of Alina’s life. In fact, she tries her best to ignore anything hybrid-related. She is content to study for her entrance exam to grad school and try to live as innocuously as possible. But the events of her past will com back to haunt her when she becomes indebted to a hybrid named Jungkook. Their lives have become inextricably intertwined, but will they be able to trust each other? Will they be able to stand with each other in order to survive?

prev / next

materslist

Note: SMUT. See end notes for more details. Enjoy!

Chapter 9

Jungkook had been acting oddly for a few days. Half the time it felt like he was avoiding her, the other half he was on her side like glue. He’d been increasingly quiet, too, which was what worried her the most. 

After a while Alina had asked him if everything was ok, but he’d just told her he was fine and avoided her for a few hours. She didn’t want to make him feel cornered or interrogated, so she didn’t press him. But the behavior continued all week. If anything it had gotten worse, so Alina had decided she’d call Jimin and see if he knew anything. She didn’t like going behind Jungkook’s back, but he was really starting to worry her.

She figured the best time to do it would be on her way home from work, since Jungkook wouldn’t be around to hear her checking up on him.

She stepped off her train and onto the platform, getting out her phone and selecting Jimin’s contact.

It only rang twice before he picked up. 

“Hey Alina, what’s up?”

She could hear his smile through the phone, which put her slightly at ease. That meant there probably hadn’t been a falling out between Jungkook and any of the guys, which had seemed very unlikely anyway.

“Nothing really,” Alina said, “I’m just calling to ask you - I’m a little worried about Jungkook. Has he been acting differently to you?”

“I saw him the other day and he seemed fine. A little quiet maybe.”

“Yeah…it’s probably nothing.”

“Has he been doing anything else around you?” Jimin asked.

“I don’t know. He’ll kind of avoid me, or at least that’s how it feels. I thought maybe he just wanted space. We live in pretty close quarters. But then he’ll want to be right with me. He’s been sleeping badly, too. He’ll ask for my spare blanket before we go to bed, then he’ll push everything off of himself throughout the night.”

The line was quit for a second, and Alina was about to ask him if he was still there when Jimin said, “I’m not sure…do you want me to come by later tonight to check on him?”

“Maybe that’s a good idea. I don’t want him to feel like he’s doing something wrong or anything, he’s not. But maybe you can get him to tell you if everything’s ok.”

“Alright, no problem. I won’t be able to get there for a while, though. I’m teaching a beginner class for the next hour.”

“Ok, don’t rush. I’m close to home, anyway. See you later.”

It was almost five o’clock when Alina stepped through her front door. She knew Mina and Courtney were both working late tonight, so she and Jungkook were on their own for dinner. 

She walked into the kitchen, but she didn’t see Jungkook. He wasn’t in the living room either. 

“Jungkook?” She called out, wondering if he’d gone out.

Maybe he was taking a nap. He didn’t usually do that, but it was possible. She headed towards her room and opened the door quietly, just in case. 

Whatever she’d expected, it wasn’t what she saw. 

Afficher davantage

Break Up With Your Girlfriend, I’m Bored [Teaser]

note: this is a future one shot, not a multi-chapter, but it is apart of my series, than u, next, which you can find ☞ here. feel free to comment or message me if you’d like to be on a tag list for when it’s posted . Also if you can please like & reblog as it’d be very much appreciated 😭🤍

estimated!publish date: september 25-28, 2020

♤ pairing: jungkook/reader

♤ genre: 1920′s au, burlesque/clubsinger!reader, infidelity au , major angst, smut.

♤ rating: mature

♤ word count: 700+

♤ warnings:  infidelity/affair plays a big role in story so please do not read if the topic makes you feel uncomfortable, [hint: y/n is not the one getting cheated on LOL]

♤ series masterlist

♤ summary: Once you were on that stage you were someone completely different, the manifestation of someone’s secret desire, becoming whatever image had of you in their head. Some days you were the innocent girl next door, other days the good girl gone wild, but the days he came you became what you had been for the past year, the other woman. 

━ ❝  You got me some type of way, ain’t used to feelin’ this way. I do not know what to say, but I know I shouldn’t think about it. Took one fuckin’ look at your face, now I wanna know how you taste… You can say I’m hatin’ if you want to, but I only hate on her 'cause I want you.❞

Jungkook sighs, flipping to the next document on his desk, a night full of work ahead of him. New clients needed to be accommodated, considering everyone wanted a piece of the pie that was the New York Stock Exchange.

Tonight it was raining, a downpour in fact, the prelude to an up and coming storm. The thunder already beginning to cry out from the sky above, the trees around his home writhing and flailing against his window.

He gets up from his desk to close the window as well as shut the blinds, turning on his shaded glass lamp, providing the dim lighting he always liked working in. The muffled sound of the rain was comforting as well.

Catherine was out to God knows where, mumbling something about a girl’s night out before walking out, which of course he didn’t mind, but it was getting quite late. He shrugs off the concern, instead continuing with his work.

He hears footsteps coming up the stairs, ah she must be back already, he thinks to himself. Suddenly he hears his office door open, “So you’re back already,” he states, not bothering to look up from his paperwork.

He’s met with silence.

When he looks up he’s taken back by the woman standing in front of him. Because there she was, hair and clothes drenched in water, mascara running down her eyes, and a haunting empty look in her eyes.

He quickly gets up, eyebrows furrowing in worry, “Why are you—Where—What happened?” he finally manages to ask, but she remains silent, staring off at the bookcase behind his desk.

“Catherine you’re soaking! I thought you went to Amelia’s?” he chides, but again she remains silent, until slowly she moves her pupils to his direction.

The two stare at each other for what seems like forever, words not having to be spoken in order to know what exactly was happening. He turns to break the gaze, the feeling of shame that he had been pushing off for so long bubbling in his stomach.

A low staggered laugh comes out of her mouth, steadily becoming louder and louder, booming across the room until tears are now falling from the corners of her eyes, as she goes into a fit of hysteria until finally she begins to sob. “I thought I could live with it,” she whispers in between, “I thought things were going to end at some point between the two of you—”

“Catherine,” he starts, but she’s quick to cut him off.

“But it never did!” she laughs, making a small motion to her head, “and it was there like an itch at the back of my mind all the time,” she lets out a breath in disbelief, “and I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Catherine, it’s not what you think it is,” he sighs, causing her to only laugh.

“She loves you, you know that right?” she bitterly scoffs, recalling your words from earlier, “And God help me, because I think you might love her too,” she finally cries out, finally saying the thought she’d kept buried in her mind for so long out loud. The feeling of suffocation finally coming to an end.

“For a wife to have to witness the entirety of her husband falling for another woman,” her voice trembles, “to have to witness the exact moment that you fell in love with her,” she whispers, vigorously shaking her head in denial,“ I don’t even wish that upon my worst enemy,” she lets out a choked sob.

All he could do is stare at her, no words at the tip of his tongue, nothing he could say or do to comfort her. “So,” she grimaces, as if fighting to get the words out of her mouth, but she needed to ask. She needed to hear him say it.

“Do you love her?”

He remains silent. He can’t even bring himself to deny it, she thinks to herself. You could hear pin drop fall at how silent the room was.

“I’m going to bed,” she whispers, the feeling of defeat physically draining her as she walks out of the room leaving Jungkook to stand there by himself, the thunderstorm outside finally coming to an end.

Break Up With Your Girlfriend, I’m Bored (m.)

♤ pairing: jungkook/reader

♤ genre: 1920′s au, burlesque/clubsinger!reader, infidelity au , angst, smut.

♤ rating: mature

♤ word count: 17,000+

♤ warnings: infidelity/affair [plays a big role in story so please do not read if the topic makes you feel uncomfortable, hint: y/n is not the one getting cheated on LOL], A LOT of angst lol the smut is just an add on to the story basically, explicit language, cigar smoking, degradation, pet names, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (2), dirty talk, unprotected sex, rough sex, sub!reader, teasing dom!jungkook, slight dry humping, mirror sex, fingering, hair pulling, cockwarming, marking, edging, nipple/breast worship, pussy eating, spanking, light choking, possession kink.

♤ summary: Once you were on that stage you were someone completely different, the manifestation of someone’s secret desire, becoming whatever image had of you in their head. Some days you were the innocent girl next door, other days the good girl gone wild, but the days he came you became what you had been for the past year, the other woman.

━ ❝  You got me some type of way, ain’t used to feelin’ this way. I do not know what to say, but I know I shouldn’t think about it. Took one fuckin’ look at your face, now I wanna know how you taste… You can say I’m hatin’ if you want to, but I only hate on her 'cause I want you. .❞

♤ thank u next series masterlist

♤ author’s note: i got the idea to make this story 20’s themed after rewatching 2 Chainz ft Ariana Grande’s which you can watch ☞ here, while the storyline itself is loosely inspired by her song break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored. You can also reference this video ☞ here to see what I reference in terms of style when I say burlesque dancer and what y/n and her coworkers encapsulate because I personally hate the flapper era style LOL, i’m more of a hollywood glam person, so finding this video was a godsend.  

Also fun fact, the Hollywood sign was originally built reading “Hollywoodland” in 1923, which is why it’s referred to as that in this story, it wasn’t until 1949 that “land” was removed. and because i’m setting this story in the mid to late 1920’s, Hollywood is barely establishing its reputation as the land of dreams and heartbreak & alcohol was illegal in the 20’s which is why i refer to Joon’s job as “illegal” lol .

comment, send an anon, like, reblog, and most importantly enjoy! 🤍 

“She’s the girl of your dreams, the sugar to your spice, give a warm welcome to Miss Lola de Ville,” Al’s voice booms across the club. Peeping your head out the curtains, you try your best not to be seen as you scan the audience, until finally you spot what you’re looking for. Immediately you feel your heart skip a beat.

Quickly giddying your way back to Mina’s dressing room, you could feel the anticipation and joy bubbling in your stomach, “He’s here tonight,” you sing, leaning against her door frame, watching her as she did her makeup.

She’s quick to roll her eyes, “Oh when isn’t he,” she says, fixing her lipstick, “he sure does awfully love your performances it seems,” a blush appears on your cheeks, “Is she with him tonight?” she queries, you quietly nod your head no. “And what song are you performing tonight little miss Y/N?” she asks, changing the topic once she sees your face of uncomfort.  

Immediately your eyes light up, “Al’s been playing these songs by some man named Louis Armstrong on the record player all week, and oh how I love his voice, and the lyrics he sings!” you gush.

“Oh tell me about it, he’s going to have to buy himself another vinyl if he keeps playing it the amount of times he does already, it’ll be all scratched up by the end of the week,” she pessimistically says, causing you to shrug. It wasn’t like Al didn’t have the money to buy as many as he’d like, this club of his was bringing him bank.  

“God am I ready to go home,” she complains, taking off the shiny silver ring on her left ring finger and placing it in its case, as men didn’t like giving tips to a woman with a ring on stage.

“How’s the wedding planning going along?” you ask, Mina lets out a dramatic sigh in response.

“Oh you know Joon, he doesn’t like the whole planning aspect of it, so most of it has been in my hands,” she chuckles, “but I know he’s excited, he’s just as much of a romantic as me.”

Namjoon, Mina’s long time fiancé, was not only the illegal bartender of the club you two worked in, but a long time friend of yours, the two of you going back long before he had ever met Mina. In fact it was he who got you this job to begin with, something you’d forever be in his debt for.

Namjoon of course didn’t mind that Mina had to take off her ring because he not only trusted, but respected Mina’s job. Honestly it would’ve been hypocritical for him to be anything but supportive, considering he met her here when he first started working at the club a couple of years ago. At the end of the day he was secure about his relationship, and the person she was coming home to after a night of performing was him and only him.

“Y/N what are you doing here, you go on in five!” a voice interrupts, you turn to see Al with his hands on his hips in a dramatized fashion.

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll be out there right now,” you gulp, grabbing some perfume from Mina’s desk and quickly spritzing it on yourself., “How do I look?” you ask.

“You look good as always,” Mina reassures, despite only glancing at you for no less than a second, “hey and once you’re done tell Joon to have a cocktail ready for me by the time I’m done performing,” you nod, making your way out to the main stage.

“She’s got a voice sent from the heavens above, almost as smooth as a Friday’s glass of whiskey, she can sing, she can dance, she can act, she’s a triple threat of course! And to add to it all, she’s got the face of a doll, give a warm welcome for little miss y/n!”

Slowly, the curtains are pulled open, as you signal to the jazz band to start, another day, another dollar to make. You hear the cheers of men as you slowly take off your fur-made shoulder wrap, teasing the audience in what was hidden underneath. With every holler your ego only grows, knowing that all eyes were on you, including his.

Glancing in his direction, you find him staring at you in the same concentrated, sultry gaze he always did, purposely pouting your lips as you sang. You knew the power you held, the effect you had on those around you. Once you were on that stage you were someone completely different, the manifestation of someone’s secret desire, becoming whatever image they wanted you to be in their head, a figment of their imagination come to life so to speak.

Some days you were the innocent girl next door, other days the good girl gone wild, but the days he came you became what you had been for the past year, the other woman.

Unstrapping the leather of your heel, your feet immediately feel relief, as you kick off the black t-strap heels you had been wearing all night under your vanity desk. Though you loved wearing heels, the constant foot blisters caused by the cheap leather were definitely a downside.

Making yourself comfortable in your seat, you dump out the money from your tip jar, a smile appearing on your lips as you noticed the twenty dollar bill in the pile. Eagerly you grab it, excitedly crisping the sturdy green bill.

“They must've really liked that performance today,” a voice whispers to your ear from behind, catching you by surprise. You were used to him making a knock of some sort. Immediately you feel the tingle of goosebumps now prickling onto your skin, the giddy feeling in your stomach never getting old.

Slowly, he begins to give small pecks on your neck, every kiss lingering longer than the last. His lips then begin to softly suckle on your neck, causing you to push your head back in pleasure.

“Jungkook,” you complain, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“Too bad that tip wasn’t from me,” he shades, clear annoyance coming from his tone. In your distracted state, he snatches the bill from your hands, causing you to immediately get up from your seat in an effort to get it back.

“Hey,” you childishly groan, trying to reach his arm which was now lifted in the air. Seeing that there was no use in trying, you give up. He then relaxes his arm, and begins to inspect the bill, your eyebrow raising at his action.

“What are you—”

He scoffs, rolls his eyes, and suddenly rips the bill into shreds. Eyes widening in shock, you  place a hand over your mouth. But as quick as the shock came, it was replaced by anger even quicker, “What the hell is wrong with you!” you shout, eyebrows now furrowed.

“It was a counterfeit, a fake,” he reiterates, leaving you slightly taken aback, but you try your best not to give a reaction.

“And,” you stutter, “And how are you so sure about that, huh?” you cross your arms, still upset at how sudden his actions were.

“Because this,” he pulls out a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket, “is a real one,” he attempts to hand the bill to you, but is met with resistance on your side.

Pushing his hand away, you scowl, “I don’t want your money, I’ve told you that already,” you huff, feeling a slight tug at your heartstrings, your ego now bruised at both the fact that the bill was fake and that Jungkook felt compelled to replace it for you.

He hugs you from behind, rocking both you and him back and forth, “I know, I know,” he chuckles, “but seeing the way those men kept looking at you,” he pauses, now scowling, “I guess you can say I don’t like what’s mine being spoiled by others,” he ponders causing you to roll your eyes, still in his embrace nonetheless.

“It’s my job,” you jest, “not like I’m sleeping with them,” you shade, a sly smirk now on your face, as you feel his hardened member now rubbing against your ass, a clear sign that you weren’t the only feeling aroused.

“Feisty, huh?” he laughs, his right hand from behind slowly making its way around your neck, softly gripping your smooth skin. Soon enough, he begins to kiss you, your lips parting to let his tongue slowly go down further, the grip on your neck becoming tighter as the kiss deepens.

With his other free hand, he maneuvers under your robe, teasingly grazing over your thigh, almost as if waiting for the green light, “Just say the words,” he whispers into your ear, his fingers now tugging at the hem of your robe.

Without saying anything, you begin to untie it, the silk material dropping to the floor in a matter of seconds, now only in your bra and underwear, you whisper in return, “Fuck me,” and with that he’s quick to release the grip on your neck, turning you to face him. His kisses become sloppy as he signals for you to jump.

Now holding you up by the thighs, you link your arms around his neck as he places you on top of the vanity desk, careful to not push any of your perfume bottles, “I bet those men could only dream of having you like this,” he growls in between kisses, “Take off the bra,” he demands, his fingers now playing with the lace of your underwear.

With no second thought, you unclip the back of your bra, throwing it somewhere across your dressing room, desperate to have him inside you already. With one hand rubbing circles over the lace, the other rolls your hardened nipples in between his fingers, a smirk now plastered onto his face as he hears you trying to suppress your moans.

“Please Jungkook,” you whine, your thighs tightly wrapped against his waist, grinding yourself against his pants. Ignoring you, he sucks on the underside of your jaw, then to your neck, slowly making his way downward, until finally he’s softly sucking on your nipple.

“God that feels so good,” you pant, throwing your head back in complete utter bliss as he marks you, your hand gently tugging at his hair as he elicits the sweetest moans out of your mouth.

“All mine,” he groans, “I’m gonna fuck you so good, gonna have creaming all over my fucking cock,” continuing to suck on your nipples, his finger now slips under your underwear, placing them inbetween your folds, “Already this wet, kitten?” he mocks, “Those men out there have no idea how much of a whore you are,” his fingers begin to move up and down your clit, doing nothing but teasing you.

“Please Jungkook,” your voice shakes, the need to feel something, anything, inside you becoming much too overwhelming. Slowly he sinks his index finger into your pussy, pumping it in and out of you until gradually he slips in another, your wetness making it easy to do so. You arch your back against the vanity’s mirror in pleasure, “Mm, faster Jungkook,” you manage to breathe out, his two fingers soaked with your wetness.

“So tight,” he mutters his pace now quickening at your command, “Look at you, already wanting to cum,” he mocks, “How do you expect to take my cock huh?” he mumbles into your neck, ready to add a third finger, “Answer me,” he demands, bringing his other hand to your neck once again.

“Because,” you’re unable to reply, now feeling your release coming to light,  “I’m boutta—” you whimper, with every movement you feel it coming closer and closer until suddenly he slows his pace, very much denying you from your release only causing you to let out a cry in complaint, the pressure that had built up immediately slowing down, “Jungkook,” you whine.

“You didn’t answer me,” he teases, pulling your underwear off, now having you completely undressed. Getting on his knees, he parts your legs wide open, your pussy being nothing but a glorious sight to him. Gently he swipes his finger across your sensitive folds, knowing that your senses were heightened from the denial, “Such a pretty pussy,” he teases, now rubbing circles onto your clit, “I bet you taste so good,” he pulls his finger away, suckling on the wetness that coated his finger, “so it does,” he says.

“Use your tongue,” you needily whisper, not sure at how long you’d be able to handle all the teasing, “please,” you cry, hoping that he’d do something soon. He drops wet, messy, kisses along your thighs, your skin now prickling in anticipation. He was purposely taking his time, finding pleasure at your squirming. A part of you just wants to push his head for your selfish reasons, but you knew that it’d get you nowhere because at the end of the day he was in full control, and you would just have to deal with the pleasurable torture.

With every kiss, suckle, and lick, you could practically feel yourself trembling, “Please Jungkook,” you beg, but he only hums in response, continuing with his wicked game of torture. Unable to control yourself, you let go of his hair, now maneuvering your hand to your pussy in a desperate effort to soothe the ache that had long been built up.

But just as you’re about to begin to pleasure yourself, his own reflexes are quick to grab you by the hand, roughly pushing it down onto the desk in an effort to stop you, “Mm mm mm,” he coos, “A slut like you doesn’t get to be in control, remember that kitten,” he sings, making a nodding motion with his finger.

Soon enough, you feel his warm tongue on your clit, licking and sucking through your folds, his index finger rubbing at your clit all at the same time. “Oh my God, right there,” you moan, the tension you felt immediately being released as he indulged himself further into your folds, pumping his finger back into your pussy once more, this time rubbing at your g-spot, your folds completely soaked with both your fluids and his saliva. Your orgasm once again was building up and as a result your pussy clenched around his fingers, your muscles going limp as you knew it was coming closer.

“You’re gonna cum for me, kitten?” you vigorously nod your head in response, physically squirming at his words, “Cum for me,” he breathes out, the euphoric feeling overcoming you, as you felt the waves of your orgasm hit, leg trembling at the sensation. Immediately he begins to plant soft kisses among your thighs, softly caressing you as you came down from your high.

He gets up from his knees, beginning to gently place kisses onto your cheek, “What a good girl,” he teases, going in to kiss you. You place your hand at the back of his head as you deepen the kiss, transforming the kiss to nothing but tongue and saliva. The two of you now making out on the vanity once again, his hardened cock rubbing against your bare pussy, the fabric of his pants acting as the only barrier in between.

He groans once you playfully you graze your other hand over the fabric, the idea of having his cock filling you up only exciting you, “I need you to fuck me,” you whisper into his ear, arousal dripping from every word as you played with the waistband of his pants.

“Is that what you want, kitten?” he asks, now unbuttoning his pants, and pulling out his thick, large cock, “Such a little whore, singing and dancing for those men,” he seethes, the look of jealousy presently on his face, “if only they could hear the way you squirm for me,” he chuckles, “just how needy and desperate you become for my cock,” you gasp as you feel his head now teasing the slit of your entrance, “How I have you moaning my name,” he whispers, suckling at the nip of your neck.  

“Put it in already,” you whine, ready to have his cock thrusting in and out of you, and so with that he slowly pushes his head which was covered in pre-cum into your hole, your wetness from earlier making it easy for him to slip it in, while your hot walls take him in with ease just as the many nights before, but still the pressure of the stretch was something you’d never get used to.

“So fucking tight,” he grunts, impusivley pulling your hair from the back as his girth pushed it’s way inside of you, taking a moment to allow the two of you to adjust, his cock now buried deep within you, “Tell me when you’re ready Y/N,” he sincerely says, having seen the momentary look of discomfort on your face.

Nodding once you were ready, he begins to slowly thrust, the items you had on the vanity beginning to jump at the sudden movement of the desk. Your moans and the squelching sound from the movement of his cock and your wetness now fill the room, his pace quickening with every deep thrust.

“Oh fuck—” you cry, his own grunts and moans mixing with yours.

“This is my pussy, you got that?” all you can do is nod in response, his thrust getting harder and sloppier, until suddenly he stops, “Turn around and bend over the desk,” he commands, pulling out and pumping his girth with his hand, not wanting to lose momentum.

It was shocking really, the countless number of times you two have fucked in between show sets, prior, and after, and each and every time it felt as good and exciting as the first time.

Eagerly you turn around, laying your stomach flat on top of the vanity’s surface, your dripping soaked pussy in full view for him, the cold air of the room along with the lack of fullfiness in your cunt causing you to let out a small whine, desperate to have Jungkook’s cock warm you up again, “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs to himself, looking at your face from the reflection in the mirror as he began to stuff your pussy with his cock once again.

He begins to thrust again, each one feeling fuller than the last, “Fuck Jungkook,” you cry, his cock now hitting your g-spot in this position, “Faster baby,” the friction from his steady rythym now wasn’t enough, as you felt another orgasm incoming.

“Faster?” he asks, “You said it,” he laughs, now pounding against your walls at a pace that was so overwhelming, you were almost sure that anyone within ten yards could probably hear you. “You nasty little slut, just look at yourself,” he groans, yanking you by the hair and forcing you to look at the reflection of yourself in the mirror in front of you, “I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like this,” he quickens his his pace, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, “And only me, you got that?” all you could do was moan in response, resulting in a hard spank to your ass, “Answer me!” he groans, as you grip onto the corners of your vanity’s desk, his cock pounding harder and harder within your walls every passing second.  

“Mmhm only you Jungkook!” you cry, placing your hand on the mirror, trying not to lose balance of yourself, “I’m so close,” you manage to breathe out, the tight feeling in your abdomen signaling that you were going to cum any moment, his breathy moans also telling you that he was close to bottoming out as well.

He tilts down, the sounds of his panting now directly behind your ear, “That’s my girl,” he whispers, pushing your hair away from your neck to give you a small kiss. Seconds later, your vision goes white as you feel the final rush of stimulation washing over you, as he quickly pulls out and pumps his own release onto your back. The two of you now catching your breath, completely exhausted.

He buttons his pants back up, grabbing your things from the floor as well as a towel from your rack, gently cleaning you up as you remain in your position, too tired to even stand. “Come on,” he whispers, gently pulling you from behind so that he could pick you up, your body always feeling completely limp post-orgasm, add the fact that this was post-work as well, you had every reason to be tired.

Placing you on the small love-seat couch you had in your dressing room, which was generally used for—nevermind that, he helps dress you, guiding your legs through the underwear holes, laughing at your groans whenever you’d miss. “Come on, stop being lazy,” he teases, only resulting in another groan from you. You cross your arms again and pout like a kid, a huge grin now on his face. Gently, he cups your face, playfully squishing your cheeks in the process, just like he always does, only causing you to roll your eyes.

“Why do you always do that?” you manage to say, his hands still squeezing the life out of your cheeks.

“Because it’s cute,” he gives you a peck on the lips before finally letting them go, allowing you to place your robe back on, “You’re cute,” he nuzzles into your neck, the two of you to falling back on the couch, as he then begins to tickle you.

“Stop,” you begin to hysterically laugh, his fingers prancing around the sides of your stomach, “Jun—Jungkook stop,” you breathe out, a toothy grin on his face as he attempted to avoid your playful kicks.

To any other person, this loving moment between you two would cause nothing of the suspicion, hell, they’d probably even mistake the golden band on his finger as the sacrament of your holy matrimony. It was moments like these where you questioned where your relationship with the married man stood, where you’d ask yourself at what point had the line blurred between only doing this for fun and actually having feelings?

Slowly Jungkook stops tickling you once he notices that your laughs had begun to die down, and your face had become serious,“Hey what’s wrong?” he asks with genuine concern in his voice.

You shake your head, not wanting to dwell on your thoughts too much, “It’s nothing really,” you give him a small smile.  Momentarily he stares at you, seeming unconvinced by your answer.

“Let’s go home?” you stare at him wide-eyed, home?

“Wait what?”

“I asked if you’d like me to take you home?” he chuckles, though you knew you must’ve heard him wrong, the sinking feeling in your heart hurt just as much, a part of you secretly hoping that you were wrong.

“Oh um,” you respond, “no it’s fine Jungkook, I’ll just um,” you run a hand through your hair, “I’ll just ask Joon, I think he should still be cleaning up, and Mina is probably bored waiting,” you force a laugh. He furrows his eyebrows, unsure about leaving you here, but relents nonetheless.

“Hm, okay then,” he says, giving you a departing kiss on the cheek, “I’ll see you soon, alright?” you nod your head, the forced smile on your face quickly dropping the moment he walks out the door.  

“You sure are loud, Namjoon was complaining about wanting ear muffs while he cleans,” Mina laughs, now entering your dressing room, Jungkook having left several minutes ago. She expects you to laugh like you usually do, or even throw a smart remark in return, but instead you remain silent, staring at your reflection in the vanity’s mirror. Your eyes were puffy from crying, because in those minutes that Jungkook had left, a feeling of shame had washed over you. “Hey, what’s wrong kiddo?” she walks towards you, quickly grabbing a tissue from the tissue box you had on your desk, beginning to wipe the run down mascara from your cheeks, softly running her other hand through your hair in an effort to comfort you.

Sniffling, you shake your head in refusal to talk, “Hey, come on, you know you can tell me anything,” she reassures, “It’s better to let things out, than to have it build up,” she frowns, the sight of seeing you cry breaking her heart.

“I,” you struggle to say what’s on your mind, “I love him,” you whisper, voice breaking as you finally said what you’d long known. For a second she stares at you, her faint gasp quickly hidden as she continues to comfort you.

“Oh Y/N,” she sighs, sad that she is unable to find the words that could make this all better. If only Namjoon was—

“What’s going on he—” Namjoon furrows his eyebrows as he sees the sight of his fianceé comforting his long time friend, who now had her face buried in her hands.

“I love him so much, and everytime he comes here I just wanna tell him,” you pause, “I wanna tell him everytime he walks out that door that he could be with me, that I want him to love me,” you cry, “that the only reason I keep seeing him is because I hope one day he just magically wakes up and walks through that door to tell me that he wants to be with me and only me, not her.”

You push your hair back in distress, “And you have to understand I never meant for things to go this far,” you quietly mumble, “and at first it was just a one time thing, nothing but a tiny sin, I thought I wouldn’t ever see him again, but now it’s become so much more,” you sigh, “And I know what I’m doing is wrong, but I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t feel anything.”

Namjoon walks over to you, crouching down so that you could face him, “Hey, we’re not here to judge you,” he firmly states, gently pulling your hands away from your face so that you could make eye contact with him, “you have every right to feel the way you do, you hear me?” slowly you nod your head in response as he lets out a chuckle, “Hell, we wouldn’t be human if we didn’t act selfishly here and there,” he pauses, “but what you do need to do is tell him because you’re right, you can’t keep doing this, or else you’ll be stuck in the same old place forever, and we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” he flashes you his famous old dimpled smile, Mina rubbing small circles on your shoulder as an extra layer of comfort.

“I’m scared,” you whisper. It was true, you were, because what if he didn’t feel the same way? What if he told you that there was no way he’d ever leave her for you? That the feeling of love which had only been growing stronger for the past year would remain as nothing more than a fantasy.

“You’ll never know till you say something,” he gives you a small comforting smile, “Come on let’s get you home little miss Y/N,” he pats your lap, getting up from his crouched position, your Friday night coming to its end.

Jungkook opens the door to his home, genuinely tired from the long week, simply ready to go to bed. “So, where were you?” he hears a voice from behind say. Sighing, he turns around to face his wife of three years, who was currently dressed in her overseas designed silk-purple nightgown, one of the many she owned.

His eyes glance around the room, refusing to make eye contact, “I went out to get drinks with Jimin, you know... the usual for a Friday night,” he wonders how long she’s been waiting for him, honestly it had been a while since she pulled something like this.

“All the bars close at ten, it’s twelve,” she tries to firmly state, but instead her voice cracks, “I have Amelia calling me telling me that Jimin’s gotten hom—”

“Catherine,” he begins, his voice hoarse at how tired he was, “Can we just talk about this some other day? I’m just really tired and,” he shakes his head, combing his hand through his hair, hoping she’d understand.

Catherine momentarily stares at him in silence, an emotionless look on her face before turning and going back upstairs to their bedroom. Jungkook decides to serve himself a glass of whiskey before going to bed in hopes of getting rid of the heavy guilty feeling that weighed over him, and that maybe tonight it’d just be best to sleep on the couch.

“Blue or Red?” you dangle the two outfits from their hangers in front of Jungkook, who was relaxing on your dressing room’s couch, exhausted from the sex you two just had, “I’ve personally been told blue is more of my color, but I feel like red makes me pop out a whole bunch more, and well I need those tips,” you ramble, “So what do you think?”

It had been about two weeks since you last saw him, and since your little breakdown, and though you had taken Namjoon’s words into consideration, the courage to actually go through with it just wasn’t there. Instead you had decided that you needed to wait for the right moment to tell him, and though you weren’t exactly sure when that moment would be, you were definitely sure that when it did happen, maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out how you pictured it to be.

He stretches his arms, releasing a yawn, “Mm,” he hums, “how bout none and you call it a day,” he winks, resulting in a playful hit to the shoulder from you. You gasp as he pulls you to sit on his lap, “And what song are you singing tonight kitten?” he asks.

“Mm I don’t know yet,” you laugh, “might just come up with something last minute,” you joke, but secretly you always did want to venture into composing and writing your own music, weekly newspapers citing that across the country in Hollywoodland, people who could sing, dance, and act, could achieve overnight worldwide fame.

Hollywoodland was a dream, an unrealistic one of course, but a dream nonetheless. Who knows, maybe one day you could make it big out there, but for now you had to focus on where you were locally “famous” : Al’s Melody Noir.

“And become the next Hollywoodland star?” he teases, quickly squishing your cheek before you could knock his hand away.

You shrug, “Hey, you never know,” you smile, “someone in the crowd might just hand me a one way ticket,” you say causing him to roll his eyes and playfully tighten the grip he had on your waist.

“Why not audition for Broadway or something,” he pouts his lips, “they can always use a star like you,” he sings.

“Because I don’t want to be a Broadway star,” you say, “I want to be a Hollywood star,” you grin, “I mean no offense to those Broadway stars, they’re talented and all, but I’m telling you right now that in 50 years from now, the names that are going to be remembered will be the ones who are on that big screen,” Jungkook quietly hums in response, no longer wanting to entertain this topic.

Grabbing his wrist, you glance at his wrist watch, “Ooo, I’m about to go on,” you yelp, quickly getting up from his lap and making any final touch ups to your hair, he gets up as well now getting ready to head out. “Are you sure you can’t stay to see me perform tonight?” you plead, the doe eyed look on your face making it hard for him to say no, but he had to, it was the sole reason why he came to see you before your time slot.

“You know I can’t doll,” he gives you a small kiss on the lips, “I got a whole bunch of paperwork to catch up on tonight,” he sighs, he wasn’t lying either. The stock market was booming as of late, especially because of the newly profound industrial boom, being a stockbroker right now was not only a stressful job but one where any little mistake could cost absolutely everything, “Next time I’ll be there, I promise,” he plants another kiss to your forehead, “And don’t put on too much of a show for em!” he shouts as he walks out.

You look at yourself one last time in the mirror, “Let’s do this,” you whisper, ready to make that stage yours once again.

“Oh you should've seen us having to push that car down the road, whoever this Henry Ford man is needs to learn how to make his cars weight lighter,” Mina complains, you and Namjoon laughing as the three of you were now together at the bar, Namjoon still on the clock of course.

Despite it being a rainy day, tonight was a full house, the club full of upper New York socialites occasionally some of them with their wives and girlfriends. Gambling tables were surrounded by both business men and mafia members. It was clubs like Al’s where you’d see the two different worlds collide and openly interact with one another, but honestly most of these men went hand and hand with each other. Not like there really was that much of a difference between them.

Mina puffs out the smoke from her cigar, “Look, I even chipped my nail,” she flaunts her left hand, Namjoon laughs at her obvious attempt to show off her shiny engagement ring.

“Hey don’t go flaunting it around too much,” he playfully says, but both you and Mina knew that behind that joking tone, he was definitely being serious.

She leans over the front bar rail, dramatically puckering her lips, to which he of course places his lips on, “Hey, get a room!” you complain, “Al sees you two doing that on the clock and he’ll have you two written up!” you laugh.

“Hey I’m on my break,” she clarifies, “And so are you, and if I’m looking at the clock correctly you go on in forty, and you have yet to change.”

Getting up from the bar stool, you dramatically groan in annoyance, now pursing your lips, “Didn’t realize you wanted me gone so badly.”

“Ah you know I’m just joking Y/N,” she passes you her glass of whiskey, “A shot for good luck,” she winks, and so reluctantly you slug down the remainder of her drink, the burning sensation not at all feeling pleasant, as your nose immediately wrinkled at its taste.

“I don’t know how you two drink this stuff,” you say, a childish look of disgust on your face, “it’s banned for a reason you know.”

“You get used to it,” Namjoon comments, “Now get going! Because of all this small talk, you only got thirty minutes left, and we all know how long you take!” he scolds, making a motion with his hand for you to start walking.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” you roll your eyes, now making your way back to your dressing room.

“Remember to show em what you’re made of Miss Hollywoodland,” Mina shouts, as you now shook your head in laughter as you left.

You walk towards your dressing room, still laughing to yourself at Mina’s little comment. Tonight was already a good night, your tips seeing a slight increase after your new performance which of course you’d have to count singularly later to get exact numbers. But for now all you wanted to simply do was change, get your last performance over with, catch a cab, and go to bed. The sound of the rain pouring outside would be nothing but relaxing once you got home, that was for sure.

“Mina, Mina, Mina,—” you mumble to yourself, grabbing the handle to your dressing room, ready to just kick off your heels. But what you see in front of you once you open the door immediately confuses you, as someone was occupying your vanity chair. It wasn’t until you looked at the reflection of the mirror that the heavy feeling weighing on your chest dropped down to your stomach. Because there she was sitting with her legs crossed, fixing her crimson colored lipstick in the mirror.

Standing there in silence, your eyes study her body language. In a way she seemed eerily relaxed, her shoulders weren’t tensed like yours, and her breathing seemed steady. The complete opposite of you.

The tension in the room was so thick, you were unsure of what to say because really what was there for you to say? You knew why she was here, she knew why she was here, so then why did everything feel so uneasy, like a bubbling bottle ready to pop off at any moment.

You want her to scream, to tell you off, to do something that you would expect from her, but instead she hums a tune, continuing to fix her lipstick, not once making eye contact with you, until finally she breaks her silence. A quiet, sly, chuckle coming from her lips.

“You know when I first met Jungkook I remember my heart feeling as if it was going to leap out of my chest,” she calmly shares, “Our respective families had introduced the two of us to one another at some horse racing event in New Orleans, my mother pulling me to the side to tell me that he was an up and coming stockbroker, not that it mattered anyway, I had already been swept off my feet from the moment I laid my eyes on him,” she scoffs at recalling the memory, “and you know I’d like to think that just for that one day he felt the same thing I had felt for him.”

She pauses, hazily looking at her reflection in the mirror, still not having glanced in your direction. “We got married a couple months later, bought our first home here in New York, and every morning I’d make him his cup of coffee and kiss him off for work. I remember thinking about just how perfect my life had come out to be. I was buying custom dresses from Europe, and having my pearls imported from the southern China sea, everything a girl could dream of,” she looks down at the ring placed on her left index finger, shining as bright as ever, “I remember bragging to my friends about my perfect life, and they would tell me that all I needed was the kids,” she laughs, “The other housewives would gossip to me about husbands cheating on their wives’ and I would think to myself how Jungkook would never do that to me, that he loves me too much do something like that.”

“But what I had failed to realize was that I was always viewing things from my perspective,” she shakes her head, almost as if disappointed with herself, “I guess it’s due to the way I was raised, I mean I was a spoiled child who grew up in a wealthy family, never once did I see things from the perspective of others,” she comments, “because maybe if I had I would’ve realized that my husband had quickly fallen out of love with me, or hell he may have never been in love with me to begin with,” the lurching feeling of guilt resurfaces itself from the pits of your stomach, the need to vomit almost excruciating, “but I didn’t,” she bitterly scoffs.

“And so when a friend of mine and her husband invited us to some underground new club in town that was getting all kinds of reviews from the drinks, to the dancers, and the triple threat of a star who could sing, dance, and act. I thought sure, why not? We had gone to many different clubs before where there’d be dancers who walked around with nothing but tiny little stickers across their nipples, and not once did I have to worry about his eyes straying too far,” she finally makes eye contact with you through the reflection of the mirror, “until he saw you that night.”

Getting up from your seat, her heels clack on the wooden floor as she makes her way towards you. Her calm demeanor reminding you of a snake ready to bite at any moment, “I don’t know how you two started off, or who initiated it first because God I honestly stopped trying to figure it out a long time ago,” she pauses, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to prevent herself from breaking down, “At first I thought you were going to be nothing but a phase, something temporary, something he was just doing out of compulsion, that it could’ve been anyone that he was going to commit adultery with.”

She stares at you, her eyes watery, a pool of emotions found in her eyes, “So then when I found myself having to go to that damn club every week, just to,” her voice finally cracks, the pristine glass cup that she was finally breaking, “Just to have to see him stare at you with those eyes every night to the point where he wouldn’t even tell me to come anymore, he’d be going out in the middle of the night just to see you in that damn club for God’s sake!” she cries, her face now red at her lash out.

You stare at her wide-eyed, frozen in place as she’s only inches away from you, an intense chill going down your spine.

“He’s,” she pauses, “He’s my husband,” her voice trembles in hysteria, “My husband,” she repeats, as if trying to reassure herself.

Finally, you manage to stutter something out, “I—I didn’t know at—”

“First?” she scoffs, “Is that the excuse you’re going to give me? What about the second time? Or the third? And the fourth and every other time afterward, huh? All those times you’d spot him in the crowd with me only being a couple of feet away from him, or did you just block me out of your mind so you could sleep at night? Is that it?” she yells. “You just couldn’t do it, huh? You just couldn’t stay away from him, like the dirty tramp you are,” she spat, looking at you with nothing but disgust, “Well say something goddammit! Instead of looking at me with that stupid look on your face!” her voice shakes.

“I never meant for it to go this far,” you whisper, lowering your head in shame, “You have to believe me.”

“I don’t have to believe anything from the likes of someone like you,” she snaps. The heavy feeling on your chest only weighs harder as you realized you needed to tell her the truth, the truth on what you really felt. Slowly you raise your gaze to meet hers, the lump in your throat fighting against the words that were about to come out of your mouth.

“I love hi—”

The sound of the crack of skin contacting skin echoes off the walls, a deafening silence immediately following afterward. As if time was frozen in its place. She slowly looks at her trembling hand which was now vibrating in a pain that etched from the center of her palm to the tip of her fingertips, it’s bright red appearance matching the new welt on your face. You stare at her wide eyed, hand now clutching cheek in pain, no possible words articulating in your head.  

The look on her face is one that’ll haunt you to your grave, it’s the look of someone you had first-hand in breaking. The tears that were currently gracefully falling from her eyes weren’t from a place of sorrow, but the buildup of anger and pain.

She should've felt some kind of remorse. But she didn't. Not one organ in her body could produce a gland of guilt for her actions because at the end of the day this was the least you deserved. She glances at the mark she’s left on your cheek, bitterly scoffing, not because it was big or anything but because it was in fact a cut. A small one where her wedding ring had caught you, a permanent scar that’ll remind you every morning when you look in the mirror of what you’d done. And she hoped, no, she wanted you to feel shame whenever you looked at it.

“You stay away from my husband,” she pleads demands, quickly grabbing her bag from your vanity, and rushing her way out, leaving you there to reflect on everything that just happened.

Jungkook sighs, flipping to the next document on his desk, a night full of work ahead of him. New clients needed to be accommodated, considering everyone wanted a piece of the pie that was the New York Stock Exchange.

Tonight it was raining, a downpour in fact, the prelude to an up and coming storm. The thunder already beginning to cry out from the sky above, the trees around his home writhing and flailing against his window.

Getting up from his desk, he closes up the window as well as shutting the blinds, turning on his shaded glass lamp which provided the dim lighting he always liked working in. The muffled sound of the rain comforting as well.

Catherine was out to God knows where, mumbling something about a girl’s night out before walking out, which of course he didn’t mind, but it was getting quite late. He shrugs off the concern, instead continuing with his work.

Ah she must be back already, he thinks to himself, hearing footsteps coming up the stairs. Suddenly he hears his office door open, “So you’re back already,” he says, not bothering to look up from his paperwork.

He’s met with silence.

Looking up, he’s taken back by the woman standing in front of him. Because there she was, hair and clothes drenched in water along with mascara running down her eyes. A haunting empty look in her eyes.

Quickly he gets up, eyebrows furrowing in worry, “Why are you—Where—What happened?” he finally manages to ask, but she remains silent, staring off at the bookcase behind his desk.

“Catherine you’re soaking! I thought you went to Amelia’s?” he chides, but again she remains silent, until slowly she moves her pupils to his direction.

The two stare at each other for what seems like forever, words not having to be spoken in order to know what exactly was happening. He turns to break the gaze, the feeling of shame that he had been pushing off for so long bubbling in his stomach.

A low staggered laugh comes out of her mouth, steadily becoming louder and louder, booming across the room until tears are now falling from the corners of her eyes, as she goes into a fit of hysteria until finally she begins to sob. “I thought I could live with it,” she whispers in between, “I thought things were going to end at some point between the two of you—”

“Catherine,” he starts, but she’s quick to cut him off.

“But it never did!” she laughs, making a small motion to her head, “and it was there like an itch at the back of my mind all the time,” she lets out a breath in disbelief, “and I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Catherine, it’s not what you think it is,” he sighs, causing her to only laugh.

“She loves you, you know that right?” she bitterly scoffs, recalling your words from earlier, “And God help me, because I think you might love her too,” she finally cries out, finally saying the thought she’d kept buried in her mind for so long out loud. The feeling of suffocation finally coming to an end.

“For a wife to have to witness the entirety of her husband falling for another woman,” her voice trembles, “to have to witness the exact moment that you fell in love with her,” she whispers, vigorously shaking her head in denial,“ I don’t even wish that upon my worst enemy,” she lets out a choked sob.

All he could do is stare at her, no words at the tip of his tongue, nothing he could say or do to comfort her. “So,” she grimaces, as if fighting to get the words out of her mouth, but she needed to ask. She needed to hear him say it.

“Do you love her?”

He remains silent. He can’t even bring himself to deny it, she thinks to herself. You could hear a pin drop fall at how silent the room was.

“I’m going to bed,” she whispers, the feeling of defeat draining her as she walks out of the room leaving Jungkook to stand there by himself, the thunderstorm outside finally coming to an end.

“Al doesn’t pay me enough for this,” you groan, scrubbing the wood floors with your bristled brush. Tonight it was your turn to close up the club, and though Namjoon usually offered to stay and help you, he had sadly caught a cold, and so instead tonight you were stuck with Al himself to clean up, which of course meant you’d be stuck doing everything. He was already out front doing God knows what, most likely smoking a cigar or something.

It had been weeks since your encounter with Catherine, as well as your last visit from Jungkook, which you could only assume had to do with said situation. Honestly the whole situation had been anxiety inducing, having gone directly home after the whole ordeal, not bothering to say goodbye to Namjoon or Mina as you left, still stuck in the state of shock that you were in.

Even the usual taxi driver who normally drove you home after work was worried at your silence throughout the whole trip. Usually you kept him updated on the different things going on in the club, especially since he was always interested in, in his words, “innovations you young people are making.”

“She was dame, in love with a guy,” you continue to scrub the floor, now humming the song from a movie you had watched a couple a days ago,  “She stuck with him but didn’t know why,”  

“Everyone blamed her, Still they all named her,” you hear a familiar voice playfully sing, “True Blue Louuuuu,” Jungkook stretches out the final word, now standing in front of you, a warm smile on his face. He was dressed in his usual suit attire, his parted hair with no hair out of place only symbolizing his calm attitude for things.

Quickly getting up, you pat down your skirt of any possible dirt, “How did you—” Before you could even finish asking, your mind immediately answers the question for you, “Al,” you let out a laugh, that man will truly let anyone into his club.

“It’s not like he doesn’t recognize me by now,” he chuckles, opening his arms for embrace, which hesitantly you accept. Jungkook, taken aback by your reluctance, cups your face like he usually does and attempts to give you a pop kiss, which you quickly maneuver your way out of thus confirming something was wrong. “Hey,” he whines, pouting his lower lip.

Gently you push him off, picking up the bucket of dirty water from the floor, silently ignoring his antics, “Y/N,” he grabs your hand as you turn away from him.

Knowing there was nothing in this situation you could do but face him, you sigh, “What?” you harshly say, your attitude causing the dirty bucket of water to slip from your hands, “Ugh,” you groan, a headache now rising, “Look what you made me do,” you hiss.

He lifts his hands in his defence, “Hey, I didn’t make you do anything kitten,” your heart skips a beat at the pet name, but you’re quick to shrug the feeling off, huffing as you went to go get the mop from behind the bar stand, Jungkook only following. “I know you’re mad,” he begins, only raising a bitter laugh out of you.

You inhale a breath of fresh air, trying to keep your composure, “Me? Mad? No!” you narrow your eyes at him.

Laughing at your sarcasm, he responds, “And I understand why—”

You cut him off, “How could you possibly understand? You’re not the one who got slapped across the face,” you frown, clenching your jaw, “I even got a left with a scar because of it,” you angrily point to the small cut under your right eye, where her ring had caught you, “and this is my good side!” you throw in.  

“You can’t even notice it—”

“That’s not the point!”  you glare at him, “The point it, is that I can’t keep doing this,” you exhale loudly, “It’s-it’s” you stutter, firmly pressing your lips together, “it’s wrong,” you finally admit to him. Catherine’s words echo in your head, the image of her sobbing in front of you still fresh in your mind, “and so I,” you hesitate to say the next words, but it was now or never, “I think you need to choose, me or her? Because we can’t keep doing this, and you can’t expect me to stay in this position.”  

“We’re getting a divorce.”

“For the rest of my life, because— wait what?” you bring your ramble to an immediate halt, unsure if you heard him correctly.

“We’re getting a divorce,” he firmly repeats, completely making eye contact you, not even a twitch of the brow to signal if he was lying or not, “it’s why I haven’t been coming for the past few weeks, been filing paperwork and all that other time consuming stuff,” the two of you stand there in silence, the words barely sinking in for you as you owlishly stare at the wall behind him, nothing but a blank expression on your face.  

This is what you wanted … you just hadn’t expected the answer to be dropped as a bombshell like this one. Was it wrong to feel … happy? Overjoyed? Excited? He’s choosing you, you tell yourself. He’s choosing you, you repeat to yourself. He’s choosing to try and have a future with you. “Earth to Y/N,” he waves his hand in front of you, bringing you back to reality.

You glance at the ring that’s haunted you since the day you met him, it’s emptiness being nothing but a marvelous sight, the corners of your lips slowly twitching upward. Jumping into his arms, you scatter his face with kisses, the sudden burst of energy you felt was a high you were sure you’d never feel again in your life.

“There’s my girl,” he mumbles into your ear, both his arms grabbing you to keep you steady. A part of you wants to ask him what happened, the itch to know more details almost excruciating, but instead you choose to enjoy the moment, deciding you’d ask him some other day. With this news, you’d have an eternal amount with him.

Gently, he places you down from his hold, “And I have news that’ll have you near passing out,” you quirk your brows, there was more? “So I think you might need to hold on to the bar or something,” he grins, the feeling of anticipation now creeping under your skin.

“Well get on with it,” you rush him, doubting that the grin on your face could become even bigger.

“The firm I work under throws these annual um…” he looks up, trying to find the right word for the event, “balls,” he smugly grins, “and well a lot of Broadway producers attend, who certainly have connections with people in Hollywoodland, and well let’s just say I pulled some strings and,” he dramatically pauses, building suspension, “you’ll be performing a set for them in a week from now, as my date of course.”

Your mouth hangs loose at his words, “No,” you say in complete bewilderment, feeling as if your head was in the clouds, but your feet were on the ground all at the same time, “What am I going to where? Sing? Oh my—” you ramble, “Jungkook I,” you stop yourself from continuing, instead pulling him another hug, the warmth you felt being in his arms being truly indescribable. Things were looking up, and you were definitely excited for what was to come for the two of you.

“So is it a yes?”

“Of course—”

“Not!” Amelia, Catherine’s long time friend and Jimin’s wife of two years, sneers, her teeth grinding at the mention of you, “This is not your fault Catherine! So don’t you dare say that,” she frowns, the two were currently strolling through her garden, Catherine finally admitting everything to her friend.

“I know it's not,” her heels clack against the cemented paveway, her hands softly grazing against the roses next to her, “but I keep asking myself,” she scoffs, “could this have been avoided?” Amelia’s who was already about to say something is stopped by Catherine, who raises her finger to signal that she could explain, “I mean I could’ve saved myself the trouble, leave the first sign there was of not even the affair, but the first sign of him just not loving me,” she chuckles, “I don’t know, I just keep trying to find answers to all my questions when really they’re all right there in front of me … I just refuse to face them,” she tugs at the rose petal she’d been grazing her fingers on for the last minute, watching it as it fell to the ground.

Amelia scowls at Catherine’s words, “Maybe if that whore of a woman learned how to respect marriages,” she snarls, unable to comprehend how Catherine could possibly be making excuses for you and Jungkook, “then this whole ordeal wouldn’t be happening. She’s going to get what’s coming to her one day.”

Loudly, Catherine exhales a breath of air, exhausted of going in circles with this conversation, honestly she didn’t expect any good advice from Amelia, she just needed an outlet to keep herself sane, “I expected to hate him,” Catherine shakes her head in dismay, “ No, I wanted to hate him, something to masquerade my hurt,” the nights of wishful thinking and crying in bed begin to cloud her mind, “It was like I was desperately waiting for the feeling to consume me, hoping the feeling would wash over me all at once,” she blankly stares at the roses in front of her, “the same way the ocean washes over a seashore at night, you know? But instead I was forced to slowly experience every raw feeling that stemmed from this situation.”

Coming to a halt, Catherine pulls out a cigar from her purse, signalling to Amelia that she needed a lighter, only causing her friend’s face to scrunch in confusion. Catherine rolls her eyes, “Why are you acting like you don’t smoke, Jimin isn’t even here,” she callously says, “Come on, I’m waiting,” she murmurs, the cigar in between her lips.  

Begrudgingly she pulls out her lighter, bringing the flame to the tip of the cigar, an exhale of smoke immediately following after, “There’s rumours these things are addicting,” Amelia mumbles, watching as Catherine inhales another puff.

“There’s also speculation in the New York Times that they can kill you, but you don’t see me believing everything I read now do you,” Catherine laughs, the two continuing their stroll, different things on both of their minds.

“Cross, loop, under the bridge. over the loop, and,” Jungkook hums the tune once made to remind himself how to tie his necktie, “secure,” he breathes out, running a hand through his hair as he didn’t exactly picture himself getting ready in his firm’s office building. But today had been a long day and he didn’t have the time to go back home and change, especially since he still had to go pick you up, and well anyone who knew you, knew that getting ready on time was not your forte.

Instead he decided that his black suit, and a color change of tie would suffice. It wasn’t like the two of you were going to be there for too long, your performance was at the near beginning, the opening act per say.

He was excited to see what you’d pick out to wear, your outfits never failing to put a smile on his face, not because most of the time they were over the top and extravagant, but simply because it was you. Had it been anyone else wearing the things you dressed in, and he was sure he would’ve never bothered to spare even a glance. Honestly you could walk out with nothing but your nightgown and he would still do nothing but worship the ground you walk on.

“Tonight is going to be a good night,” he whispers, glancing at his now empty ring finger. It was going to be the start to something n—

A soft knock on the door interrupts, “Didn’t think I’d find you here,” a voice says.

Jungkook steps away from his mirror, surprised to find Jimin here at such a late hour, “Oh I didn’t realize you were still in the building,” he chuckles, “Thought I was the only one who did overtime tonight,” he glances at his wrist watch, time was on the essence, “Well I’ll see you at the event tonight, Amelia’s going with you, right?” Jungkook grabs his suit jacket from his chair, ready to make his way downstairs to the parking lot.

“Yeah, in fact I think Catherine is at the house helping her get ready,” Jungkook awkwardly tenses at the mention of his wife, the air in the room becoming stiff.

“Oh well that’s nice,” Jungkook gives him a small smile, making his way to walk out the door, “Like I said I’ll see you over there, I should really get going, my date is probably already waiting for me—”

“Y/N right?” Jimin casually asks. Jungkook stops in his tracks, mentally sighing to himself.

“Yeah you guessed it,” he gives Jimin an awkward superficial smile, his body slightly rocking back and forth in annoyance. Something about this interaction felt … uneasy.

“Actually I wanted to talk to you about that…”

Jungkook cocks his head in confusion, “Talk about what,” putting no effort to hide his annoyance. Jimin remains silent, as if contemplating his next choice of words, “Jimin I don’t have all day,” he sighs. Whatever this was was better be good, he thinks to himself.

“I,” Jimin pulls out a folded piece of paper from his pocket, “I need to show you something.”

Fixing your bright red lipstick, you hear the footsteps of someone entering the room, “I’m almost ready Jungkook, I just need to make sure these pins stay in place and I should be good to go,” you ramble, “Oh I’m so excited Jungkook! I couldn’t sleep all night yesterday, just thinking about performing was making me anxious, and well I just want to say thank you, you know? I know I wouldn’t be people’s first choice when it comes to performing at such a prestigious event, especially considering what a lot of people think of people who work in jobs like mine, but,” you fumble with your words, “but, it’s just so,” you clap your hands together, “oh I just can’t explain it! And to be your date,” your eyes sparkle. Tonight was going to be the night. Tonight you were going to tell him.

“To finally be given an opportunity it’s just—I don’t think I can thank you enough,” you finally breathe out, the feeling of excitement completely radiating off of you as you place your earrings on.

You wait for Jungkook to reply, to shower you with kisses like he always does when he sees you, but instead you’re met with complete silence, his figure from the reflection of the mirror completely frozen. Quickly you turn around, nose now wrinkled in confusion, “Jungkook?” you uneasily ask, the young man you were so enamored with only staring at you with a hardened gaze, his expression unreadable.

“Jungkook, what’s wrong?” you ask again, your voice laced with concern, “Did something happen? Do I need to change my setlist? Cause I can easily do that, I mean a perf—”

“You’re not performing tonight,” he harshly interrupts, your face falling as you hear the annoyance drip from every word.

“Oh,” your skin pales, your voice failing to hide its disappointment, “Can I ask why?”

“Because I told the committee you’re not, I managed to find a replacement last minute,” your face crinkles in shock.

“Wait what?” What the hell was going on? Why would Jungkook do that? Did you do something? Your heart begins to thud against your chest, the tingling feeling in the soles of your feet quickly spreading all over your body, “Why—Why would … why would you do something like that?” your eyebrows furrow, the feeling of anger now rising from the pits of your stomach.

Jungkook chuckles before pulling out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, “You really had me fooled Y/N,” he purses his lips, trying his best to contain his anger, “I cannot believe I let things get this far with you,” his voice shakes, every word seething with anger.

“What the hell are you talking about?” you cry out, genuinely lost. Uncrumpling the piece of paper, he turns it towards your direction, “Am I supposed to know what that is?” you snap, your face becoming red at his vague comments.

“You know you could really stop with that whole stupid act of yours,” he spits, “Honestly I should’ve known better than to trust someone like you,” he lets out a dry laugh.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” you clench your fist.

“Well here take a look at it for yourself,” harshly, you snatch the letter from his hands, your eyes quickly skim through the contents of it. 

“You think I wrote this?” your eyes widen in shock, now getting up from your seat and handing the letter back to him.  

“I know you did,” he laughs, flailing his arms in the process, “Really Y/N? Jimin? Of all people? Did you really think it wouldn’t come back to me?” he almost sounds disgusted.

“But I didn’t! This isn’t even my handwriting!” tears of both frustration and anger begin to well in your eyes, “You have to believe me!” your voice booms across the room.

“I don’t have to believe shit!” he finally yells, the veins from his neck now popping out, “Your signature and name are written in these Y/N! You know how embarrassing this is?” he presses, “All because you can’t keep your fucking legs closed!” your mouth gapes in shock,  “And God I can only imagine the amount of men you’ve probably tried seducing, I’m just the idiot who fell for it all,” he laughs, “And you know I kept trying to tell myself that you wouldn’t do something like this, that you wouldn’t try seducing a married man,” his words drip with sarcasm, “But you have!”

Rapidly you try to blink your tears away, refusing to let him see you cry, “You don’t mean that,” you whisper, shaking your head at his words.

“But I do!” he bites back, “But you know what it's fine,” he knew the next words that were going to come out of his mouth were going to be a low blow. And in the back of his mind he knew he didn’t mean them, but he was angry, no, he was furious. He didn’t care what he had to say, he wanted you to feel just as hurt as he was, “it’s fine because I’ll be able to sleep at night knowing you’ll be stuck here for the rest of your life doing God knows what like the who—”

“Can you stop,” you try to scream, but instead your voice comes out hoarse, your lower lip trembling in sadness, “please,” you whisper, no longer being able to take any of this, “I didn’t write those letters,” you repeat, desperate for him to listen to you, “I know you have reason to believe Jimin, he’s your long time friend, I understand that, and I know my job doesn’t exactly have the best reputation,” you ramble with your words, heaving in between, “But I wouldn’t do this to you!”

“And why should I believe you?”

“Because I,” your voice shakes, “Because I’m in love with you,” you cry out, “Don’t you get it? In love,” you emphasize, moving your hands in frustration, “You think I would’ve kept this going for so long if I didn’t feel something for you?” He remains silent, “I fell in love with you, okay? You!” you scream , “The way you kiss me, the way you touch me,, the way you laugh at every corny joke I make, the way you reassure me about myself whenever I feel insecure, the way your eyes light up whenever you talk about something that fascinates you whether it be boring old stocks to future industrial revolutions,” you let out a choked sob, “or the way you have this compulsion to squeeze my cheeks every time you tease me, and I could go on and on.”

“You’re my person,” you whimper, the final plea in this tragic story.

He turns his gaze to the floor, refusing to look at you, “I was never yours to begin with,” he mutters, walking out of the room and slamming the door behind, leaving you to ask yourself, What. Just. Happened?

Leaning against the door frame, Catherine exhales whatever’s left of her cigar, butting the stub on the wall. “You know, I really don’t mind moving to my parent’s country townhouse,” she casually says, calmly watching her soon to be ex-husband pack his office belongings.

It had been two weeks since your argument with Jungkook, and though he couldn’t confidently say that you hadn’t been on his mind everyday since, he was sure he would be just fine. Of course, he had been sad the first couple of days, then the sadness had become anger once again, until finally he was where he was currently at. Numbness.

Distracting himself with loads of paperwork, working overtime, and being in the midst of a divorce was doing wonders. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if now at the age of twenty-two, greys hairs started to appear because of the overwhelming stress he had to deal with.

Bringing himself back to reality, he’s quick to reject Catherine’s idea, “No, it’s fine, you picked out this place to begin with,” he chuckles, “Hell, I still remember how excited you were about decorating and the effort you put into all of this,” he gives her a small apologetic smile, “it’s only right that you stay. Honestly, I don’t see why you wouldn’t, you did an amazing job with this place.”

“Still, you paid for this place, it’s under your name,” she responds, “This place is just too much of a—” she hesitates.

“Reminder,” Jungkook completes, now having stopped his packing. The two stand there in what couldn’t be described as an awkward silence, but one of understanding.

“A reminder of what we illusioned ourselves in,” she looks down at her ring finger, smiling at its empty sight, “it’s funny,” she laughs, “even before you started the affair, I used to look down at my ring, and for some reason I never did feel,” she pauses, “what’s the word,” she takes a couple of seconds to regain herself, “I never truly felt… happy,” she states, surprised at how such a simple word could mean so much, “but now I look at the sight of it being gone, and I feel relieved, in fact, I feel... free,” she reiterates, her eyes now watery.

“We were young and pressured, I didn’t even have a sense of my own identity yet, and I mean not that it’s any excuse for what you did,” she emphasizes, “but I’m sure you didn’t have one either, I guess we were just too busy trying to please our respective families,” she scoffs, a smile now on her face, “I still even get your birthday confused sometimes,” she jokes around, causing Jungkook to flash his toothy grin at her, “Never did I bother to learn the small details about you,” she inhales and exhales a deep breath, “but she did,” she says, breaking eye contact with Jungkook, not because she was mad or sad, but because she’d come to realize something.

“I was in love with the idea of you, the things you would buy me, the compliments I would get from everyone around me, the idea of being able to flaunt a perfect life, but I think, no, I know I was never in love with you,” she looks at Jungkook once again, tears now freely flowing from his eyes, a chapter in their life now coming to its end.

“I don’t hate you for what you did Jungkook,” she blinks her own tears away, personally tired of all the crying she’s done, “nor do I hate Y/N,” she says, for the first time saying your name, the name smoothly rolling off the tip of her tongue, no ill feeling behind it, “I just wish things could’ve been different, in terms of us realizing that we were just never meant to be,” she finishes off, the final wave finally washing over her. The feeling of acceptance.

Catherine slowly walks towards him, embracing the crying man into a hug, giving him a small heartfelt kiss to the cheek, “I really am sorry Catherine,” he whispers, the words being nothing but genuine.

“I know,” she whispers in return. Gently, she breaks from the hug, wiping the tears that brimmed her eyes, “Come on, you gotta finish your packing,” she says, rolling the sleeves of her robe, and making her way to his desk.

“It’s fine really,” he starts, but she’s quick to ignore him and begin her rummaging of his things. So instead of fighting against her help, he goes back to continuing with what he was doing, the two quietly organizing things, finally at peace.

“I think that’s the last of it,” Jungkook huffs, taping the final cardboard box of paperwork. The two step back and look at the empty room, feeling proud of their hard work, “Well I’m gonna go take this down,” Catherine nods in response, Jungkook now leaving the room.

Her eyes scan the room one last time, making sure nothing was getting left behind, until surprisingly, she does in fact catch something from the corner of her eye. The edge of a piece of paper below the wooden bookshelf sticking out, “That’s weird,” she mumbles to herself, surprised at how she failed to notice it earlier.

Crouching down, she picks up the torn piece of paper, her eyebrows now furrowing at its incompleteness, with only half of the whole sheet being there. She turns the direction of the paper to where there’s writing, her eyes widening at what she sees, “Oh no,” she whispers to herself, trying to think quick on her feet, “The trashcan,” she says to herself, quickly grabbing it and tossing the remnants onto the floor, her breathing now uneasy as she sat on the floor, beginning to uncrumple the pieces of torn paper, silently hoping what she was thinking was all some twisted joke.

With her burst of adrenaline she somehow reassembles the ripped letter, her stomach dropping at the sight of the complete version, completely ignoring the footsteps that were making their way up.

To Jimin,

I’ve had my eye on you for a while now, you should come backstage sometime for your own personal show, just like your friend. I’m sure he won’t mind. Honestly, I’ve been getting a little bored of him these days. And don’t worry, I don’t mind seeing that ring on your finger. You know where to find me…

XO, Y/N.

“Mr. Olsen seems to have gotten a new ca—” Jungkook stops dead in his tracks, immediately tensing at the sight in front of him, “Catherine what are—” Jungkook doesn’t continue with what he’s about to say, the sight of Catherine’s shocked face now confusing him more than ever.

“Oh Amelia, what did you do,” she quietly breathes out, her face now frozen in place, and her hand covering her mouth.  

“What?” Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow, “Amelia? What does Amelia have to do with—” his face immediately falls, his heart sinking at his realization.

“This,” Catherine stutters, “This is her handwriting,” she says, now looking up at Jungkook, whose face was in just as much as shock as hers, “I swear Jungkook, I didn’t know she’d do something like this,” Catherine rubs her temple, “Last time I saw her, she was bad mouthing Y/N but I didn’t she’d—” she shakes her head in dismay, “Jungkook, if I would’ve known I promise you I would’ve stopped her,” Catherine’s words sound like nothing but echoes in Jungkook’s head, his mind currently racing through a countless number of thoughts. His words from the last time he saw you now echoing in his head, the look on your face etching into his mind, oh how you kept denying the letter. The sudden pang of guilt, much too overwhelming.

“I know Catherine,” he whispers, but  all he could do was stare at the letter on the floor. And as if time was frozen, he slowly glances at the mantel clock, his heart now pounding.

8:15 PM.

You should be performing in a bit, he thinks. Immediately he switches gears, hurriedly grabbing the coat on his desk and placing it on, “I,” he stutters, a frenzy look on his face, “I have to go,” he says, quickly running out the door. The only thing he could do was hope he’d catch you on time.

“Oh look who's back, it seems I haven’t seen you in a while,” the sultry hostess purrs, “oh and that ring of yours is gone, trouble in paradise?” she pouts, guiding him to one of the tables. Politely he makes a motion to her, as if to say that he was fine, “Mm well if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, you know where to find me hun,” she winks, making her way back to the greeting area.

Jungkook, feeling as if he couldn’t breathe, adjusts his tie. His leg now bouncing rapidly in complete anxiousness, feeling the stares of a certain someone. He turns to face whoever it is, finding both the bartender and his girlfriend, whose names he was unsure of, staring at him from the bar.

The woman slyly mixes her drink with her stirrer, eyes narrowing at the sight of him, refusing to look away. The man then whispers something to her, making her finally break away from the intense stare.

Jungkook turns back around, the heavy feeling in his chest making it hard to focus on the current performer, not that he really wanted to, but he needed a distraction, something to prevent him from drowning in his own thoughts.  

The claps mellow down as the curtains close, the famous club owner, Al, making his way to the front of the stage, mic now in hand. Jungkook felt as if his stomach was doing flips, both excited and nervous to see you, as he knew you’d probably be quick to spot him, only hoping he wouldn’t scare you off.

“She’s got a voice sent from the heavens above, almost as smooth as a Friday’s glass of whiskey,” Al starts off your usual introduction, Jungkook’s heart pounding with every word spoken, “she can sing, she can dance, she can act, she’s a triple threat of course! And to add to it all, she’s got the face of the doll,” the red curtain slowly begins to open, “she’s our newest star in the making, give a warm welcome for Miss Sally Rose!”

A young woman appears from behind the curtain, counting off the same way you always did, making the same exact motion you always do to the band. Jungkook could feel himself become sick as he heard the men begin to holler at her with every piece of clothing that began to drop, as long as they had something to satisfy their lust, it didn’t matter who was on that stage, as they were nothing but animals.

Where the hell were you? This was, no, this is your time slot. Maybe you’re out sick, he tells himself, no, you loved the stage more than anything. The same woman from earlier passes by with drinks in her hands, on her way to serve God knows who. He’s quick to flag her down, hoping she knew where you were, “What can I do for you handsome?” she winks.

“You don’t happen to know where Y/N is?” he politely asks.

The question causes her to scoff, “Oh darling, me and the girls have been wondering the same thing,” she chuckles, before walking away with her drinks, leaving Jungkook much more puzzled than before. Maybe you were late, he excuses, trying not to panic.

But as every performer begins and ends, the more restless he becomes, every drink he takes only causing the echoes from every holler to become more and more irritating, the world around him now spinning.

An hour later, the young woman comes out again, performing the final song of the night, just like you always would do. Truthfully speaking, he would’ve paid no mind to the performance, but something catches Jungkook’s eye. The woman seems to have her gaze fixed on a young man in the crowd, his wife chattering with the other woman sitting next to her. The same way Catherine would—he shakes his head in dismissal, blaming what he was seeing on his drunk state.

He’s quick to get up, deciding that it was best to momentarily take a step outside and catch a breather. You had to be backstage or something, he tells himself, deciding that he’d wait until everyone was gone to see you, just like he always did.

“Things will be just fine,” he whispers, mouth trembling from the cold weather.

Sighing, Jungkook takes one last look at his empty ring finger before making his way back inside, his nerves at an all time high. He knew you were avoiding him, and he knew he was probably the last person you wanted to see, but he needed to tell you that he was sorry. That what he said was something spoken out of anger, that he was hurt, and most importantly that he should’ve believed you.

Walking in, he sees the bartender flipping chairs on top of the table, presumably cleaning up for the night. Most nights, Jungkook would simply go straight backstage, as you had told him early on in the affair that there was no need for him to introduce himself to your co-workers, but tonight, well tonight he felt like an intruder.

He stands there momentarily, the stiffness in the room almost suffocating.

“She’s gone,” the young man bitterly scoffs, not bothering to spare a glance at Jungkook, “I thought you knew that already,” he mumbles to himself, as he continued to flip the wooden chairs and place them atop of the tables, finishing what was left of cleaning.

Jungkook stares at him for a moment, the words slowly processing in his head. What did he mean by you were “gone”? You wouldn’t leave, it was unlike you. Actually, no, you couldn’t leave, where did you have to go?

He shakes his head in dismissal, shooting the brown haired man a quizzical look, “What did you say again?'" he asks. Namjoon finally looks up from what he’s doing.

Jungkook expected a spiteful glare from Namjoon, one full of hatred for what he had done to his friend, but instead his eyes were hard-rimmed and fixed, immobile as the rest of his face. Almost as if he was studying Jungkook. The cold blank look on his face sends shivers down Jungkook’s spine, but he relents on breaking the cold stare, until finally Namjoon lets out a dry laugh.

“I knew you were a hard-headed person,” he nods his head in dismay, a superficial grin on his face, “you’re also a selfish one, so I should’ve known better,” he laughs again, in awe of how someone could be so … inconsiderate? Was that the word to describe Jungkook? Namjoon thought to himself, why were you so in love with this man, simply finding it hard to believe that you could fall for a man so self-centered.

“Haven’t you noticed by now that she’s been replaced?” Namjoon mocks, “or let me guess you thought you could waltz in here like a knight in shining armor, that she was on some kind of break or something and would forget the things you said, and then things would magically go back to normal,” Jungkook remains silent, “Well?” Namjoon deadpans.

“Y/N wouldn’t just leave like that,” Jungkook says, “it’s not like her,” Namjoon was lying, he had to be.

Namjoon shrugs, “Well guess what she’s gone, I could only wish I knew where. She just grabbed her things and left without a trace, no goodbye, no nothing, but go ahead, look for yourself,” Namjoon makes a motion towards your old dressing room.

Slowly Jungkook breaks eye contact, unsure of what to believe. Quietly he makes his way to the dressing room he’d been in a countless number of times in the past year, still in denial of what Namjoon just told him.

He lets out a deep breath before turning the door knob, a churning feeling in his stomach as he recalled the last time he was here, his words ringing in his head.

Immediately Jungkook feels his heart plummet as he sees the empty room, your vanity which was once full of makeup and bottled perfumes was now vacant of anything and the hangers which were once used for your extravagant outfits as well as your fluffy coats now hung unused.

Jungkook crouches to pick up the only thing that remained of you in the room, the golden glass-framed picture you had of yourself performing now shattered on the floor, a small snapshot of the star you were. He smiles in reminiscence, remembering the night the photo was taken, and how you kept rambling on about why Jungkook would spend so much to have the photo of someone like yourself taken, let alone a photo of your worst angle. But you had kept it nonetheless, hell you even hung it on the wall for safekeeping, only for it to be shattered by the same person who gifted it.

“You didn’t!” you gasp, picking up the framed photo which had been placed on your vanity desk, “When did you even take—how—” Jungkook quickly shuts you up by cupping your face, and giving you a kiss, immediately squishing your cheeks in the playful manner that he always did.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, “I thought since you didn’t want to accept my gift last time, a sincere one like this would be something you just couldn’t deny.”

“Those pearls were too much,” you shake your head in disapproval, “and you know why I couldn’t accept it,” the image of Catherine pops in your head as he remains silent, but you’re quick to shrug it off, “but this,” you say, waving the picture he had seen a plenty of times before tonight to his face, “this is special,” you grin.

“I knew you’d love it,” he smiles, giving you another peck on the lips.

“Honestly, you shouldn't have,” you laugh, still in disbelief of the photo of yourself. Hell, to have a portrait of yourself taken behind a plain old wall was already something expensive here in New York, and so to have a photo taken of yourself while performing was truly indescribable. “Too bad they got my worst angle,” you complain, causing him to roll his eyes. Grabbing the framed photo from your hands, he places it over the empty nail on the wall.

“Won’t you look at that,” he smiles, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, the two of you now silently admiring the hung photo.

“Jungkook?” you break the prolonged silence.  

He hums in response, turning his head to face you, your heart feeling as swelled as the ocean once near its moon.

“I—” you pause, just get the words out, you think to yourself. Maybe things would finally change. He stares at you in the same doe-eyed expression he always did whenever he was attentively listening to you, curious as to what you were thinking, “I just wanted to say thank you… for the photo,” you awkwardly smile, Jungkook slightly raising his eyebrow at your sudden behavior, but he doesn’t dwell on it too much, instead placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

The memory being one for a lifetime. 

Jungkook dusts off the glass fragments, carefully trying not to cut himself as his fingers graze over the flimsy developed photo. And as he studies the photo, the realization finally hits him, you were really gone.

“I’ll be fine,” he whispers to himself in a distant, quiet, lifeless voice, “I’ll be just fine,” he grazes the photo again, slowly crouching into his knees, photo still in hand, until finally the sounds of silent muffled sobs is the only thing that can be heard from your dressing room.

Namjoon quietly sweeps the floor, humming some Duke Ellington, trying his best to ignore the thoughts that lingered in the back of his mind. Jungkook had left hours ago, Namjoon having heard the silent cries from your dressing room, and for a slight second even making eye contact with the red puffy-eyed man as he left, who had been mumbling inaudible things to himself.  

He didn’t think he’d cry, was what Namjoon had first thought to himself after hearing Jungkook silently sob in your empty dressing room. He honestly expected Jungkook to do anything but cry, hell Namjoon had even told himself to be ready to throw some punches just in case he tried anything stupid.

And so to see Jeon Jungkook, the man who had been coming to this bar for the past year, never failing to order a classic gin and tonic, and always seeming like he was on top of the world, break down in a tiny isolated room, was almost something unimaginable. And for some reason it bothered Namjoon. It wasn’t that Jungkook wasn’t allowed to cry...

Namjoon momentarily stops what he’s doing, sighing in frustration.

It bothered him because it went against everything he thought of Jungkook, the image he had created for Jungkook in his head. It would mean that Jungkook was someone who never meant to be so selfish, but was someone who was emotionally blind to those around him.

And isn’t the unknown always a bit scary?

The only problem was that being blind was something involuntary, and with the countless stories you’d tell Namjoon from time to time, sometimes it seemed like Jungkook was voluntarily choosing to ignore the feelings of those around him.

Namjoon could only speculate why, but maybe, just maybe Jungkook was the kind of person who had long ago put his personal feelings aside to please those around him, including his wife, thinking that it’d be what was best.That he could live a numbing life as long as it meant those around him were satisfied, that it was enough to feel fulfilled with, until you came into the mix.

And once you did, the conflict of choosing what made him happy versus what made others happy while trying to spare both sides’ feelings and opinions, only did more harm than good, stupidly choosing to blindly believe of a false letter. 

And now Jungkook was left with no one but himself.

Was it deserved? Namjoon was unsure now. Y/N. Y/N. Y/N, Namjoon thinks to himself.

The only reason he would excuse your actions was because to those around you, seeing you happy was like the sun shining after a storm, a shine so bright you’d think those happy days would last forever, but to see you sad, it was as if the world would storm on end.

But what Namjoon should’ve realized was that at the end of the day, what you and Jungkook had done was wrong, and there was no denying it.

Hell, it even went against Namjoon’s personal beliefs. Of course it didn’t mean that he was no better of a person because the same way you two had to face the karma of your actions, he and Mina would have to reprimand themselves one day as well for excusing your actions. For allowing things to have gotten this far.

“Jungkook really did love you,” he whispers to himself, shaking his head at the conclusion of this awful tale.

Namjoon sighs.

All he could do was hope that he had done the right thing lying to Jungkook about your whereabouts, and that the next time Namjoon saw you, you’d be the successful woman you were always meant to be, and that this period in your life would be nothing more than a small chapter to look back at.

“Ticket ma’am,” the conductor approaches you. Pulling out your ticket from your purse, you allow the conductor to both inspect and punch the ticket with his rustic clipper, “Now what is a pretty New York doll like you going all the way to the city of Los Angeles for?” he chimes, “You sure you ain’t lost little lady?” he jokes, causing you to laugh.

“I sure ain’t, I’m going to Los Angeles to follow my dreams in becoming famous! You might even catch me on the big screen soon!” you gush, causing him to let out a chuckle.

“Well little lady, I’ve heard that one before and I’ve told every single person I’ve come across that it’s almost impossible,” he mentions, “And I have yet to be proven wrong,”

“Well Mr,” you glance at his name tag, “Rosco, you better remember my name and face because I’m going to make it big in Hollywoodland, I don’t care if it’s as a singer or as an actress, but just you wait!” you declare, a toothy grin plastered on your face.

“Well little miss,” he glances at the ticket which has your name printed in a red colored font, “y/n, I’ve gotta say, I don’t think I’ve met anyone with the same amount of enthusiasm you got going for yourself,” a genuine smile comes across his face as he returns you your ticket, “I wish you nothing but the best on your endeavors,” he compliments, before making his way to the seated passenger in front of you.

Looking out the train’s window, the fields of grass along with the bright blue sky that were being passed by faster than a speeding bullet, for some reason make you feel a longing for home, it was probably because everything was barely hitting you. From the moment he had said what he did in your argument, everything onward had been nothing but a sporadic adrenaline-rushed blur.

“Jungkook?” you ask to an empty room, the shakiness of your voice coming to realize the reality of what has just occurred. The sinking feeling in your chest was what could only be described as heartbreak, though it felt like so much more.

He’s coming back, he’s going to come back. He has to come back, you keep repeating to yourself. Jungkook loves you. He didn’t mean what he said. He couldn’t.

You stare at the photo you had hung on the wall, which was now cracked on the floor, a result at just how harsh the door had been slammed. You could feel the lump in your throat beginning to take its form, but you refuse to let it out. He’s coming back, he has to.

The sound of the door knob twisting quickly grabs your attention, a feeling of relief washing over you. You knew he’d come back. You were his girl, you were the love of his life.

But just as quick as the relief had come, it had left even faster once you saw that the person you thought walking through that door was in fact not Jungkook, but Namjoon who stood there in silence, trying to hide the look of pity on his face. “Y/N…” he whispers in sadness.

“N-No,” your lips wobble, “No,” you begin to vigorously shake your head in denial, “No!” you quaver out, desperately trying to blink back the floodgate of tears that was begging to be released. Namjoon could feel his gut clench at the hopelessness of the situation, knowing that there was nothing he could possibly do because Jungkook was gone, and he was not coming back.

He watches as the tears slowly begin to freely fall, the silent sobs finally escaping from your mouth. Your chest heaves, until finally a cry so raw comes out of your mouth that you grab onto your vanity chair so that your shaking would not cause you to fall.

Quickly, he makes his way to envelope you in a tight hug, humming small comforting words to your ear despite knowing that you probably weren’t listening. You sob into his chest unceasingly, your hand clutching onto Namjoon’s jacket as he held you in silence, rocking you slowly as your tears soaked his chest, blinking back his own tears. The two of you stand there for what seems like forever, the sound of your muffled sobs filling the air.

The wet mascara that was mixing itself with your tears stinging your eyes, almost as if it was trying to force you to stop crying, but you just couldn’t. With every sob that forced its way out, your chest would rise and fall unevenly as you gasped for breath.

How could he do this? Why? Things weren’t supposed to end like this. Not at all. “Shh, shh,” Namjoon hums, “you’re gonna be okay, you hear me?” he reassures. You wanted to scream, to say something, anything, but nothing could come out. If anything you could feel your lungs scream for oxygen, your airway becoming compressed with every hysterical sob that was let out.

Quickly pushing off Namjoon, you feel as if the world is spinning and that the walls of your dressing room were closing in. You begin to gasp over and over, hysterically tapping on your stomach, “Get this,” you heave out, “Get this off of me!” you breathe out, lifting your dress up, and desperately trying to unknot the corset you were wearing underneath.

Namjoon quickly grabs some scissors from your vanity, cutting the piece of ribbon which held together the piece of fabric that clinched your waist. Immediately, you could feel the air return to your lungs, a feeling of relaxation now washing over you, as the riptide finally mellowed down.

You stand in front of the mirror, staring at the reflection across from you, your tears silently falling from your cheeks. Namjoon makes his way behind you, tucking your loose strands of hair behind your ear, “Hey, listen to me,” he whispers, “you are going to be just fine,” he firmly states.

“Joon?”

“Hm,” he responds.

“Can you,” your voice cracks, “Can you just take me home?” Your question is met with silence because instead he grabs a big oversized coat from your rack and places it over your shoulders.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he says, watching you as you made your way out of the dressing room, for what he knew would be your last time.

Waking up to the feeling of a hand firmly shaking your shoulder, your heavy eyelids struggling to flutter open, the soreness from crying taking its toll. You must’ve fallen asleep during the car ride home, you reason, finally managing to open your eyes completely. You rub your eyes, confused as to where you were because this was definitely not the outside of your apartment building.

In fact, you were outside of Grand Central Terminal, “What the..” you turned to face Namjoon, who had a sad smile on his face, “Joon? What’s,” you falter your words, “What’s going on?” you ask, confusion now overwhelming you.

He lets out a deep sigh of sadness before continuing, “You’re going to California Y/N,” if you had been half-awake before, you certainly weren’t now, quickly jolting forward in shock, “Los Angeles or may I say Hollywoodland to be more specific,” he reiterates, a tiny chuckle coming out of his mouth.

“J-Joon,” you stutter, “you’re crazy!” you sputter, “Absolutely crazy!” you hit his shoulder causing him to let out a yelp in pain.

“Y/N I’m being serious!” he turns and points to the passenger seat of his car, “I even managed to pack most of your things while you were asleep, all the essentials are in those two luggage bags.”

“How did you even—” you shake your head, trying to stay on topic, “Joon I can’t just pack up my things and go, I have—” you hesitate with your next choice of words, what exactly did you have in New York that was holding you back?

Namjoon answers the question before you could, “Nothing. You have absolutely nothing here to hold you back, so why not go chase your dream huh?” he exclaims, “It’s what you’ve always wanted to do Y/N and I’m one hundred percent sure Hollywoodland is looking for a doll face like yours to go shake up the scene,” he laughs, “You can dance, you can sing, and you sure can act, especially those days you wouldn’t want to come into work,” he jokingly mumbles garnering him another slap to the shoulder, “Hey, hey, relax! Point is Y/N, you’re one of the most talented people I know, if not the most talented person I’ve ever met, and it’d be a waste of talent for you not to go out there and show people what you’re made of, Hell I even hear they’re beginning to develop sound films over there, and a voice like yours needs to be memorialized for future generations,” he says, as tears to begin to brim your waterlids.  

“But Joon—” you sniffle, “I don't, I don’t have the money to live out there, hell I barely have enough money in my purse to purchase myself a ticket,” you scoff because it was the truth.

“I know you don’t,” he deadpans, causing you to laugh.

“Then?” you chuckle. Slowly, he flips his coat and reaches into its inner pocket, pulling out and handing you what seemed to be a heavy envelope. You peep inside the sealed white envelope, it’s content causing you to let out a small yelp in surprise. There had to be at least 200 dollars in there! You quickly shake your head in disapprovement.

“Joon, no, no, no! You can't. You've been saving up for—!”

“Hey! Listen to me Y/N, look at me,” he demands, grabbing your hands which had been flailing around in denial. “This money right here means absolutely nothing to me if it means that someone like you can get the opportunity to pursue their dreams, especially because I know it’ll mean absolutely everything for you,” he smiles.

“But Joon, you’ve been saving up this money for your wedding for so long, I can’t, Mina’s going to kill you!” you fluster, Namjoon must’ve been going crazy or something. He’d been working so many hours for the past months, doing countless hours of overtime and being on his best behavior for some tips, how could he give it all up for some gamble at fame?

“I’ve already spoken to her about this and she had absolutely no problem with it!” he laughs, “A wedding is nothing but a celebration for a piece of signed paper, it won’t be the end of the world if we wait a little longer,” he reassures, “As long as Mina and I know we’re in this for life, then that piece of paper won’t change anything.”

“Joon I can’t—”

“You can and you will Y/N,” he firmly states, “plus you can always pay me back once you get rich and famous,” he teases, winking at you. “So, what do you say Y/N? You ready to go to Los Angeles?” You stare at him without blinking, a million thoughts racing through your head. This was your dream, the thing you’d spent a countless number of nights only imagining whenever you’d get up on that wooden stage to perform, and now you were finally going to get the chance to make it a reality.

“I don’t,” you hesitate, “I’m,” you feel your skin tingle with the words you’re about to say, now having made your decision, “I’m going to Hollywoodland,” you softly cry out in disbelief, a dimpled grin appearing on Namjoon’s face.

“Atta girl,” tears which weren’t of sadness, anger, but joy now falling from your face, as you quickly pull Namjoon into a hug. Slowly, he breaks away, “Come on, you gotta get going,” he glances at his wrist watch, which read a quarter past nine, “the train leaves half past nine, and I still gotta walk you to the departing area.”

Quickly buttoning up your coat and fixing your hair, you try your best to seem presentable, Namjoon grabbing your luggage from the backseat and exiting the vehicle, as you do the same, but for you it all feels different. Looking up to the building that surrounds the terminal, you soak in the final view of New York which you wouldn't be seeing for who knows how long. Years ago you’d imagine leaving home, but never like this, and for a moment it was as if time slowed down, almost like your brain needed a “photograph” to commemorate this moment,

The man playing on his saxophone outside the station for tips only adding a warm comfort to your fears, a reminiscent sound which was a balm to your mind, a reminder of the nostalgic chapter in your life that you’d look back to, whether it was with a joyful outlook was only for you to decide.

Slowly the two of you begin to walk to the departing area, your legs feeling more and more wobbly with every step you took. This was really happening.

“Here we are,” Namjoon announces, gently placing your luggage on the floor, and then placing hands against his hips in marvel at how gigantic the stationed train was. Your eyes glisten, once again pulling Namjoon into a hug. “You sure are emotional, you know that right?” he teases, causing you to only further tighten the hug.

You pull out the hug, “I’m going to write to you every week, I promise you!” you avow, causing Namjoon to immediately shake his head in disagreement.

“No, no, you have to focus on your career every waking minute Y/N, if anything just save a couple of bucks every month and ring me here and there, I’m always at the club most of the time and it’s not like you don’t know my schedule, plus I’m sure Al won’t charge me for using the telephone machine every once in a while,” he explains, voice slightly wavering, as his eyes were now glossy from trying to hold back his tears causing you to let out a laugh.

“Come on, you know you wanna cry,” you sniffle, pulling him in for another hug.

“Ah, I’m gonna miss you Y/N,” he laughs through his tears, “they don’t make em like you anymore.”

“This is the final boarding call for New York to Los Angeles which includes a stop at Chicago!” the conductor yells out the train, “I repeat, this is the final boarding call for New York to Los Angeles!” Namjoon quickly taps on your shoulders, rushing you to get on board.

Swiftly, you pick up the luggage cases on the floor, and begin to make your way inside the train but not before shouting something to Namjoon, “Hey, I expect to see a pregnant Mina the next time I see you guys, you hear me!” he facepalms himself, his cheeks becoming red at how loudly you announced it.

You quickly run to your seat, looking at Namjoon through the window, who remained where he stood, the train slowly beginning to move, while the conductor pulls the lever for the steam whistle, the final declaration to the new chapter in your life. You anxiously wave to Namjoon one last time, a grand smile on both of your faces, as he waves in return. The (what you assumed) family members of other passengers also waved goodbye, many teary eyed as you could only imagine the stories of everyone else on the train.

Once you were out of eyesight, you made yourself comfortable on your seat, slightly tilting your head against the window, a long unexpected trip now ahead of you.

Los Angeles from what you could currently tell was definitely different than to what you were used to in New York, but beautiful nonetheless. The cab you managed to pin down was currently driving you to the small motel you found on one of the welcoming pamphlets of the city.

Currently, you were being driven down the newly built Sunset Boulevard, where you could only hope you’d be living on sometime in the near future.

“Ah there it is,” the taxi driver points out the window, and immediately a wonderstruck look appears on your face, your heart now pounding in excitement at the sight of the word “Hollywoodland” appearing from the mountains. “Welcome to Los Angeles kid,” the man says, to which you only nod your head in dumbfoundedness, “you better make the most of it.”

“I sure am.”

a/n: i purposely left the ending ambiguous just because i felt like it should be your guys’ imagination as to whether y/n makes it big in hollywood depending on whether you like her or not LOL, so if you don’t like her you could always imagine she flopped or sum, and whatever jungkook does afterward being unknown as well. Catherine a better person than me, cause forgiving a cheater just aint in my heart LMAO.

also I wanted to dive further into namjoon and y/n’s friendship, as well as add a scene where y/n went shopping for her dress but I was burning out and so hopefully I did good conveying the sincerity of their friendship and the importance of the event to y/n + talk more about jk’s and catherine’s families but I think I put enough hints, that you guys would get the point and its effects on them as people. 

Feel free to comment, send me a message, or drop an anon! Anything is appreciated & if you can please like and reblog 💘 till next time.

Safety Net || part one. (m.)

all rights reserved © pradaksj

↳do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

❧ summary ⟶ on new year’s eve, you and jungkook reflect on each other’s entire year together. 

❧ pairing⟶ jungkook/reader 

❧ genre⟶  enemies to friends, friends to lovers, roommates au, fluff, angst, pining, eventual smut, boxer!jungkook. two-part series. 

❧ word count ⟶ 24,000+

❧ warnings ⟶ mentions of oral and sex but nothing explicit or descriptive. fight scene that involves drunk man. mentions of bullying (in the past). 

❧ music⟶ safety net, selfish, stuck on you, exile, +more

❧ a/n (please read) ⟶ this story switches a lot from past & present, I color coded borders to make it easier to tell :) dark purple = entering/still in the past, light purple= present, also this is unedited so sorry for any mistakes 😭 ill come back to edit a lot of things soon. 

01 | 02 

“Oh perfect, y/n!” Hobi stops you dead in your tracks before you could completely make your way onto the living room, “You don’t mind grabbing some more firewood from my car while I finish these up,” he says, currently too busy melting the chocolate for the s’mores he was making.

You see tonight was New Year’s Eve, and you and a couple of other close friends had decided to rent out a cabin in celebration of the new year instead of going out to some end of the year party, choosing comfort over a night of wild drinking. In the end it didn’t make much of a difference, because the moment you saw Jimin and Taehyung walk in with a pack of soju and other cheap liquor in their hands, you knew that by the end of the night someone, if not everyone, was going to end up completely wasted.

And of course, you were right. After hours of being outside in the cold, with the boys drinking as if there was no tomorrow, everyone had now made their way back inside, complaining that it was too cold outside and that the cabin came with an indoor fireplace for a reason.

Never one to drink too heavy, you had kept your drinking at a moderate pace, only allowing yourself to reach a relaxed kind of buzz. Namjoon and Yoongi on the other hand were currently debating on whether the US’s landing of the moon was nothing more than a fake ploy to beat Russia and was instead filmed on some movie set. 

Jin and his girlfriend acted as measly facilitators between the two men who had been bickering back and forth for the past hour, their slurred speeches making it difficult to take either one seriously. 

Jimin, for his part, had attempted to keep his drinking at a minimal but with Taehyung acting as his partner in crime, the two were now playing an unbalanced game of ping-pong, both of them looking as if at any moment they were going to knock out on the table. And Jungkook was— well where the hell was Jungkook?

But before you could dwell too much on the thought, Hobi’s voice snaps you back to reality, “pleaseeee, I’ll even add an extra chocolate square to your s’more, just like how always like em,” he flashes you a smile, your roommate of 3, going on 4, years knowing just what to say to convince you, not that you needed much of it. 

Minus Hobi, you were probably the person closest to being sober, and you did not want to imagine the different disastrous scenarios that would happen if he sent anyone who wasn’t yourself out there. You also highly doubted any of them would even be up for it, and so with that you just let out a small groan, mumbling, “Where are your keys?”

Excitedly he points to the kitchen island, where his Hyundai’s keys laid across, “I parked right near the lake,” he says, immediately causing you to look back at him, brows furrowed in confusion, “No one wanted to carry the wood from here to the bonfire earlier, so I just parked near the lake to save our energy,” you roll your eyes, “Come on, it’s just a 2 minute walk at most, and I’m sure there’s still people celebrating across the lake as well so you don’t feel so scared, but if you want I can ask Jungkook to go wi—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine—” you interrupt, grabbing the keys and beginning to make your way out, quickly putting on your coat because God knew how cold it was outside. “He’s probably asleep already, knowing him,” you chuckle, the boy who Hobi had introduced you to in the last year and had been living with you two as well, had habit’s that were all too predictable by now. And though you knew he’d be more than glad to get up from bed and help, for now at least, you wanted him to rest as he, himself, was probably tired from carrying things back and forth all day in the help of preparing everything. “I’ll be quick,” you say.

“Make sure that no wooden splinter cuts you,” he shouts out before the wooden door closes, having been the victim to such cuts all day, “and call me if you find it too heavy!”

Beep. Beep.

Double clicking the lock button, you grunt as you try to simultaneously carry the uneven pieces of firewood and place Hobi’s keys back into your jacket’s pocket.

“Oh my God—” you mumble to yourself, frustrated by the lack of cooperation from the keys. The wood was now slipping from your hands, its gritty texture eager to leave you a cut and as predicted it does. 

Wincing in pain, you uncaringly drop the pieces of wood, worried more about the cut on your hand than what had fallen on the ground below. Luckily the cut wasn’t too bad, nothing a little soap and water couldn’t fix, but the tingly sting in your hand meant that you’d have to wait a while before picking the wooden pieces back up.

Around you, you could hear the sound of different groups of friends and family celebrating with their own events, spotting different bonfires all around the lake. Glancing at the time on your phone, it currently read 11:00, only one more hour until the new year. A part of you was tempted to walk further down the path that led to the lake’s shore. Maybe even secretly wait so that you could watch the fireworks these groups of people most likely had shoot up into the sky at 12. Especially because you knew going back to the cabin, no one would want to come back out with you to watch. Honestly, how bad did they need their wood?

And so by convincing yourself, you begin to walk further towards the lake, careful not to trip on any of the scattered rocks that surround you. By the time you made it down, you were surprised to see just how far you were from other families, most, if not all, of them being directly across the lake. Honestly you wouldn’t have preferred it any other way. 

You didn’t want to seem creepy, but the sight was somewhat comforting, the kids running around in their winter gear while their parents and friends all surrounded their bonfire, sticks and marshmallows in hand.

Not to mention that tonight was a full moon, the milky glow from the moonlight reflecting against the ripples of the lake, and the tiny stars which surrounded the magnet that was the moon only adding to the grand scenery in front of you. Usually you weren’t a sucker for these kinds of things, but wow did it look amazing. The person who’d really enjoy something like this was probably—

“Jungkook,” you breathe out, confused if you were seeing things because there he was, not too far from where you stood, sitting on a giant rock with his feet dangling, careful to not touch the freezing water. His right hand throwing the small pebbles that were near him to the lake. Not too hard, and not too soft. Clearly in his own world. 

A small smile graces your lips, as you watch him continue, the lake not being the only thing the moonlight was hitting. His glimmering doe shaped eyes focused on the view in front of him, and you could only wonder what had him in such deep thought, but instead not wanting to bother, you slowly began to walk back, careful to not to make any loud noises.

One Step. Two Steps. Three Steps. Crrreaaak.

Mentally, you groan at the sound of the branch breaking, hoping that it wasn’t loud enough for him to hear.

“Y/N?” he says unsurely, his attention snapping towards the sound, squinting while trying to make out your figure from afar. Your tensed shoulders drop in response. Deciding that there wasn’t much you could do, you turn around and walk towards him, feeling a little guilty that you’ve probably interrupted his time alone.

He watches as you make your way towards him, scooting to his left in order to make space for you because unbeknown to you, he was not at all bothered by your presence. In fact, he had just been thinking about you along with a question that had been looming over his head for quite some time. And the fact that you somehow managed to appear in this exact moment, almost as if it was fate, only left him in further awe.

“I thought you were asleep,” you chuckle, gently sitting down on the empty spot next to him, slowly rubbing your slightly cut hands together in an attempt to stay warm.

“I was going to sleep, but,” he pauses, “I just couldn’t,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, “and well why waste such a good view by being in bed, am I right?,” he laughs before quickly noticing the fresh scar on your hand, “What happened?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

You shrug your shoulders in response, “I came to grab some more firewood from Hobi’s car and well long story short, I dropped them and well I got left with this,” you laugh, not taking your tiny injury too seriously.

Opening up your hand to further show him, he carefully examines the pinkish-red scar which was now slightly swollen, sighing in disappointment, “Mm you should’ve gone to go get it disinfected,” he mumbles, slightly shaking his head as he decides that he wasn’t going to lecture you any further, for in the past year he’s learned that even someone as sweet as you, has their own buttons capable of being pushed. 

Having pushed them many, many times before, tonight he just wanted you to feel relaxed and not have to worry about whether he’d say the wrong thing or not. Tonight… well tonight he just wanted for you to seek comfort in his presence, the same way he’d found comfort in yours along the way.

“It doesn’t hurt too much if I’m being honest,” you give him a small reassuring smile, if anything your hands felt more clammy than they did pain. The warm feeling in your chest only expanding to the point where you swore you could feel it at the bottom of your toes. 

Honestly, it was a feeling you found yourself all too familiar with these days, and though you knew what it was, you were also unsure on how to act on it, fearful of ruining the friendship with Jungkook that had gone through several ups and downs this year. And so for you the easiest thing to do was to just avoid thinking about it and avoid talking about it.

But there was no denying that the rush of emotions you’d feel whenever you managed to crack a laugh out of Jungkook to the point where his nose would scrunch so high up that you were sure that those happy days would last forever, or the ticklish butterflies you’d feel in your stomach on movie nights where he’d randomly begin to twirl your hair with his fingers, and the rapid heartbeat you’d feel hitting against your chest after an argument over something so trivial, until of course after several days of the silent treatment, one of you would get over themselves and stubbornly apologize whether it be through words or actions, were nothing but love.

Because even in the good and bad of your friendship, the arguments and the laughs, the tears and the smiles, somehow along the way you had found yourself falling in love with the boy who was nothing more than a stranger a year ago today.

“50 more minutes,” he says under his breath, bringing you back to reality.

Awkwardly you smile, “Yeah…” you breathe, the cold crisp weather causing vapor to come out of your mouth, a sign that you were freezing despite having such a thick sweater on. Jungkook is quick to take notice, offering his own puffy jacket for you to wear, to which you quickly refuse, “Take it, I have a sweater underneath anyway,” he pressures. You find it doubtful that his black cotton turtleneck was going to be sufficient enough for him in this weather. 

You giggle at his sweet gesture, finding it all too endearing, “I’m telling you I’m good,” you laugh, your shivering fingers telling a different story, “Until the clock strikes twelve at least,” you bargain, pushing the sweater in his hand away back towards him, “then I’ll go back to the warm cabin.” 

He looks at you as if unconvinced, but decides to drop it and take your word for it. And if you somehow managed to weasel into staying any longer past 12, then he’d just have to forcefully carry you back to the cabin.

Soon a comfortable silence fills the air, the two of you appreciating not only the view but each other’s presence. How fitting was it that the person you met on New Year’s day last year was going to be the person you ended it with, and begin a whole ‘nother year with.

“Can you believe it’s been one whole year since we’ve met,” he suddenly breaks the silence, almost as if reading your mind. To that you let out a small breathy chuckle, in disbelief yourself. Time had gone both so slow and fast this year, it was fascinating really, how you could be both so aware and unaware that someone’s very own existence was beginning to take such a special place in your heart.

“It feels like,” you pause momentarily, a small gentle smile appearing on your face as you remembered your first encounter with Jungkook, not knowing that it’d only be the beginning to the originally rocky relationship you had with him, “It feels like it was only yesterday.”

December 31, 2018.

New Years Eve.

11:00 PM.

“Only one hour left until the new year everybody!” the DJ shouts onto his mic and over the blasting music of the party you were currently at, “Make sure you grab that special somebody before the clock strikes 12!”

“You heard him y/n, go grab a special somebody,” Hobi teases, the two of you currently sitting at the bar acting as mere spectators to the group of partygoers that were currently having the time of their life on the dance floor.  

For both you and Hobi, this type of setting was a little… how could you describe it … out of place for the two of you, but after weeks of begging from both Jimin and Taehyung and a little added pressure from Namjoon and Yoongi, the two of you now found yourselves here drinking the final night of 2018 away.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny,” you playfully roll your eyes, grabbing the shot glass full of tequila and downing the surprisingly smooth liquor. Hobi follows suit and chugs down his own. A squirmful look on his face following soon after. “Maybe if I drink enough, I’ll find myself dancing just like them,” you laugh, glancing at your group of friends who were currently acting as the life of the party, Jimin busting out what he calls his most “exclusive” moves.

Hobi, unlike him, remains silent which catches your attention. His attention was now on his phone, his face now appearing both red and stressed out. Nosily, you stretch your neck and attempt to peak at what could possibly have your roommate so worried, but Hobi’s quick to catch you. Immediately he pulls his phone towards his chest.

You gasp in dramatic fashion because one, your roommate wasn’t one to keep secrets from you, and two, well you were beginning to feel a little tipsy. “Now what could Jung Hoseok be hiding,” your words come out slightly slurred, a sign that the only thing you should be drinking from this point onward was some water.

“I’m not hiding anything,” he’s quick to respond, back on his phone but this time keeping it out of your reach, his fingers quickly tapping against the glass screen. You could only wonder who it was that had him typing as if his life depended on it.

“Come onnnnn,” you sing, playfully pushing his shoulder, “It can’t be that interesting, considering you don’t do much,” you pout. He looks up from his phone for a moment, but only to shoot you a glare, excusing your teasing with the fact that you were barely holding onto the state of being tipsy and on the brink of being considered drunk.

Hobi’s eyes quickly read the most recent text he’s received, rolling his eyes at whatever it was before sighing in distress, “You really wanna know?” eagerly you nod your head yes, “Well I was hoping he would be here so I could introduce you to him,” he gently shakes his head, clearly disappointed by tonight’s outcome.

“Ooooo who's the special person,” you quirk your brows up and down, but Hobi’s quick to shoot the idea down.

“Oh no, no, it’s not like that,” he laughs, “this person is a..” he pauses, trying to look for the best word to describe his relationship with said person, “Mm I guess we can call him a childhood friend,” he hums, “and well he’s been going through a bit of a tough time right now and well long before me and you ever met, he went out of his way to help me and well I think this time it’s only right that I’m there for him.” you tilt your head, slightly confused as to where this was going, “And sooo,” he sings, “I was hoping that by bringing you here and having you in a fun mood, that I could ask if he could stay at our place for a couple of months…”

You remain silent, Hobi’s words processing through your head one by one, an effect of the alcohol currently running through your system, “Only until he gets used to being in Seoul again, and finds some kind of solid ground here of course,” Hobi throws it in, worried that your silence meant rejection.

“Oh…” you mumble, thinking to yourself for a moment. Hobi’s friend huh? Well you and Hobi were like two peas in a pod, meaning whoever was a friend of his, was a friend of yours, point blank. You trusted that whoever this friend was, and whatever predicament they were in, chose to go to Hobi for the sole reason that Hobi was one of, if not the kindest person you’ve ever met, and was one of the very rare kind of people who made sure that whatever it was a person was going through, that they found a way to overcome it. And well you also assume that Hobi was going to take care of this person’s expenses … right?

You smile once you reach a decision, “Of course they can stay Hobi,” you laugh, a little offended that he thought you’d say no, but glad that he asked anyway.

Immediately Hobi breathes a sigh of relief, glad that he got that out of the way, “But he’s using your bathroom, make sure you tell him that!” you throw in, not wanting the order in which you had your things arranged to be touched with.

Hobi laughs in response, “I’ll make sure to tell Jungkook that,” so that was his name, Jungkook. Not too much of a common name in Korea, interesting, you think.

“So when do I get to meet our new temporary roommate?” you ask in eagerness, curiosity a driving force.

Hobi sighs recalling his text from not too long ago, “Well he was supposed to come here and celebrate tonight, giving you two a chance to meet beforehand, but,” he rereads the message on his phone, hoping the three bubbles would pop up at some point before scoffing and ultimately giving up, locking the screen, “I’m not entirely too sure if he’s going to make it.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you get up from the bar stool and stretch out your arms, yawning in turn, “Mm well I guess I’ll just meet him on move in day,” you joke around, glancing at the time on your phone, “but for now I need to go pee before the countdown, there’s only like 10 minutes left,” you exclaim, surprised by how fast the hour had gone by. Hobi nods in response, getting up himself and making his way to the dance floor, joining your group of friends.

And so you begin to walk towards the ladies’ room, humming yourself a tune over the EDM music that was currently close to rupturing your eardrum. How people liked this kind of music was something you’d never understand, but to each their own right? Luckily you weren’t as drunk as you thought you were, the effects of the tequila only acting as something quick and not long lasting. Now in more of a buzzed state than “drunk”.

“MmmMmmMmm,” you hum, pushing the door of the ladies room and making your way into one of the stalls. But what you saw once you opened the restroom stall was … um …. it was safe to say that you were shocked at the sight in front of you. Shocked to the point where you couldn’t even properly react, not even a shriek coming out of your mouth. 

Instead you just stood there, wide eyed, at the sight of a brown haired woman on her knees, with her hair in a messy ponytail giving um … oral … on what you could only describe as a very very handsome man.

Now if you were to ask if he was really all that into it? Well it seemed a bit unclear considering how the two of you were now having a complete stare down, a shocked expression on your face while he had a stoic one on his, until slowly a small smirk began to appear on his face.

He scoffs before saying, “Enjoying the view?” and with that you finally shriek and quickly close the stall dorm, practically running out the door because not only were you embarrassed by the situation that just happened but still in complete shock.

“Oh my God,” you breathe out, leaning your head against the wall in an attempt to process what just happened. And once you did, you facepalmed yourself in frustration, mad at the reaction you had because God was that embarrassing. 

You had acted as if you’d never seen, hell, as if you’d never done the dirty with someone, but for some reason walking in on someone receiving their um... pleasure… had you feeling like a kid who didn’t know about the birds and the bees. And his little comment only added salt to the wound, he probably thought you were enjoying the view with how long you had stayed there standing like an idiot!

“Start grabbing your partners everyone because the countdown is happening in exactly three minutes everybody! Three minutes till we enter 2019!” Three minutes?! You had to find your friends quick! Pushing off what happened to the back of your mind, you speed walk back to the main sector of the club, looking through the crowd of people in hopes of finding at least one of your friends.

“Where could he b—Ah!” you impulsively squeal once you spot Hobi along with the rest of your friends, quickly making your way towards them, Hobi spotting you as well.

“There you are! What took you so long?” Hobi asks, but just as you’re about to answer, a voice from behind interrupts.

“I caught traffic, and well parking was a bitch,” the voice, all too familiar, sends a feeling of panic through your body because turning to face the owner of said voice, was just as surprising as the scene you walked in on only moments ago.

“Y/N! This is Jungkook, Jungkook this is Y/N, my roommate I was telling you about,” Hobi shouts over the music, and all you can do is stare at the man in front of you wide eyed. Your mouth slightly agape in shock, while Jungkook on the other hand has a teasing grin on his face, as only the two of you knew what had transpired in the ladies’ restroom. He sticks his hand out for you to shake and you notice the small number of tattoos that cover his hand.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we got one minute on the clock! Start saying your goodbyes to 2018, and get ready to say hello to 2019!” The DJ shouts excitedly, lowering the music for the countdown that’s about to begin.

“Earth to Y/N?” Hobi says waving his hand in front of you, having left Jungkook with his hand open for quite some time now.

“Oh,” you say, bringing yourself back to reality and shaking his hand in return, but the moment you do he brings you in for a small friendly hug, “What a small world,” he whispers into your ear, winking at you as he pulls away.

Hobi, unaware of how you two originally met, rolls his eyes, “Hey, hey hey, she’s our roommate not some girl you can go messing around with,” Hobi says, “Now come on you two, there’s only 15 seconds left!” gently he shoves the two of you towards your groups of friends who were now wearing their New Year’s props which included giant sunglasses, feathered boa’s, and more.

“In 10, 9, 8 , 7, 6…” everyone begins to scream the numbers of the countdown, 2018 clearly leaving with a bang, “5,4,3!” you suddenly feel an arm wrap over your shoulder, and like in the movies a part of you expected it to be the man you just met, but thankfully enough it was Jimin who was clearly drunk, excited, and in clear need of catching his balance. But of course that didn’t mean someone didn’t have their eyes on you from afar…

“2, 1! Happy New Year!” The fog machine erupts and the strings of golden confetti begin to fall from the club’s ceiling. Cheers to the New Year.

Clutching your stomachs in laughter, the two of you poke fun at the recollection of that fatal first encounter, “I really walked in on you getting,” you heave in such a way that you’re incapable of completing the sentence, genuine laughter filling the air.

“Hey, you were the one who stood there like you’d never seen a—” playfully you push his shoulder before even he gets the chance to finish his own sentence.

“Like what you see?” you exaggeratingly mimic his voice from that night, lowering your voice by several octaves. He cries out in laughter, tears now forming in the corners of his eyes, feeling cringe at his choice of words from a year ago today. Who did he think he was? “The woman didn’t even bother to look up! Clearly you had her enamored in what she was doing!” you tease, and in response he wraps his arms around you in a playful manner, telling you that he didn’t want to hear any more.

“What even happened when I left?” you ask, curious to know the answer considering you only knew what you did afterwards.

“Well I overheard the DJ yell about the countdown so I had to cut it short, and well we exchanged numbers. I mean it wasn’t at all a drunk hookup or anything, I was sober, she was sober. I think I went out with her once afterward, but,” he shrugs his shoulders, “It was just meant to be a one time thing I guess,” he mumbles, shaking his head in slight shame and embarrassment. See a year ago, hookups like that were the norm for him, but a year ago he was also nothing like the person he was now. Was it for the better? He’d like to think so.

Shaking your head, you mumble, “To think our relationship would only get worse,” you stare at him accusingly, “no thanks to you!” He stays silent, not bothering to deny the accusation.

“Hey you didn’t make it any easier!” he huffs, “Do you need help with that? What’s that? I don’t think that should be placed there,” he mocks your questions from that day many months ago, move in day.  

“I was just trying to be nice! Make things less awkward, you know?” you feel your cheeks get red, now seeing how pushy you had probably been.

He scoffs, “No you just didn’t want your things invaded with mine,” it was now your turn to stay silent.

“Mm,” you hum.

January 2019.

“I don’t think that should go there,” you whisper to Hobi, watching Jungkook place more of his things around your apartment, secretly hoping it was the last batch. 

This had to at least be your 15th complaint today, but what bothered Jungkook more was that not only wouldn’t you tell it to his face, but they’d be said in such a superficial tone. He didn’t care if you were trying to be “nice”, it sounded fake and prissy and he’d prefer it if you could just shut up for one moment. People like you were just so… annoying, and to think he thought you were cute.

“Do you need help?” your voice interrupts his train of thought, your figure now looming over his shoulder, and attempting to look at the content of his cardboard boxes. Harshly, he closes the flaps, momentarily scowling at you before taking a deep breath and putting on his best face.

“No it’s fine, I’m almost done but thank you though,” he says, now his turn to be superficial.

“Oh well just let me know if you need anything,” you smile, as unbeknownst to Jungkook, you really were just this nice of a person. Yeah, things may still be a little awkward on your part because of what happened on New Years Eve, you of course having to pep talk yourself several times in the mirror this morning, but to you it was important you established some kind of friendship with your new roommate. Even if he wasn’t going to be here for long.

“I’m gonna go get us takeout,” Hobi announces, not only tired but hungry from having helped Jungkook carry his stuff upstairs to the apartment floor all day, because out of all days in the year, today the elevator just had to be out of service. “I’ll be back,” he says, grabbing his keys from the counter and making his way out. Leaving you and Jungkook to yourselves.

An awkward silence fills the living room air, Jungkook currently taking a small break on the long couch, while you sit on the short one, fidgeting with your fingers. Maybe you should make conversation? It wouldn’t hurt right?  

“So Jungkook,” you begin nervously, he looks up from his phone and places his attention on you, a stoic expression on his face, “um..”, you mentally scold yourself for not already having a question prepared before speaking, “where are you from?”

Furrowing his eyebrows, he scoffs, “Korea?” he says, as if stating the obvious.

Feeling flustered, you reiterate your question, “No I mean like where did you move from, you know…” your voice lowers at the end.

He sighs before responding, his attention now back on his phone, “I was in the states for a while, but I’m originally from Busan.”

Immediately you light up, seeing this as an opportunity to further the conversation, “Oh I have a friend from there, I don’t know if you met him on New Years, but his name is Jimin!” you excitedly ramble, “He was the one with the dirty blonde hair, black turtleneck, sparkly jac—”

“Yeah I know,” Jungkook rudely interrupts, now getting up from the couch and walking towards his new room, “Let me know when Hobi’s back, yeah? I’m freaking starving,” and with that he enters his room and shuts the door, leaving you slightly taken back.  

“Will do,” you quietly mumble to yourself, a little hurt to say the least by his cold action. Shrugging it off, you excuse it by assuming he was just grumpy. You were sure that he'd be more open to having conversation after settling his things in.

That night after cleaning a couple of your own things, and eating the food Hobi had brought, you remained in bed and on your laptop, Youtube surfing the rest of the night away. That was of course until you heard the sound of your restroom door opening and closing. Right away you get up, already knowing what transpired, but wanting to see the mess that was most likely made with your own two eyes.

Walking into your restroom, you’re immediately hit with the scent of your strawberry shampoo and lavender body wash mixed in with the foggy steam that was created, a result of an extremely hot shower. The sink, a travesty to look at, was spilled with water all over and you did not even want to get started on the “manly” products that were now side to side with yours behind the mirror’s cabinet. Meanwhile, your hair brush was covered in strands of dark brown hair that clearly weren’t yours. But the final straw? Finding the cap of your $100 dollar serum halfly screwed closed with remnants dripping down the bottle.

Shutting the cabinet, you practically stomp out of your restroom and immediately towards Jungkook’s door. Raising your hand to knock, you take in a deep breath, reminding yourself to be calm. Maybe Hobi didn’t tell him anything about using your restroom. This was only going to be a one time thing until you cleared it out with him.

Gently, you knock on his door, patiently awaiting his response. You could hear the sound of muffled music playing in the background, meaning it was probably much louder inside the room than out. Raising your hand to knock again, the door swings open just as you’re about to tap against the black wooden door. A shirtless Jungkook with your baby blue towel wrapped around his waist.

“Yes?” he smugly says, your cheeks almost an embarrassing shade of crimson. It’s hard to not look at what’s in front of you, but you manage.

“Oh um—” you fluster your words, “um —” you gulp before finding your words again, “I was hoping Hobi had told you about the bathroom situation…but um..I guess he didn’t so um yeah, my bathroom is only for me to us—”

“He did,” he cuts you off,  huffing a small laugh.

“He what?” you asked, unsure of what he was referring to, or at least acting dense about it because you did not want to believe that the shirtless boy in front of you completely disregarded the simple rule he was supposed to follow.

“He told me about the whole bathroom rearrangement, buuuuttt,” he teases, “your restroom has the bigger shower and well add strawberry scented shampoo and lavender body wash into the mix and honestly it was a done deal for me,” he stretches his arms above himself, dramatically yawning, his abdomen stretching out in such a way that the towel on his waist was barely clinging onto its dear life.

“But—But—”

“But what?” he cocks his head to the side, amused by your panicked behavior, “It’s also the closest one to me so,” he shrugs his shoulders, “Well if that’s all you came here for then, goodnight,” he winks at you before turning around and slamming the door once again.

You stand there bewildered by what just happened, your mouth agape in shock. Did that really just happen or? Because if it did then he practically just told you that he didn’t give one single fuck.

Making your way back to your room, you’re unsure on how to feel about everything that just happened because sure you’ve encountered your fair share of rude people before but to live with one was a completely different story. And Jungkook wasn’t only rude, he was the smug kind, the “I know I’m good looking, so I can treat anyone the way I want to because my good looks will let me get away with it,” type of rude. Was it a little specific? Yes. But it’s true. Honestly, it was the type of person you thought only existed in rom-coms but clearly they exist in real life. Jungkook being a prime example of such an attitude.

“Just a couple of months,” you breathe out, throwing yourself onto your bed in exasperation, “until he gets settled down in Seoul,” you repeat Hobi’s words from New Years Eve to yourself, sighing before allowing slumber to sweep over you.  

“So much for a couple of months,” you tease Jungkook, nudging his shoulder a little bit because a year later and he was still your roommate, and ironically it was you and Hobi who practically begged him to stay.

He scrunches his nose, “ I don’t see you complaining.”

You raise your hands in defense, “I’m just kiddinnn,” you sing, “What would I do without your buttermilk pancakes huh?” you grin at him, his eyes rolling playfully in return.

“Is that all you want from me? Pancakes!” he chuckles, “Ah I should’ve known,” he shakes his head. The two of you giggle at each other’s banter, his high pitched laugh truly infectious.

“What do you think y/n and Jungkook from the beginning of 2019 would think of this scene right now?” you ask, knowing the answer.

Jungkook ponders at the question for a moment before letting out a deep breath and answering, “Mm I think they’d have a hard time believing what’s in front of them, at least I would. I think you would be happy to see that your goal in becoming friends with your new roommate worked out just fine. It just took a bit of time was all…”

February 2019.

To say that you were struggling to live with Jungkook would probably be the biggest understatement of the year. From the constant use of your things without permission, to the blatant rude remarks he’d constantly throw at you, to the days where he’d be completely cold to you and the rest of the world, and don’t even let you get started on the constant women he’d bring over. You’d have to invest in some ear plugs soon if it kept going at the rate it was because at this point you knew Jungkook liked it um … rough … so to speak.  

You found yourself asking Hobi, “Has he settled down yet?” wayyyy too often. Sometimes it felt like Jungkook was purposely baiting you to stoop to his level, like as if he was itching to play a game of cat and mouse. And so for you to continuously suck it up and put on a fake smile for him, only made him do more things to bother you. 

He was like a mosquito pestering you at the back of your neck. He wouldn’t stop until he got his fangs, or whatever it was that mosquitos used to bite, into you. For what reason? You truly did not know, for you have been nothing but nice to him since the day he moved in.

You often wondered how Hobi could put up with it, you mean Jungkook wasn’t exactly mean to Hobi, but he did throw remarks and eye rolls here and there. The best way to describe it was that Jungkook was treating you two like punching bags, and a part of you wanted to know why? Not only why, but where? Where is Jungkook from? Why was he in the states? What made him come back? Why can’t he go back to Busan? Does he have family? How does Hobi even know the dude? Why does Jungkook wake up with a stick up his ass every morning? Why was Jungkook angry at the world and when did he decide that he was going to take it out on you two, especially you. Honestly you were unsure if you’d ever get answers to your questions, but it wouldn’t matter in a couple of weeks when he was gone, right?

Luckily though the only times you really did see Jungkook was on weekends, and even then if you weren’t out doing some nightly festivities then he was. Or while you went grocery shopping he was working out or something, Not to mention that weekdays you worked AM shifts at your job while Jungkook, who had been hooked up with a job at one of the coffee shop’s Hobi managed, worked afternoon to night shifts. 

This meant that whenever you were going to work, Jungkook was catching up on his sleep and vice versa. But occasionally when you two did bump paths, let’s say going to your restroom, he definitely used those opportunities to try and get under your skin. Each and every time, failing to do so.

But today something was different. You weren’t sure if it was because as you were driving to work, coffee spilled onto your shirt at a speed bump because someone stole your favorite coffee thermo which had a securable lid. This then caused you to be 30 minutes late which then resulted in you receiving your first ever official warning. Or maybe it was because you had to not only stay an extra 30 minutes, but an extra hour because someone’s late night hook up the night prior kept you up and completely unfocused. You personally had chosen to go to sleep than stay up and listen to some girl screaming about how much deeper she wanted it while trying to type up your monthly report. And then of course who could forget the cherry on top? Coming back home to that same certain someone, and having to deal with the accusations that you stole his banana milk.

“I didn’t steal anything,” you mumble, warming up the japchae Hobi had left for you on the stove. Jungkook gets up and opens the fridge door, dramatically showing you the empty spot where his banana milk was usually at.

“Well someone did, and Hobi says it wasn’t him and well I trust Hobi so,” Jungkook shrugs, looking at you with a deadpan look on his face. Sadly, Hobi probably asleep already, tired from what you assumed was a long day of work and the thing about Hobi was once he went to sleep there was no waking him up. That boy could sleep through the world ending, “I don’t exactly think it’s beneath you to steal my things…” he says, each one of his words dripping with venom.

You?! Stealing his things?! When he’s the one who's been taking your things left and right?? If he had caught you on any other day, you probably would’ve shrugged his accusations off, hell you might’ve even taken the blame and offer to buy him a new pack. But right now, you could feel your blood almost boiling. How dare he!

“I,” your voice rises, completely ready to go off on the boy, until you hear a door slam, Hobi coming out completely groggy and clearly annoyed.

“Will you two just,” his voice is heavy, sighing in frustration, “Y/N just go and eat in your room,” he says, feeling like a parent to two fighting siblings.

“But—” you’re about to fight your case, until Hobi interrupts.

“Y/N…” he looks at you in despair, his tone a clear indicator that he wasn’t mad, he wasn’t annoyed, he was just tired. You grab your food from the stove, having to pass by Jungkook as you leave the kitchen.

“Was little miss saccharine finally going to pop?” he scoffs, the two of you momentarily having a stare down, until quickly you compose yourself, the fake smile he knew all too well back on your face.

“Goodnight Jungkook,” you say, before making your way back into your room, peeved that Hobi scolded you and not Jungkook, that was until you heard the sound of muffled voices through your closed door. 

If you wanted to get a better listen you were going to have to crack open the door without making a single sound, something that would be embarrassing if you managed to fail. Deciding that you were too nosy for your own good, you thankfully succeed in doing so, their voices sounding much clearer to your ears.    

“You know she’s having a bad day, and yet—” you hear the sound of Hobi flapping his arms in despair, “and yet you still make her your target of the day,” he says.

“What are you talking about?” Jungkook asks, his voice telling you that he was ready to go on the defense.

“Jungkook let’s not act dense,” Hobi says, “What are we in preschool? You have some crush, and think being mean will get you your way with her?” Hobi accuses, which Jungkook immediately denies.

“She wishes,” he mumbles in return, “I treat her like I treat everyone,” he clarifies, almost sounding proud.

“No you treat her worse,” Hobi adds, “if you’re not giving her some backhanded compliment then you’re completely giving her the cold shoulder. I probably only get half of what she does, and even I’m getting fed up with it, so I could only imagine how she feels,” he sighs, “but Y/N is a very very nice person, and since that first day I met her in till even today, I have never seen her get mad at anyone, but you my friend are,” he pauses, trying to think of the best way to describe it, “well you’re pushing buttons that I’ve never seen pushed.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Yeah because her whole act of “I’m miss goody two shoes and can never even hurt a fly” act is such bullshit,” he drops his air quotes, “a grown ass woman acting like telling someone off will add some kind of dent to the image I’m sure has taken her a very long time to build.”

With every word he says, you could feel your stomach drop further and further down. The lump in your throat desperate to be let out. “She probably has you and the rest of the world fooled, but I can see right through it. It’s people like her who will lie to your face, and tell you everything you want to hear because they don’t want to be painted out as some bad guy. And let me tell you people like that are much worse than me because at least I have the balls to tell it like it is to someone’s face rather than protect my own ego, ” he finishes his rant, the veins on his neck faintly popping.

Hobi remains silent for a moment, taking in everything Jungkook said, then pushing his hair back with his hand, an indicator that he was stressed, “Look man, I’m letting you stay here so you can get back on your feet, and because you didn’t want go back to Busan,” he sighs, knowing he’s stepping on broken glass, “I don’t know what happened over there in the states, and I’m not gonna ask about it because I’m sure you’ll talk about it the day you’re ready to,” he pauses, “But what I do know is that you’re right, Y/N does fake her persona from time to time…” you feel your heart drop, while Jungkook’s face goes smug. That is until Hobi continued with what he was saying, “But the same way I’m not gonna ask you about why you came back to Korea a completely cold person, I’m not gonna question why she acts the way it does, especially because it's not hurting anyone.”

“Of course you wo—”

Hobi cuts him off before he can continue, “Let me finish,” he sternly says, his brows knitted, “But as long she keeps letting her feelings build up the way I’m assuming they are, and you keep acting the way you are now then—” he sighs, “There’s going to be a day where the water in the pot is going to boil over and well I don’t wanna be here when it happens,” his presses his lips together, shaking his head at the mere idea, “All I ask for Jungkook is that you try to be a little nicer to her, just for once. I think the two of you would actually be pleasantly surprised at how much in common you have,” Jungkook tries his best to bite his tongue, seeing just how tired his friend looked, “Maybe not even nice to her, just decent. Can you do me that favor?”

Jungkooks lets out a huff of air before silently nodding his head yes, Hobi giving him a small smile in return, “Thanks Jungkook, now I can actually go to sleep instead of hearing you two bicker,” he says before tapping on his shoulder and going back into his room. You, on the other hand, quickly wipe any droplets that fall from your eyes, closing the door before Hobi could notice the crack that was there.

Jungkook sits in the kitchen chair for a while, reflecting on the lecture Hobi just gave him. Hating that the feeling of guilt was beginning to seep in because unlike Hobi, before his little lecture, Jungkook knew that there had been a pair of ears listening in and he knew you could hear every word that came out of his mouth as your little attempt to crack open the door wasn’t as slick as you thought it was ….he just hadn’t cared.

“Just be decent,” Jungkook whispers to himself before turning off the kitchen lights and heading to bed. The two of you lying in your own beds at night, a lot on each other's mind.

“And to think Hobi ended up predicting everything that was going to happen,” Jungkook shakes his head, remembering his friend’s warning to him.

“That’s our Hobi,” you laugh, “always one step ahead, well when he wants to be of course,” you add, a small chuckle coming out of Jungkook’s mouth in response.

“You think he knew what he was doing the whole time?” Jungkook asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Like in terms of allowing everything to play out, you know? Because if he wanted to he could’ve kicked me out from the beginning…” you ponder on his question for a bit, thinking back to Hobi’s role in this whole tale.

“Mm I think he knew but was probably unsure the whole time, you know? Unsure if things would work out the way he set em up to be, I don’t know if he’ll ever tell us but…” you pause, “I think he knew what he was doing from the moment he told you that you could live with us, and I definitely think it was bullshit on his part when he said that he didn’t know what happened to you in the states,” you laugh because you could picture Hobi doing his own research on Google late at night, “So I guess he just knew that there were two people in his life in desperate need of a…” you look for the right word to describe it.

“Reality check?” Jungkook fills in for you, but you shake your head no.

“Mm,” you hum, “No, I dont think thats the way to put it, hmm, how about this…” you pause one last time before continuing, wanting to make sure you said everything correctly, “Hobi had two pieces to a puzzle that needed to connect together in order to complete said puzzle, but after lots of tosses and turns in their box well the two pieces just didn’t fit together anymore. In fact they refused to even try and fit with another, deciding that they were going to live with their new flaps and dents, and ignoring the fact that in order to complete the puzzle they needed to come together,” you let out a small laugh, “and so Hobi took a gamble, and decided to leave the pieces alone for the time being, in hopes that maybe, just maybe with a little bit more tosses and turns they’d realize that by coming together they’d be left with nothing but a beautiful image to show,” a warm smile appears on your face, “Yeah I think I like how that sounds, what do you think?” you turn to face Jungkook who was staring at you with his doe-eyed expression, completely speechless.

“Or was I too wordy?” you laugh, “I reached didn’t I?” you begin to ramble, “Ah I really need to—” suddenly you feel a cold finger pressed against your lips, Jungkook sounding a tiny “shh” soon after.

“I think it was perfect,” Jungkook softly whispers, what could only be described as a loving smile on his face. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, feeling your cold face get warmed up due to the heat that was rising from your cheeks. Reminding you of a memory from only months ago…

March 2019.

“Remind me why I’m going again?” you walk out of the hallway and into the living room, heels clicking against the wooden floor.

“Because you are tonight’s designated driver,” Hobi reminds you, “and well we all don’t fit in Seokjin’s mini cooper so there’s that,” he laughs. You sigh in return, looking at your reflection for the 100th time tonight. “Jungkook, you almost ready?” Hobi shouts from the living room, not keen on his friend’s habit of always getting ready at the last minute.

Tonight was one of, if not the only, rare occasions that both you and Jungkook would be at an outing together, and even then Hobi was always with you two, acting as the facilitator. Jungkook and you usually parted your separate ways the moment you’d arrive somewhere, especially at parties. And so today you didn’t really expect anything different. 

It had been about a month since Hobi’s little lecture to Jungkook, and in a way it did have some kind of positive effect on Jungkook. These days he was now much more quiet and reserved, and honestly you preferred the cold shoulder over the constant attitude so you were definitely not complaining.

You were even surprised this morning when you found your bathroom products to be completely replaced by new bottles, including your serum! Of course they had been slightly used, meaning Jungkook wasn’t going to let go of his grip on them just yet, but at least it meant that he had the decency to realize that if he was going to be using them all the time, then it was only right that he occasionally paid for them. 

Even last week when you heard him mumble a small, “that was good, thank you,” after making gyeran-mari’s for breakfast, you had to look at Hobi for confirmation that it really happened. Hell, he had even stopped constantly bringing women over, instead beginning to work out more often as you would now hear his grunts come from doing sit ups than from doing um… yeah. It looked like he even had a knack for boxing because you soon noticed how he’d come back home with hands wrapped in bandages or his gloves stringing along his duffel bag. Honestly, it was a little hot, but you’d rather die before admitting that to anyone.

“Ah I’m done, I’m done,” a voice comes out the hallway, Jungkook balancing on his right foot in a rush to put on his left shoe. Tonight he was dressed a little differently than his usual self, replacing his usual black attire and black combat boots for a more club friendly look of ripped blue jeans, black ankle boots, and a black fitted t-shirt. Of course not straying too far from his personal style. The new tattoo he had gotten recently was also in clear view tonight, his sleeve coming along quite nice in your opinion. He had recently even gotten his hair permed, allowing it to grow out longer than what you were used to seeing. It was crazy what a difference hair could make because it definitely made him look … better, in your eyes at least. 

All this change on his part, honestly made you feel a little dull, but that’d be something to dwell on for another day. For now, you just wanted to get tonight over with. The faster you got there, the quicker you could leave, and the earlier you could be in bed.  

“You took a whole ass hour for this?” Hobi eyes Jungkook up and down. Jungkook is quick to shoot him an offended look, while you on the other hand are struggling to suppress a laugh, “I’m not saying you look bad, in fact you look amazing, but this should not take you an hour!” Jungkook rolls his eyes, combing a hand through his hair.

“Are we going to get going or what?” he says, his cheeks tinged pink in embarrassment.

Once you all arrived, you were quick to meet up with the rest of your friends, everyone having pitched in for bottle service. Jungkook, who had become pretty cool with the rest of everyone, sat between Yoongi and Namjoon, all three of them laughing at God knows what. The bottle they had bought almost halfway done. 

You on the other hand, were just watching everyone, the only person besides yourself who wasn’t drunk was Seokjin, and even then he was too busy with his new girlfriend to pay you any attention. Not that you really minded considering she really was a kind person and well who could blame Seokjin for being head over heels. They even shared the same humor, something that was quite rare to find.

You weren’t sure if it was because tonight the club seemed extra packed, or maybe the dress you were wearing was feeling a little too tight or maybe it was the stench of all alcohol getting to you but something definitely fell off. And you did not like it one bit.

“Hey I’m gonna go out back and get some fresh air outside,” you tell Hobi over the music, giving you a small nod in acknowledgement, the boy was clearly very drunk. The moment you stepped out, you definitely did feel better, the crispy fresh air outside almost making you feel as if you were breathing for the first time. That was until you heard the sound of someone arguing.

“I saw you dancing with her! Stop trying to gaslight me into thinking you weren’t!” a woman screams, very much in distress by who you assumed was her boyfriend, “God, I knew I should’ve listened to my mom, you are a pig! And I deserve a man who's going to—

“What did you just say?” he grabs her by the arm, his atrocious grip surely going to cause her a bruise later on.

“Let go of me!” she cries, as he then grabs her by the hair, ready to toss her to the floor and do whatever else he wanted to do with her. You feel your breathing become heavier, watching the scene unfold in front of you, unsure of what to do. You were scared and you didn’t know how to defend yourself, let alone someone else. But you also knew that God forbid you were ever in that situation, you wouldn't want someone turning a blind eye on you, so you did what was only right.

“Hey!” you scream while walking towards the couple, catching the man’s attention, “Let go of her before I—”

“Before you what?” he lets go of her hair, now walking towards you as well. The woman watches you with shaky eyes, having never guessed that her savior would be a woman in black string heels and a face that for the most part was not at all intimidating.

You reach into your purse, hoping to get a feel for either your taser or pocket knife, but of course, of fucking course, on all days of the year it was no where to be found. Nonetheless, you muster up your courage and respond, “Before I call security,” you say, trying your best to sound confident.

He laughs, dramatically looking around to show you that no one around was here to help, “Anyone ever teach you to mind your fucking business, like how a woman should,” you gulp, almost losing balance while taking a step back as he only gets closer, “Huh?! Anyone every fucking teach you that?” he closes in on you, your back soon hitting the wall that was behind you.

“Just leave her alone!” the woman screams in hysteria.

“You stay the fuck out of it! You’re the whole reason she’s in this mess,” he mutters, his words completely slurred and his breath reeking like alcohol. You almost feel like vomiting at the accidental whiff you take because wow was this man just disgusting.

“See maybe if you would’ve just gone about your day, you wouldn’t be here right now,” he makes a ticking sound with his mouth, mocking you, “but” he sighs, “I guess whores just have to stick with each other, huh?” he grabs you by the scalp of your hair, this time not hesitating to throw you to the ground.

“Oh my—” the woman screams, panic flowing through her veins.

“Go!” you yell at her, giving her the chance to escape even if it meant sacrificing your own wellbeing. She hesitates for a moment before running, the sound of her heels tapping against the pavement was one of the last things you could hear before the ringing in your ears became all too much. 

You look at your hands for a moment, the stinging feeling almost unbearable as they had taken most of the impact of the fall, along with your knees. A part of you hoped he had left, that he had somehow magically disappeared or that you’d wake up to find that this was nothing more than a nightmare. But it wasn’t until you felt the grip of his hand on your hair again, that you’d come to realize the reality of your situation and that there was absolutely no one to help you.

The man lifts up his free hand, building power for the punch he was preparing to throw, as you could only throw your arms in front yourself in an attempt to minimize the impact of the punch. By now tears were falling from freely your eyes, small whimpers and sniffles coming out of fear. The final words you hear being spat from his mouth were, “you stupid bitch,” and in your head you count to three, waiting for the feeling of his fist against your face. But it never came.

Instead you feel the release of his hand on your scalp, and when you open your eyes you find him on the ground, not completely knocked out but he might as well be with just how out of it he looked. And though you weren’t drunk, you almost felt as if you were because absolutely everything around you was overlapping, hardly able to see anything in clear focus. But what you could make out was that there was a figure, and by the build you assume was a man, now sitting over the drunkard, throwing several punches at him. His goal was either to knock the man out or make sure he suffered every way possible before knocking him out.  

You stand there for a moment in shock as you hear the person’s voice, a voice that was all too familiar, “I dare you to fucking lay a hand on her again, I fucking dare you!” Jungkook yells, throwing another punch at the man, “Who the fuck do you think you are?” slowly your vision becomes clearer as you wipe away the tears that had been blocking your vision, and soon you realize if Jungkook kept going at the rate he was, the man was going to be killed.

Quickly you run towards Jungkook, attempting to grab his right arm before he swings again, “Jungkook stop!” you yell, but instead he pushes your arm away, too caught up in his rage to think straight. The drunk man looked as if he was barely holding on, blood now all over his face. “I said stop!” you yell at the top of your lungs, the veins on your neck popping. Jungkook, panting, looks up at you, momentarily stopping. “Just stop,” you cry, wanting this nightmare to be over.

Jungkook looks at the barely conscious man one more time, pulling him by the collar of his shirt so that he’d get a good look of him, “If I ever see you again, I won’t hesitate to—”

“Jungkook,” you stop him from finishing his sentence.

He sighs, “Just be glad she’s here because scum like you deserve to fucking rot,” he says, letting go of the man’s collar and allowing his head to hit the pavement. He gets up from his position and begins to pat his black shirt of any dirt, catching his breath along the way. “You okay?” he asks, intensely staring at you.

But before you could respond, a voice screams, “Hey!” the two of you look up at said voice, only to find a security guard with a flashlight in his hand and his walky talky on the other.

Jungkook quickly grabs you by the hand, causing you to wince at the sudden touch, “Come on,”  he says, pulling you to follow him.

He leads you back to the parking lot, confusion evidently on your face. It wasn’t until you turned back to find several security guards following after you that everything began to click together, panic now flowing through your veins. Hurriedly, you grab Hobi’s keys from your purse and unlock the door, your heart beating out of your chest.

Jungkook quickly hops in the passenger seat, his head throbbing from the amount of drinks he’s had, watching as you struggle to put the key in the ignition, clearly in a state of anxiousness. He yanks the keys from your hands and places them in himself, “Now drive!” he shouts, causing you to step ferociously on the gas pedal. Burning tire as you race off the parking lot.  

“God my head is fucking killing me,” Jungkook complains, his blood stained hands resting on his temple. By now the two of you were heading back home, Jungkook having texted Hobi through your phone that he was going to have to get a ride from Seokjin. For the situation you two were just in had required an immediate escape.

You on the other hand were driving in complete silence, still in a state of shock of what just happened. Jungkook having to constantly remind you that you were driving, several instances of you zoning out at a stop light happening way too often for his liking.

“I am way too drunk for this shit,” he mutters under his breath, the reality of what just happened beginning to kick in. The queasy feeling in his stomach became more and more unbearable with every turn you took. And don’t even get him started on his throat, which was currently as dry as the Sahara Desert. “Is there some kind of water in this car?” he asks, beginning to look through the car console and glove compartment.

“I don’t,” you pause and sigh, “I don’t know.”

“Then pull over here,” he deadpans.

You furrow your brows in confusion, “What?”

“Pull over,” he repeats, his patience running out.

Not questioning him a second time, you do exactly that, pulling over at the side of some park near your apartment. Jungkook takes in a deep breath before opening the door and sticking his head out, seconds later the sound of him vomiting making you feel as queasy as he did.

“Oh God,” you mumble to yourself, just wanting to be in bed already. But of course that wasn’t going to happen because soon enough Jungkook was getting out of the car and going to God knows where. “Where are you going?” you shout, as he walks towards the park.

“I need water,” he says, “You coming or what?” you contemplate on whether to follow him or not, before ultimately exiting the car and locking it. With the way he was stumbling his footsteps, it was better safe than sorry to follow him.

“BogoShipda!” Jungkook sings loudly to the trees in the park, all of the alcohol he drank at the club still running through his system. You stare at him in surprise, having never seen him act like this before, as he continues to sing.

“Now where’s a water fountain when you need one,” he mumbles, the darkness of the night sky making it hard for him to scan his surrounding area. You found yourself feeling a little scared in fact. The silhouette of the trees and the sound of the wind softly pushing against the branches only making the atmosphere more scary.

“Ah there it is!” Jungkook slurs his words, sounding like a kid at a carnival. Once he’s in front of the fountain, he pushes against the button, the water sprouting out of the fountainhead. You stare at him in silence as he hadn’t crouched down to drink yet, thus confusing you.

It wasn’t until you felt a tug at your hand and the sting of the water hitting against your scrapes that you felt like punching him. “What are you doing?” you ask, trying your best not to sound too peeved.

He looks at you before rolling his eyes, “What do you think I’m doing? I’m cleaning your hands,” he signals for you to give him your other hand, and without thinking you comply.

“I could’ve done this at home,” you say.

“I know, but the longer we wait the higher chance it'll end up getting infected by dirt so,” he looks at you with a know it all expression, and you mumble a small “I guess,” under your breath, the stinging sensation soon enough replaced by a cool one, your hands no longer feeling as rusty.

It isn’t until he’s finished that he takes a sip of water, exhaling a small “ahh” sound after downing several gulps. “Come on,” he grabs your hand again, leading you to a park bench with a small lamppost right next to it, providing a smooth yellow dim light.

“Why are we—”

“I just want to sit for a moment without the movement of a car, just for a bit,” he exhales a heavy breath, manspreading on the bench and throwing his head back, “just for a bit,” he repeats, his voice soft.

The two of you sit there in silence, “Why are you staring at me?” he asks with his eyes closed, feeling your intense stare.  

“I’m not—I’m not staring,” you stutter, he hums in response. Silence fills the air again, until Jungkook mumbles something that at first is inaudible.

“What?” you ask.

“I said I’m ˢᵒʳʳʸ,” you look at him confused, were you hearing him correctly?

“Wait what?” you ask again, it wasn’t your intention to come off as pushy nor pretentious but you were just seriously surprised as to what you were hearing.

He grumbles before repeating himself, “I said,” he drops his shoulders, “I said I’m sorry.” He opens his eyes to look at you, his usual smug behavior nowhere to be found on his face, he was being completely serious.

“Oh…” you pause for a moment before continuing, “Can I ask for what? I’m not trying to be mean or anything or act dense. I seriously just don’t know why,” you make sure you add those claims at the end, feeling as if you were walking on eggshells.

He looks at you momentarily before placing his view on the trees in front of you, “For not getting there earlier,” he mutters, as if disappointed with himself, “I went out because Hobi had told me to go check up on you, but,” he stays silent for a moment before continuing, clenching his jaw, “at first I sorta shrugged him off when he asked me, it wasn’t until he asked me second time that I actually went outside,” his voice shakes a bit and you notice that his eyes become slightly glossy, “and then a woman came running up to me rambling about someone about to get beaten up, but the last person I thought she was talking about was you,” he exhales loudly before continuing, trying his best to maintain his composure, “but either way I ran towards wherever she was pointing at, and that’s when I saw you on the floor,” his voice cracks, “and I just keep replaying everything in my head, and I just—” he closes his eyes and shakes his head, “I’m just sorry and I felt like you deserved to know that,” he concludes, a tear falling from his face.

And maybe it was because he was drunk, or maybe he just really did feel bad, but to see Jungkook this vulnerable was different to say the least. It was almost humanizing in some aspects.

Jungkook expected you to scream at him, to tell him that it was his fault you were put in that situation. That he could’ve prevented it from happening, that because of him you almost got beat to a bloody pulp.

No, in fact he doesn't expect you to, he wants you to. It’s what he deserves to hear from you. Had it not been for him and his ego, he would’ve gone out there the moment Hobi had asked him to, and you would’ve never had to deal with that drunk excuse of a human being to begin with. Or was the alcohol in his system just seriously getting to him because God did he feel sick.

“Jungkook it’s not your fault,” you begin, but Jungkook who's still looking at the trees, refuses to make eye contact. “Hey look at me,” you demand, tugging his hand in an effort to get him to look at you. When he does so, you continue, “That man was going to attack me whether you came or not because a weak man like that will attack the easiest target,” you state, a small chuckle escaping your lips, “It was no one’s fault but his, you hear me?” you squeeze his hand, “Not yours, not mine, not Hobi’s, not the lady, no one. Absolutely no one.”

More tears begin to fall from his bloodshot eyes, “You don’t get it y/n,” he shakes his head, “You don’t what that man could’ve done to you in that time I wasn’t there, you could’ve been killed for God’s sake,” he attempts to say it firmly, but his voice betrays him by whimpering in the end.

“But he didn’t!” you say, and without thinking you place his hand on your cheek, “I’m right here look! All because of you! Yeah you didn’t get there as early as you wished you could’ve, but you got there nonetheless! And if you hadn’t I probably would be sporting a big old black eye on my face and have one cheek bigger than the other right now. I’d look like one of those chipmunks from Alvin and the Chipmunks!” you laugh at your own joke, and for the first time ever, Jungkook laughs with you. His last first starting off as a small chuckle but the harder you laughed, the harder he did. The beginning to what would be you always hearing his high pitched laugh around the apartment, but let’s not get too far ahead right now.

They say when a human is drunk, they muster up the courage to do something they’d never do sober, but have always thought of doing in the back of their mind. It was often why people would blame a bold text to an ex on being “drunk” despite not taking one sip of their tequila shot, or why some people would excuse cheating on being “drunk” despite knowing it was something they wanted to do for a very long time. They were looking for an excuse to finally do it. And so now sitting here, with his hand caressed across your face, goofy grins plastered on your faces, he felt tempted to just kiss you.

It was weird really, yeah he thought you were cute, in fact there were days he’d found you hot, but anything past physical attraction had never really crossed his mind. To him, you’d always been and currently were his roommate who he found both superficial and performative. 

The one who once attempted to hide her strawberry scented shampoo in her room during work, in hopes that he wouldn’t go out of his way to find it. The one who liked her jjolmyeon more on the sour side than the sweet. The one who occasionally made him coffee and breakfast in the mornings, despite him being asleep after a long night of work of barristering. The one who for some odd reason almost never watched Netflix on the TV, but instead would watch it on her laptop on the couch, thus rendering the TV completely useless.

And so to be here, finally appreciating the person that you were after what could’ve been a near-death experience was a bit of a wake up call. And yeah like you said, maybe he didn’t get here as early as he should’ve been, but he got here nonetheless. He smiles to himself, your words having a double meaning behind them.

But for now he wanted to preserve this feeling, because he knew he was drunk. He was so drunk that the tree behind you was beginning to look like it was moving towards him. And so rather than kiss you, he instead decides to simply tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, deciding that if he felt like this tomorrow morning when he was sober then it’d be something worth looking into.

“I’m telling you, if I ever see that man again—”

“It was like,” you count on your fingers, “9 months ago Jungkook, I doubt you even remember his face,” you cut off, patting his shoulder.

“Mm,” he hums, “you’d be surprised how good I am at remembering faces, so when I tell you I’m still waiting for the day I come across him again, I mean it!” you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you sing,  “Hey at least something good came out of it,” you smile.

Jungkook looks at you with uncertainty, “Which is?”

Your small smile then becomes a toothy grin, “We became friends!” you exclaim excitedly, “temporarily at least,” you laugh.

April 2019.

It had been about two weeks since the incident at the club. Jungkook having completely avoided you since, and no you weren’t paranoid because originally you thought you were. It first started off with you not seeing him at all around the apartment, which you excused with you two having different work schedules like always. But then you’d notice he wouldn’t even drink the coffee you would make for him in the morning, it being left there on the counter for the entire day. 

And in the very rare moments you did manage to get a glimpse of him in the hallway either entering or exiting his room, the boy would completely avoid eye contact with you! But the final confirmation that told you he was avoiding you? He had bought his own shampoo and body wash for himself! Not just any kind, he bought an extra lather version of your own with exfoliating properties. And you didn’t if you could use it or not because, well because he was avoiding you! 

It wasn’t like you two kissed or anything! The most that happened was that you two shared a laugh! So then why was he avoiding you like the freaking plague? After a week of thinking about every possible reason he could be, you had given up. You’d accepted that you were back at square one with him, but it wasn’t like you were ever at square two to begin with. And so that’s why yesterday when Hobi told you he’d be going on a morning/afternoon hike trip on Saturday with Namjoon, you were skeptical on how Jungkook would manage to avoid you.

It was also why this morning in bed, when you heard what sounded like furniture being moved at 7 in the freaking morning, you were unsure about getting up and saying something or remaining in bed. Luckily you didn’t have to think about it for too long because you soon heard the sound footsteps coming closer to your bedroom door. As a result, you quickly threw yourself under the covers and pretended to be asleep.

It definitely had to be Jungkook who had just entered your room, the heavy footsteps acting as a signal to you that it was. Your eyes widen when you hear the sound of your drawer being pulled open, “What the hell did he think he was doing? Should you turn around and scare him? Hmm. No,” you think to yourself because soon enough you felt a hand gently shake your body.

“Y/N,”  he whispers, clearly in belief that you were asleep. You let him shake you around a little more, just to make your little “I’m just waking up” act a little more believable, “Y/N,” he repeats, and this time you begin to make groggy sounds. Actress of the Year Award : Check.

“Mm,” you hum, but you’re quickly jolted awake when you feel your covers get pulled off of you, “What are you—” you look up at Jungkook, who was dressed in complete workout gear. But what really had you concerned, was the workout clothing he had folded in his hands because well they were yours.

He tosses the matching pair of black leggings and sports bra, “Go change,” he sternly says, only causing you to look at him in further confusion.

“B-b-but-” Jungkook knows you’re about to not only complain, but ask many many questions. Because that’s just the type of person you are.

“Hobi told me you like buttermilk pancakes with extra syrup, but that since yours always come out burnt and his come out too dull, that the only time you get to eat them is if you go to a breakfast restaurant,” you narrow your eyes at him, confused as to where this was leading to, “Well at the coffee shop I work at, we have a weekly Pancake Tuesday and well let’s just say a certain someone has been rated top pancake maker for 2 months now,” you quirk your brow in interest, continuing to listen, a smirk now on his face, “and let’s also say this certain someone has a stack of warm pancakes sitting there on the kitchen island, untouched and certainly uneaten.”

You quickly smile at what he was insinuating, “BUT you can only eat them if you get up, get ready and change in 5 minutes,” he looks at the clock, “starting now.” And in the blink of an eye you were up and running towards your restroom because certainly if that didn’t get you up and out of bed, he wasn’t sure what would.

Quickly you brush your teeth and fix up your hair a bit, curious to know what Jungkook had planned out. To think you thought he was avoiding you! Well he was … but that doesn’t matter anymore! Placing your shoes on you begin to make your way towards the living room, the thought of eating those buttermilk pancakes almost making your mouth drool. That was until you stepped into the living room, stopping dead in your tracks.

Your eyes glaze over everything, blinking veryyy slowly, in order to make sure you were seeing things correctly. Jungkook had transformed your living room into some kind of um … workout center? For boxing? He had everything from the red punching bag, the reflex bag, the speed ball, jump rope, mini dumbbells, and most importantly boxing mitts for some one-on-one training. Everything was an adequate enough size to fit in all into the living room, but not too big in a way that it couldn’t be stored in the extra closet you had in the hallway.

“Why did you—” Jungkook hands you a pair of shiny black boxing gloves, along with bandages.

“I’m going to teach you the basics of boxing,” he presses his lips together, “whether you like it or not,” he says.

“Jungkook I don’t thin—”

“You don’t think what?” he looks at you in a way that tells you he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“I’m not really cut out for this kind of stuff,” you try to make an excuse for yourself anyway, but he wasn’t buying it.

“Because you have no experience, which is exactly why I’m going to teach you,” his brows draw together, a stern look on his face as he now makes eye contact with you, “You can’t just always expect someone to pop out of thin air and come to your rescue y/n, what happened two weeks ago was a mix of both good timing and sheer luck,” he sighs while pulling out a taser and pocket knife from his pocket, “and though this is helpful in many situations, you seem to forget to take these with you,” he scolds, “guess where they were the night at the club?” You stay silent, “the kitchen island,” he answers for you.

“Okay I get it, I get it,” you say, “I need to learn how to protect myself without using those,” you point to the items in his hand.

“Exactly, I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he playfully pats your head, “so we’ll be doing this every weekend for the next eight weeks, from 7AM till 2PM. We might even throw an occasional weekday night in there if I don’t get out of work too late.”

“7AM?!” you shriek, “Oh no no no, you sir are crazy,” you protest, shaking your head in denial, “No amount of pancakes will have me waking up that early every weekend.”

“Oh come on! The more hours you do, the better you’ll get!” he bargains with you, catching you off guard by throwing his arm around your shoulder, your cheeks going red as a result.

“Jungkook,” you dramatically cry out, ready to stomp your feet on the floor like a little kid, the only thing preventing you was you not wanting the downstairs neighbors to come up and complain.

He tightens his grip on you, “Come onnnnn,” he sings, “I’ll let you use my new body wash with the exfoliating properties,” he teases you, having heard you complain to Hobi one morning about being unsure of whether or not you could use it. You truly were too kind for your own good, cause if the situations were reversed, Jungkook would’ve just gone ahead and used it.

You narrow your eyes at him once again, “More like you’re buying me one of my own!” you demand and he nods in agreement, “Also, where did you even manage to get all this?” you ask, genuinely curious as to how he managed to buy all this.

“Um let’s just say I have a buddy at the boxing gym who didn’t really need these anymore,” you stare at him suspiciously, but decide to shrug it off. You’d ask him more questions some other day, but for now all you wanted was to eat those pancakes!

Hobi opens the door to his shared apartment, exhausted from the hike he just had this morning and honestly ready to just hop into bed and sleep. That was until he saw the transformation of his living room in front of his very own eyes, his skin paling and mouth gaping in shock.

“What the—” he whispers, preparing to scream out your names like a parent walking in their house only to find it destroyed by their teenagers, but before he could the sound of something stops him dead in his tracks. It was the sound of soft snores.

Walking towards the sound, which seemed to be coming from the long couch, a smile immediately appears on his face when he comes to see the view in front of him. You were on one side of the couch while Jungkook was on the other, both of your feet stretched out and touching in the middle, napping away. Hobi personally thought he was dreaming, this being a view he never thought he’d see.

Wanting to preserve the memory, he grabs his phone from his pocket and opens up the camera app, snapping the photo in silence, tempted to edit and post the photo with little clouds above each other's heads and make up some witty caption. But he’d save it for some other day. For now, he was just happy you two were finally getting along.

“Ah I had forgotten how that photo came to be,” Jungkook laughs, looking at the photo on your Iphone screen, “you were tired from working out, while I was tired from having to watch you continuously mess around with the equipment,” he pokes fun at you. Not like it wasn’t true, that day you kept going back to the speed ball, aimlessly hitting it in hopes that at some point you’d magically become fast at hitting it like in the movies.

“Hey, I’m pretty decent at doing everything now,” you flash him a cheesy smile. After several weeks of consistent training and long hours, you were definitely at a point where you could adequately defend yourself from someone ranging from a small petite woman to around a medium sized man. Luckily, you haven't come across a situation that has required you to to do so nor do you ever hope to, but it was comforting to know that if something ever did happen, then you were ready. But, your taser and pocket knife would always be your first go to, no matter what.

“You’re…” Jungkook pauses, “okay,” he breathes, huffing a quiet laugh. Out of impulse you flash him the finger, showing off your freshly manicured fingers. “Aren’t you rude,” he says with a dramatic gasp.

You roll your eyes, “You’re the one who taught me,” you laugh, and Jungkook places his hand on his chest, looking at you with a dramatic offended look on his face.

“Me?” he feigns his surprise.

“Yes you! How could I forget,” you look at him accusingly.

“No I taught you how to stop faking a smile, and to start putting a foot down people’s neck,” he shrugs, “not to go sticking out the middle finger,” he jokes, and you only roll your eyes again, grumbling a small  “Mm.”

May 2019.

To your surprise, you had been managing to consistently wake up and work out every weekend with Jungkook, with him even being able to up your usual workout plan at a drastic rate. You’d shed a couple of pounds and to your surprise could even see some muscle beginning to form, but today, well today was your monthly lazy day.

Lazy day was the one day of the month where you and Hobi would push everything off your schedule, from calling off of work, to making sure everything in the apartment was clean, and buying snacks the night before in order to make sure you wouldn’t have to step out of the apartment. It was usually picked the month before by either you or Hobi closing your eyes and randomly pointing somewhere on the calendar, and whatever day your index finger managed to land on would be the day. And well today was that day.

But when Hobi told you yesterday night that a family emergency was going to have to bring lazy day to a temporary halt because he had to drive back to Busan, which in itself was a three hour trip from Seoul, you had already called the day off weeks prior as your job wasn’t as lenient on last minute call offs. The contract you signed stating in small print, “any day off must be requested, sent in, and approved 2 weeks prior to the date said employee is asking for.”

And so this morning when Jungkook entered your room to find you completely knocked out with drool coming out of your mouth, he was surprised to say the least. On weekday mornings, he would almost always wake up to find himself alone in the apartment considering both you and Hobi have day jobs, so hearing snores come out of your room had definitely caught him off guard.

He debated on whether he should be annoying and wake you up and then force you to work out or be a nice roommate and make you breakfast. Let’s just say he didn’t choose the latter. Grabbing one of the stuffed animals that you weren’t hugging, he throws it at your head, a grunt coming out of your mouth after.

“Jungkook,” you mutter, morning voice in full effect, “let me sleep please,” you say, switching to the other side, in hopes that he’d leave.

“No, you need to work out,” he says, beginning to nag.

Turning around again, this time to face him, you look at him with your eyes half-way open, “Today’s lazy day,” you deadpan, his eyes narrow in confusion.

“What the hell is, quote on quote, lazy day?” he asks, lifting a brow. Rubbing your eyes along with eye boogers in the corners, you begin to stretch your arms and legs, not caring if he was staring.

Sighing once you were ready to respond, you then answer, “Lazy day is the one day of the month that me and Hobi take a day off of work to well … be lazy,” he stares at you with an innocent look on his face, “butttttt,” a mischievous smile appears on your face, “since Hobi cancelled on me, now you’re going to be lazy partner for the day.” His face twists in bewilderment.

“Huh?”

“You heard me, go call the café, and tell em you’re taking the day off,” you smile, now getting up from bed.

“And why would I do that?” Jungkook asks, the question coming off a little harsher than intended, but you were quick to shrug it off, already accustomed to the occasional attitude.

“Becauseeeeee,” you sing, “When was the last time you’ve taken a day off, I mean look at you right now! You’re already dressed comfortably,” you eye him up and down, he was currently in work out clothing which for him consisted of an oversized grey sweater and joggers, “do you really wanna get all sweaty and then have to shower, change, and go to work… cause I don’t think you do,” you raise your eyebrows up and down in a teasing manner as he avoids eye contact with you.

His eyes look around your room, clearly thinking to himself. A lazy day huh? Hmm you did make a point, he really couldn’t remember the last time he’s just lounged around and done nothing, as he was always doing something whether it be working out, working, going out, etc.

He looks back at you once he’s made his decision, letting out a huff of air, “Fine,” he says, grabbing his phone from his pocket, preparing to dial the coffee shop, a tiny squeal coming from you.

“I thought lazy day meant no going out,” Jungkook complains while pushing the grocery cart around, following you and your need to go up and down each and every aisle at the store.

“It does, but since Hobi and I couldn’t go grocery shopping the night before,” you grab some strawberry lemonade from the freezer and place it in the cart, “someone has to help carry the groceries up the stairs,” you catch him rolling his eyes, “your eyes will get stuck up there if you keep doing that,” you comment, grabbing packaged ramen from the counter beside you.

“Yeah, Yeah—” Jungkook stares at what’s in your hands wide eyed, “No, no, no! What are you doing?” You jump in surprise, dropping the package on the floor.

“Wh-what?” your face flushes in surprise, his outburst completely catching you off guard.

“Shin Ramyun?! What happened to getting Paldo Bibimmyeon?! Do you have no loyalty?” he scrunches his face up, in clear distress at what he just caught you doing. At first you don’t think he’s serious, this being some stupid joke he was making, but once you got a glimpse of the stare he was giving you, you’d soon come to realize that he was not playing around at all.

“It’s be-be-because,” you begin to stutter under his scrutiny, “these are buy three, get two free,” you lopsidedly smile, an awkward laugh feigning from your lips.  He shakes his head, snatching the ramen from your hands and placing it on its original spot before then grabbing his Paldo Bibimmyeon.

“Choosing price over quality, are you crazy?” he mutters under his breath before pushing the cart past you and making his way to the checkout line, leaving you there momentarily flabbergasted.

Once you caught up to him you were ready to tell him something until you heard the sound of someone calling your name, “Y/N?” you turn around, surprised to see Jimin in the line next to you.

“Oh Jimin!” you smile, softly waving at the newly blonde-haired boy, his roots telling you that the hair job was recent. Jimin offers his hand out to Jungkook. Jungkook, at first hesitant, shakes it in return, “You remember Jimin, right? He was with us on New Years, he was supposed to come partying with us last time, but he flaked last minute,” Jungkook slowly nods remembering the boy wrapping his arm around you during the countdown while Jimin on the other hand raises his hands to his defense.

“Even a person like me can get burnt out every here and then,” he laughs, “but next time I’ll be sure to be on the dance floor,” he winks at you, his natural flirty personality making its appearance. Jungkook awkwardly coughs, pushing the cart forward to get your attention back in the moving line.

You feel your hands get a bit clammy, Jimin always being someone you did have a bit of a crush on, never pursuing anything because of your long-term friendship with him. But of course that didn’t mean he didn’t get an occasional blush out of you here and there. “So how have you been since the last time I saw you? It’s been quite a while—”

And just as you’re about to answer, Jungkook interrupts, “Y/N,” he says, nudging you to tell you that it was time to pay.

“Ah I guess I’ll just see you around then,” Jimin chuckles, waving a small goodbye.

“O-oh yeah I guess I—”

“Y/N,” Jungkook repeats, unbeknownst to you, the green eyed monster was beginning to make its appearance. Any longer and horns would probably start sprouting out his ears.

Once you two finish paying and bagging everything, you walk towards Jungkook’s new black Hyundai which he had bought only a couple of weeks ago after months of what he calls “busting his ass” off and using most of his savings up for. You hum a tiny tune while helping him place all the bags in the trunk.

“So…” Jungkook awkwardly begins, second guessing whether he should continue asking the question he had in his mind before deciding to just do it anyway, “Is that like your boyfriend or something?”

Immediately you stop humming, staring at Jungkook wide-eyed, “Oh no, no!” you quickly deny, “No, No, no,” you repeat, shaking your head. The redness of your cheeks tell another story.

“Hm,” Jungkook mumbles, “sorta looked like it,” he deadpans before going to put the cart in its designated spot, leaving you there confused as to what that meant. 

After a couple of hours of lounging around in the apartment and binging Narcos: Mexico on the TV rather than your laptop because of Jungkook’s complaints, the two of you were now eating your ramen on the kitchen island, quietly seated on the tall chairs. The sound of Jungkook slurping his noodles filling the room.

“What did you mean by Jimin being my boyfriend or something?” you suddenly ask out of nowhere, the question having been on your mind for a majority of the day.

Jungkook takes a final gulp of his food before responding, “I don’t know,” he nonchalantly shrugs, “you were gawking at him like a schoolgirl seeing her crush in the hallway,” he says, “thought you two had something going on, or at least on your part,” he reiterates.  

“I did not stare at him like some schoolgirl!” you deny, taking offense to his analogy, “He’s j-jus—”

“J-just someone you clearly have a crush on,” he mocks your flusteredness, “I see and here a part of me thought it thought it was two-sided,” he smirks.

“It’s not sided on either way,” you protest, “Jimin is just a friend,” you clarify, putting your foot down.  

“How do you even know the dude?” he asks. He knew you and Hobi met during college, and that Hobi was in some club with Yoongi and Namjoon which explains how you met them. He also knew that Seokjin and Taehyung came into the picture after some college frat party, but Jimin, well he didn’t know too much about Jimin. Just that he clearly felt comfortable enough to have his arm around you during New Years.

“I met him during my first year of performing at Busan Arts College, that was before I transferred to Seoul National where I’d then meet Hobi,” Jungkook’s ears perk up, several questions now running through his head.

“An arts college? In Busan?”

“Yeah, like a school for dance majors, drawing, theatre, music, film, modelling, sports, interior design, animation, and et cetera,” you smile softly while explaining, “I was an art major, painting to be specific, and along the scopes of watercolors and abstractness.”

Jungkook hums, his curiosity still not completely fulfilled, “So why’d you transfer?” he asks the big question.

“Oh..” you know you shouldn’t be, but for some reason you are slightly taken back by his blunt question, “because..” you sigh, “um something happened that well um I just thought it’d be best to transfer, and well my math skills weren’t too rusty for the entrance exam and my credits were exceptional for transferring and so I just took the leap and left. Met Hobi, we became roommates, decided to stay roommates even after graduating and well now I’m an accountant.”

Jungkook stays silent for a moment, surprised that there was more to you than meets the eye. He would’ve never guessed that you were into painting, “I stayed in touch with Jimin, introduced him to my new group of friends and well yeah, that’s that,” you finish explaining, “He was a dance major, just in case you were curious,” you add, “He now works at a contemporary dance company here in Seoul, very deep with connections in the arts industry,” So that’s who Jimin was huh? Cool... but now Jungkook was much more curious about you.

“Do you ever paint?” he asks another question, completely finished with his meal and at this point only staying for the conversation. It was weird, had it been anyone else asking you these questions you wouldn't have dared entertain it any further, probably finding some way to maneuver out of it. But for Jungkook to ask whether it be from a place of nosiness or simple curiosity, hell maybe even boredom, for some reason you just didn’t mind.

“Um not really, not anymore at least, especially these days that work is beginning to pile up but,” you hesitate for a moment before continuing, “I still have some of my old work somewhere under my bed, probably in a storage box knowing me.”

“Can I see them?”

And just as you’re about to answer, your phone’s ringing sound goes off. The person calling? Jimin. You hesitate to answer, glancing at Jungkook who was staring at your phone, presumably reading the name. Once he does, he looks at you in a way that was asking, “Are you going to pick up?”

You click the green button to accept, “Hello?”

“Y/N?” Jimin asks, unsure if it was you.

“Yes?”

“Hey! Um so I was actually meaning to call for quite a while,” Jungkook tries his best not to make it obvious that he’s listening in, “and so when I ran into you and your friend at the market it served as a complete reminder.”

“Oh what for?” you ask politely.

“Well I was hoping we could catch up over some dinner, and then I could tell you something very important that I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time,” From Jimin? “I was thinking this Saturday like at 7? I’ll pick you up.”  

“Oh um..” for some reason you look at Jungkook for advice, but he just stares at you with his eyebrows furrowed, “Yeah sure, why not?” you awkwardly laugh.

“Perfect, I’ll see you then! Byeeeee,” he sings before clicking, leaving you on the line. Did that call really just happen? Or were just imagining things?  

“I think—” you gulp, “I think I have a date this Saturday?” you say unsurely, a small dumbfounded smile beginning to appear on your face.

He notices the goofy smile beginning to appear on your face, before letting out a large exasperated breath and feigning his best smile. The forced smile comes out quite awkward, “With Park Jimin?” Park Jimin your college friend. Park Jimin, the successful contemporary dancer. Park Jimin, the one who looked like he came straight out of a magazine cover. That Park Jimin? Jungkook on the other hand could feel his eyebrow impulsively twitch in response, the green eyed monster creeping from behind, ready to make its return.

You nod your head yes, Jungkook now getting up from the chair, a negative energy now around him. “So much for it being a zero sided thing,” he mutters before practically throwing his dish into the sink and stomping out the kitchen, leaving you completely by yourself.

“Weird,” you think to yourself before heading off to bed.

Saturday had surprisingly arrived in the blink of an eye despite the extra hours of working out Jungkook had thrown in the morning. It was almost as if the boy wanted you to be on your date exhausted and halfway knocked out. Out of nowhere, deciding that today was the best day to start working on more leg targeted exercises, as a result your legs now felt like jell-o with every step you took.

“I’m gonna get going you guys,” you announce to the boys in the living room, who were currently on the couch watching an episode of One Piece.

Hobi turns his attention from the screen to look at you, immediately smiling at your outfit, “Ahh look at you,” he compliments, Jungkook on the other hand or silently watches you as you grab your keys from the countertop. “Doesn’t she look pretty Jungkook?” Hobi asks, tapping Jungkook on the shoulder. Jungkook remains silent, which oddly enough resulted in a heavy feeling in your chest. “Now she’s sad!” Hobi scolds, “Tell her she looks pretty,” Hobi pushes Jungkook’s shoulder this time.

“You look…” Jungkook pauses, and for a moment both you and Hobi hold your breath, for Jungkook’s mouth was quite unpredictable sometimes, “You look more than pretty,” he says with a warm look on his face before catching himself and going back to his usual expressionless face and turning his attention back to the screen. Hobi who looks like he’s about to tease the hell out Jungkook once you leave, struggles to hide the big grin on his face. While you, well you could’ve sworn you felt your heart skip a beat.  

“Well get going now! And don’t come back too late!” Hobi teases, loving the persona of acting like a parent a little too much.

Was thinking about your roommate regular for a date? Because that’s what you found yourself doing … a lot. From the moment you had stepped into Jimin’s car your immediate comparison was to Jungkook’s own car. Once he started driving, your mind went to how unlike Jimin who drove with both hands on the steering wheel, Jungkook liked driving with one. More specifically his left. 

And of course being on a date you expect conversation to be flowing all around even when you’re waiting on the food, but for some reason you had become so used to Jungkook always being silent until he was nearly finished with his food, that when Jimin began to make conversation while waiting definitely felt … odd for you to say the least. And don’t even get you started on what he ended up ordering. Well done steak?! Jungkook hated well done steak, preferring medium rare over anything. And so to say your roommate had been constantly on your mind this whole time was a bit of an understatement. 

Currently the two of you were walking on the bridge of a local park, the several number of lampposts and people all around you making it less scary than compared to that night at the park with Jungkook. “So Y/N how’s your year been so far?” Jimin asks, a pleasant smile on his face.

“It’s been,” you pause, thinking about the person who came into your life only months ago, “it’s been pretty good.”

“That’s good to hear, that’s good to hear,” he repeats, the two of you now sitting on a bench, “So I know I told you I had some important news,” he begins, “and it’s something I’ve been really wanting to talk to you about for a very long time,” he insinuates, “and so if you could close your eyes for a moment that’d be great,” you do as follows, and close your eyes, Your heart begins to race but it wasn’t the same kind of racing you felt that night at the park with Jungkook. It was more of a “what am I doing here?” kind of nervousness so to speak. Nonetheless you shrug the feeling off.

Jimin, who was originally supposed to be getting an exhibition flyer out of his coat, notices that you have what looks to be a leaf in your hair. Deciding that it was bothering him too much he goes and reaches for it, surprised to be in contact with your lips seconds later. Quickly he pulls away, staring at you wide eyed. Both of your faces now tomato red, as he struggles to form words.

Eyes still widened, he pulls out the folded paper from jacket, once unfolded it reads, “Seoul City’s Annual Public Art Exhibition with a special performance by Seoul’s Contemporary Dance Academy choreographed by Park Jimin.”

“Oh my God—” you manage to breath out, coming to the realization that kissing you was not his attention.

He scratches the back of his neck, “I um, yeah, I’m this year’s choreographer for the city's art exhibition and well I managed to get you a slot so that you could have your very first art piece exhibited,” Jimin feigns an awkward smile, “You know since you’re a painter first before an accountant.” You, still hung up on what was probably the most embarrassing moment of your life, stare at him in complete silence. Everything barely registering in your head.

“Y/N…” he begins the dreadful pity speech by grabbing your hand, “I um,” he lets out an awkward chuckle before continuing, “I like you, I do, but not in that way…”

In the movies, this is where you’re supposed to feel as if your world was crashing down on you, the part where your heart is supposed to sink in complete sadness and you go home a complete crying mess. But rather than feel any of those things, you instead feel …. relief? Yeah, you kissing the boy was embarrassing, but it wasn’t something that was gonna haunt you for the rest of your life. Maybe for a week or two, but not definitely not the rest of your life.

Jimin wonders what’s going through your mind, the apparent smile that suddenly grew on your face telling him that things were going to be just fine, “I sorta um had my eyes on someone else in our friend group…” and with that he gets your attention because you knew exactly who he was talking about.

“Taehyung,” you say, and Jimin silently nods, a laugh emitting from both of your lips.

“Honestly, I’m a little surprised that you even agreed to go out with me, that Jungkook dude seemed like was going to lunge at me any second over there at the supermarket,” Jimin says, “I thought you two were a thing at first.”  

You laugh in disbelief, “Me and Jungkook?” you say, scrunching your face.

“Um yeah, it’s not really something shocking,” Jimin laughs, “I mean you two definitely looked like a couple that day, very much doing um couple-like things. Maybe not affectionate wise but I don’t know there were definitely looks and glances being exchanged. But if you say there’s nothing between you two then who am I to argue?” Jimin shrugs his shoulders, a smirk on his face.

“Exactly, who are you to argue,” you dramatically snarl, Jimin throwing his head back in laughter.

“So y/n what do you say about participating in the art exhibition? You know you want toooo,” Jimin sings, pouting his lips. You had forgotten about that for a moment, the embarrassment of the kiss completely fazing you out.

“Oh I don’t know,” you nervously say, you hadn’t seriously painted in such a long time, that chapter in your life being a closed book for quite some time now.

“But y/n—” Jimin begs, “This could be the moment you’ve been waiting for, there’s going to be a lot of professional artists there along with buyers.”

“I just—” something was holding you back from saying yes. Was it fear? Maybe. All you knew was that you couldn't dive into something that you had long given up on, “I don’t think I can,” you ultimately say.

Jimin frowns, “You sure? I can’t hold the slot for too long, and well I was so sure you’d say yes..” You sigh before nodding, confirming that you were saying no.

“Ah okay,” Jimin says, completely understanding, “Come on let’s get you home,” to which you nod, a small sad smile on your face.

By the time you got back home, you wondered if the boys’ were asleep already, hoping at least one of them was awake to talk to, more specifically Hobi, for he always knew what to say when you needed comfort. And so when you opened the door to find the TV still on, but no one in the living room, you were confused to say the least.

You walk towards Hobi’s room, crack open the door, and peep your head in only to find him sound asleep. Did that mean Jungkook was up? Maybe someone just forgot to turn off the TV… with your curiosity getting the best of you, you decide to go Jungkook’s room and check if he was there. With your hand on the knob, you begin to twist it, slowly opening the door until a voice scares you from behind, “What are you doing?” he harshly whispers causing you to yelp in surprise.

“Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God,” you whisper as well, closing his door immediately, “I-I-I thought you were,” you point at his door, unable to complete your sentence.

“I was peeing,” he says, “Did you not see the light on?”

Shaking your head no, you ask, “What are you even doing up this late?”

Jungkook awkwardly stammers, “I um, I just couldn’t sleep,” he says instead of admitting that secretly he was waiting for you to arrive, just to make sure you were safe. Nothing else of course, not like he wanted to know how your date went… “Why are you going into my room without my permission?” he questions.

You scoff, “You always go in mine!” you try your best to keep your voice down, not wanting to wake up a grumpy Hobi, “Why can’t I go in yours?”

“Because you’ve never told me anything against me going into yours,” he argues, “Just because we’re um,” he pauses, struggling to say the word that comes next, “friends… doesn’t mean you get to go snooping around.” What the hell was he hiding in there that you couldn’t go in?

“That’s not fair and you know it,” you complain, ready to cross your arms and complain like a kid, that is until he flicks your forehead with his index finger.

“Ow,” you cry, “What was that for?” you groan, and he shrugs in response.

“I don’t know I just felt like doing it,” he smirks, “your forehead just looks so … flickable.” You narrow your eyes, quickly flicking his in return, garnering an “ow” from him as well.

“Oh you’re gonna pay for that,” he says, and quickly but also softly because you didn’t want to stomp too hard on the floor, you run back to the living room, the two of you now chasing each other around, index fingers ready for some more flicking. Maniacal fits of giggles filling the room as you begin to throw pillows at each other, running around the kitchen island like little kids. 

Jungkook, despite being the faster runner, was the one being chased. The closer you got to him, the further you began to reach your arm for his t-shirt, your fingertips always grazing the bottom. But once you finally did, something very unexpected happened. You tripped.

Soon enough, you were hands down on the floor, Jungkook below you, a casualty of your fall. The two of you now facing each other, chests heaving from your game of tag, laughing uncontrollably. Not exactly caring if Hobi, the neighbors, or the rest of the world could hear you.

Gradually, you get off him and instead lay on the kitchen floor right next him, aimlessly staring at the ceiling. A comfortable silence in the air. If someone would’ve told you at the beginning of the year that you and Jungkook would be playing tag in the apartment like little kids, you would’ve told them they were crazy. But yet here you were, heart pounding out of your chest, wanting this moment to remain for as long as it possibly could.

“So…” Jungkook continues to stare at the ceiling, “How’d your date go?”

“It was…” you use the only word that could properly describe it, “embarrassing,” you giggle, recalling what happened. Jungkook looks at you, eager to say the least, to know why.

“Let’s just say I ummm … took some signs completely wrong,” you awkwardly chuckle, “or long story short, I sorta kissed him and well let’s just say he has his eyes on someone else in our friend group.”

Was it wrong for Jungkook to feel happy? Happy that you two didn’t have insane chemistry, become boyfriend and girlfriend, and live happily ever after after like in the fairytales. Of course he wasn’t happy that it was you who went for the kiss, nor that it was who you got rejected, but it was better than you coming in here raving on about Park Jimin, no offense to Jimin.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook says, an attempt to comfort you.

“It’s fine really,” you laugh, “what’s weird was that I didn’t really feel as heartbroken or as sad as I thought I’d be,” you shrug, “I’m just glad it didn’t ruin our friendship or anything. If anything I’m sad about what he offered... “

“What did he offer?” Jungkook’s jaw tightens, but you’re quick to shake your head and sigh.

“He offered me a spot at Seoul’s annual art exhibition, I guess since he choreographed a dance, he was able to talk them into giving him a spot and well I said no,” Jungkook frowns, wondering why you didn’t take the offer, “I just couldn’t see myself doing it… I haven’t painted in what feels like forever and to then have it be seen by thousands of people, yeah I can already feel the anxiety from that. One bad comment and I’m going to have to fake a smile the whole time and cry when I get home.”

Jungkook scoffs, “Who cares what others think? Screw them. I know that it’s rich coming from me, but if you think those people who may insult you or throw some sly comment to get under your skin are better than you in any way then let me tell you, they’re not. And who says you have to take their shit? Stop feeling as if you have to always put on some fake smile for people in order to spare their feelings and start looking out for your own,” Jungkook sits up, looking down on you. “So you know what you’re going to do?”

You stare at him in silence, murmuring a tiny “what?”

“You’re going to text Jimin right now and tell him you’re taking that spot,” Jungkook demands, “and if you don’t then I’ll call him myself and do it for you.” Now it’s your turn to sit yourself right up, waiting for a sign in his eyes that told you he was purely kidding. “Well what are you waiting for?” He eyes your pockets, waiting for you to reach for your phone.

“Jungko—”

“Y/N, you can’t tell me that you’re not feeling sad because you know you’re going to regret saying no to the opportunity,” Jungkook’s voice raises without meaning to, placing his hands on your shoulders, “I don’t have to see a single painting of yours to know that you’re talented, and if people can’t see that then honestly it’s their loss.” You feel your heart swell with every word, slowly pulling out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans.

Jungkook gets up from his position, offering his hand to help pull you up. Once he pulls you, he walks towards the fridge, and takes two pints of ice cream out the freezer. Your face lights up as you watch him get two spoons from the drawer, “Don’t hold it against me, but I bought these after you left just in case you came back a crying mess,” he avoids eye contact with you while handing you your pint, “But heartbreak or not, someone has to eat these. So come on, send that text so we can watch some One Piece.”

“Imagine you would’ve never convinced me to do the art exhibition,” you laugh, gently nudging Jungkook.

“Mm though it could’ve prevented a lot of things, the good definitely outweighed the bad so…” Jungkook pauses, “I guess it just goes to show you have to go through the downs in order to reap the rewards of the up.”

“Now look who's getting all wordy on me,” you tease.

“I guess you’re rubbing off on me more than I’d like to admit,” he pretends to be annoyed by dramatically sighing but a laugh soon follows.

June 2019.

After texting Jimin that you had changed your mind, you began to work on the painting you had brainstormed for the art exhibition, first sketching it out and now well on your way to starting your quite large painting. 

Honestly, pulling out your old art tools and portfolio from years ago was nostalgic, bringing you a genuine sense of completeness. To have a decent paying job, the best of friends, and now being able to practice the hobby you had once considered turning into a career was everything you could ask for. But what made you feel even warmer inside was just how supportive Jungkook was of the whole thing, always buying and bringing back art materials for you to use, including different colors of paint. Though most of the time they weren’t really what you considered the best quality, it was the thought that counted.

After your boxing lessons with him, you’d usually go straight to your room to begin working on it, for the first time since you stopped painting feeling actual motivation and creativity flowing through you. Life was good. Not good, amazing.

That was until today, when you noticed Jungkook hadn’t woken you up for your usual Saturday workout. “Maybe he overslept?” you think to yourself, probably had a tiresome night at work yesterday. Slowly you make your way outside his door, gently knocking on the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Nothing. Not a groan, not a “let me sleep”, absolutely nothing. You knock one more time just to make sure, your shoulders dropping once you realize he wasn’t going to open the door. Remembering what he said about entering his room, you decide that if he was having a bad day, it’d just be best to leave him be for the meanwhile.

Things didn’t really start getting alarming until you and Hobi both noticed that he skipped breakfast. His door remaining absolutely closed the whole morning and day, not a peep of sound coming out.

“Hobi, I’m starting to get worried,” your eyes glimmer with concern, “He hasn’t come out all day.”

“I know I am too, but—” Hobi sighs, “I don’t want to pressure him into—” the sound of a door opening quickly grabs your guys’ attention, the two of you silently watching Jungkook come out of his room. The time on the clock reading 6PM, the sun outside beginning to set. Carefully you watch Jungkook come into the kitchen, grabbing nothing more than a water bottle and a couple of snacks.

There’s a redness to his eyes that you’d never seen before, almost as if he had been sobbing. His under eyes were in the early stages of becoming puffy, and his skin seemed a lot paler than usual. You feel your heart sink when the two of you, for a mere second, make eye contact. Quietly he begins to make his way back to his room, but not before you offer him some food.

“Y/N—” Hobi tries to stop you, but you continue nonetheless.

“I made japchae,” you say, “I even added extra mushrooms like how you always like it,” he stares at you in silence, a cold look to his eyes before ignoring you and returning to his room. The door slamming shut once he does. If your heart was sunk already, then it was definitely stomped and ripped into pieces after that.

You turn your attention back to the TV, feeling Hobi’s stare from the side. Suddenly the volume of the TV is lowered and you already know what's coming, “Y/N…” you hear Hobi say, a sad tone behind his voice.

“Hobi don’t,” you cut him off before he could continue, not wanting to receive his pity, “I just don’t feel like hearing it right now.”

Hobi ignores you, knowing you were just putting up a wall as a defense mechanism, “You know he didn’t mean it,” he says, “he’s probably just having a rough day that’s all.”

“Even if he is, why does he still feel the need to just keep it to himself, why can’t he see that he can trust us, that he can trust me? Sometimes it feels like he knows a lot more about me than I know about him—” you rant, trying to keep your voice down so that Jungkook doesn’t hear you from his room.

Hobi sighs, getting up from the couch and grabbing his jacket and keys from the counter, “Put on your shoes,” he says, and you look at him confused before doing as he says and following him outside. The two of you then climb up the fire ladder of your apartment and onto the roof, the view of the stars sending shivers down your spine.

“Okay now sit—” he commands, which you do anyway.

“Why are we even out here?” you question, regretting not bringing your own sweater.

“Because I’m going to tell you a story, and well I don’t want Jungkook hearing us,” he says, making himself comfortable in the spot next to you, “You ready?”

Silently you nod your head yes, and so he continues.

“When I was a kid, I was what you could call ...nerdy … so to speak,” he chuckles, “I had those big ol glasses that made you look like you had fish eyes, I liked reading the Harry Potter books, I didn’t like playing sports like the rest of the boys in my elementary school did, and well in general I just wasn’t like a lot of them,” he pauses to look up at the sky, continuing once he was ready, “Now when you’re in elementary, kids won’t directly bully you, but instead they’ll make little teasing remarks because well ...we’re kids. We don’t know the big curse words yet or what we’re capable of physically. And so as a kid I’d let those jokes slide, I’d let their insults become the label put on me, not knowing the true maliciousness behind it.”

You feel your eyes become glossy, knowing where this was leading, “But the older you get, the more you begin to learn and well soon enough the teasing became full on bullying by middle school. The older kids would make these nicknames for me, and constantly call me them before, during, and after school. Occasionally even following me for a couple of blocks when walking home just to remind me that they had power over me,” Hobi’s voice begins to shake a little, “and well I didn’t know how to speak up for myself, let alone defend myself and so it just became a regular occurrence until on a certain day in middle school,” he pauses, taking a big breath. 

“I had been walking home from school that day, and for some reason that day I decided I wanted to take a different route back home, probably because I was hoping the kids who would bully me would decide not to follow me. But boy was I was wrong,” he feigns a laugh, “The route I had taken was right next to the Suyeong River, and well I think it’s important to note that I didn’t know how to swim at the time. I think I personally choose not to remember too much, but one moment I was walking and the next I had my face being pulled in and out of the water, the sounds of laughter being the thing I remember the most from that day,” Hobi closes his eyes, his voice cracking as he continues, “And I just remember thinking how could kids my age be so viscous?” tears begin to silently fall from his eyes, his hands slightly shaking at the recollection of the memory, “I thought this was it, this is the end of the line for me.”

“It wasn’t until I felt the release of my hair and the touch of someone pulling back that the nightmare came to an end,” Hobi wipes his tears with the sleeve of his sweater, “When I finally managed to get some kind of focus on my vision, I’d come to see the boy who was pushing me into the water completely knocked out the floor while the rest of his buddies were running to who knows where,” The scene from the club begins to replay in your head, remembering the person who had gotten there just at the right time.

“And then there was Jungkook, the boy I’d never seen a day in my life , helping me fix myself along with looking for my glasses even after having knocked out that boy with his bare hands. After that me and Jungkook became the best of friends, like actual genuine friends and the bullying had completely stopped. I’d also come to find out that Jungkook was a boxer, and not a casual one, like an “I practice every weekday, weekend, day, and night.” kind of one. He was aiming to go pro, and so he had to put in the time for it. His parents were supportive of it as well, as I think his dad saw the most potential in it.”  

Hobi takes a breather before continuing, finding yourself completely immersed in the story, “And so when our senior year came around and I had gotten accepted into SNU, I asked Jungkook what he was planning on doing now that we were graduating. And well that’s when he told me that had gotten an offer to train and compete in the states, where there’d be a lot more tougher competition and where he could really develop the natural talent he had. So on graduation day we had our teary farewell, and I remember telling him that if he ever needed anything and I truly meant anything, that he’d know where to find me.”

“So when years later I received a call at about 2 in the morning, asking if he could redeem the favor he had once done for me so long ago, I knew I couldn’t say no. I don’t know what happened in the states, and I don’t bother to ask him because I know that the day he’s ready to tell me or you, he will. Whatever did happen over there, changed him though. He came back a colder, more rude person, and honestly I thought he’d be like that forever until he started to get to know you,” Hobi smiles, “That’s when I began to see glimpses of the Jungkook I knew from high school again, the one who liked to mess around all the time, and never took himself too seriously.”

“You see y/n, I’m telling you all of this because I want you to know that Jungkook isn’t like us in the way of opening up when he feels sad or mad. He’s used to being the one doing all the protecting and so when he finds himself in a place where he’s overwhelmed by the feelings of sadness or anger, he gives the cold shoulder or becomes someone who isn’t like him at all, in order to avoid talking about it. I think it’s because he doesn’t want anyone to know the burden he carries. To sum it up y/n, Jungkook is the definition of when it rains, it pours … but when it shines, you’ll completely forget it ever rained to begin with,” Hobi pats you softly on the shoulder, “So the best thing you can do right now is let the storm play itself out, so that then you can be there when the rainbow comes back out.”

If only you had listened.

“Ahh so it was Hobi who told you everything,” Jungkook scrunches his face.

“No duhhhhh,” you sing, “Who else could have?”

Jungkook shrugs, “I don’t know, I thought you just magically figured it out on your own,” you’re unsure on whether he’s being sarcastic or not so all you is narrow your eyes at him, deciding to stay silent than make yourself look stupid.

“Mm either way Hobi made a BIG mistake telling me,” you laugh, “because he should've known my nosiness was only going to lead to problems.”

“Tell me about it,” Jungkook teases, resulting in a light smack to the shoulder.

July 2019.

It had been about a month since Jungkook’s change in behavior, his cold demeanor reminding you of when he first moved in months ago. The only time he’d ever leave his room was to go to work, use the restroom, or get his food to take to his room. You had been working on your painting whenever you got the chance, a distraction from the constant concern you felt for Jungkook. You know Hobi said to give it time, but how long would it be until Jungkook decided to finally open up? He couldn’t go on like this forever, could he?

You missed the Jungkook you had gotten to know in the last couple of months, the one who showed you that the tough wall he put up around him was nothing more than an act. That behind it, he was a complete sweetheart who liked drinking his banana milk and watching One Piece whenever he had the chance, the one who constantly liked to steal your things from your room and then replace them with an even better version, the one whose laugh sorta reminded you of Elmo but was still absolutely adorable, and lastly the one who you had found constantly by your side and falling further in love with every waking moment.

Not like, but love. You had come to realize it while you were in bed one night, your only thoughts being thunk all relating to Jungkook in some way. Remembering the number of times this month where you’d find yourself outside his bedroom door, inches away from knocking, knowing that all you needed was for him to open up the door at least once and you’d know everything was going to be okay. Sadly, you’d always find yourself chickening out, Hobi’s words always ringing in your head to serve as a reminder. Jungkook needed space. And as much as you wanted to run up to him and give him a tight hug, you knew you had to respect his boundaries.

So then why was it that today, when you found yourself painting and missing a certain color, a tiny voice in your head was telling you that maybe Jungkook had it… Realistically you knew it wasn’t possible, you had kept track of all your colors from the moment you started, but damn was that voice convincing. 

Getting up from the floor, you walk out into the living room, checking around to see if it was there. Hobi, who was currently taking a nap on the couch, seemed completely at peace.

You check his room to see if he has it, but your efforts were to no avail. The only place it had to be was Jungkook’s room. It had to be. At least that’s what you were telling yourself so could finally have an excuse to knock on his door. Making your way to his room, you prepare to knock, your knuckles lightly tapping against the wooden door. But to your surprise the door creaks open, no one presumably in the room…

You could’ve sworn Jungkook was home? You double check the restroom, making sure it wasn’t going to be an incident like last time, but this time he really wasn’t there. The voice of reasoning versus temptation now had you completely torn. You remember the day Jungkook first moved in, and how secretive he got over you seeing whatever it was inside his boxes, and the night after your date and how stern he was about you not entering.

Slowly you push open the door of his room, completely forgetting Hobi’s words and deciding that it was either now or never. You knew you were a pushing boundary that you shouldn’t be, but a part of you also felt like it had to be done. Maybe if you found out what was bothering Jungkook so much, you could help him.

Honestly, you weren't too sure on what you expected when you first entered. Considering how secretive Jungkook was about it, you sorta assumed the room would be all black and have a whole bunch of weird things hanging across the walls, but surprisingly his room looked completely normal. The bed covers were a navy blue color that matched with some of the artwork he had hung across the beige colored apartment walls. The drawers were plain and boring while his desk looked like any other ordinary desk:  stacked with random sketches, pens, One piece manga, and printed webtoons. If this is all he was hiding, then it really no made sense because there was literally nothing to hide….

That was until you saw the closed closet door, and once you opened it, you were blown away. For what was behind those closet doors was an entire memorabilia of awards, belts, photos, and trophies which you assumed were all Jungkook’s, newspapers from the states with headlines that spoke of how amazing Jungkook was. Many of them include the words “rising”, “prodigy”,  and “the next big thing”. Your eyes try to take everything in all in one go, but it was just so much. There were papers that were written about him even when he was a kid, pictures of his with several belts around his waist amazed you. This was insane.

But it wasn’t until you noticed the newspaper headline of the paper hung right in the center of the practical shrine that the smile from your face fell, as it read, “Prodigy Jeon Jungkook, K.O’d in Round 12 against Brandon Star.” You look at the date, and everything begins to start making sense. The date which read December 1, 2018, only a couple of weeks prior to your first meeting with him at New Years, the churning feeling in your stomach only becoming heavier as you read the newspaper next to it. “Rising Star, Jeon Jungkook, disappears. Where is he now?” it reads, and as you skim through the different articles, the whole memorabilia shrine begins to make sense. Jungkook didn’t have this here for the purpose of maintaining old memories, but for the purpose of constantly reminding himself of what he once was and how he ended up failing, torturing himself to say the least. It’d explain his pent up anger when you first met him, the scar was still fresh.

Grabbing one of the trophies from the memorabilia desk, you observe the glass material and admire its fine detail, Jungkook’s name written in cursive underneath the title. Slowly your fingers graze over it, whispering his name to yourself, “Jeon Ju—”

“What do you think you’re doing?” a voice harshly interrupts, scaring you and causing you to jump. The slippery trophy in your hands falling to floors, several pieces of glass now shattered onto the floor. Turning to face the owner of the voice, your heart stops when you find Jungkook staring at the floor, an expressionless look on his face.

“I—” your brain completely freezes, only staring at his balled up fist which was becoming more red with every passing second.

“I told you—” he closes his eyes, letting out an exasperated breath, “I told you to stay the fuck out of my room,” he finally snaps, his enraged voice echoing across the walls of the room, “So then why, why the fuck are you in here right now!” he moves towards you, his face now becoming red in anger. Not caring whether he was stepping on glass or not.

“I know but—”

He cuts you off, “But fucking what? There’s no reason you should even be in here right now y/n! None!” he screams, his rage only furthering with every word. Tears begin to well up in your eyes as you stammer to defend yourself. “How would you feel like if I barged into your room and destroyed something personal of yours, huh?”  

All you can do is stare at him, never seeing him this enraged before, the sight definitely a scary one, “Answer me goddamit!” he yells, his fist still balled up, holding himself back from punching anything. He looks down at the broken glass one more time, his chest now heaving in anger before storming out the room.

Quickly you follow him, chills going down your spine when you see him turn to your room.

“What are you—” you begin, but it’s too late. Everything happens in slow motion, from the fist being thrown to the sound of the canvas you’d been working so long on cracking, several holes and rips appearing soon after. You look at the scene in front of you in silence, shock running through your veins, and the need to vomit stronger than ever before. Jungkook breathes heavily, staring at what he’s just done, not feeling a single ounce of remorse.

The closing feeling in your throat is one that’s too overwhelming, but the anger you were now feeling was even stronger, “What is wrong with you,” you whisper, tears falling down from your eyes, a look of terror overtaking your face, “What is wrong with you!” you scream, lips trembling as your voice breaks at just how loud you were. Jungkook feels his blood run cold, taken back by your sudden outburst.

“I have been nothing but kind to you since the day we’ve met, nothing but!” you yell, hot tears uncontrollably falling from your hysteria.

Jungkook scoffs, yelling right in return, “Do you want some kind of reward for that? Is that it? Is that all this is? Another ego booster for you so you can pat yourself on the back and say you’re a good person!”

“I don’t need anything from anyone! Especially not from someone like you,” you spit, Jungkook’s jaw clenching at your response.

“Ah I knew that nice ol princess act was nothing more than mere bullshit,” he bitterly laughs, “finally had enough of your whole little treat everyone with kindness moral?” he mocks you.

“It’s not a fucking act, I’m just not a miserable person like you!” you grit your teeth, the temptation to throw something at him at an all time high.

“No you just live in this big old fantasy bubble that’s got you believing that kindness solves all the world's problems!”

“Yeah well it’s better than thinking that being a fucking prick to the rest of the world gets you anywhere, I mean look at where you’re at now!” you yell, knowing you were treading on thin ice, but you didn’t care at all anymore. The ice was shattered the moment he destroyed your painting, “I understand that I made a mistake going into your room, but you don’t have to take the rest of your miserable life out on me! You think everyone around you wants to be some kind of punching bag all the time for you?” the veins in your neck begin to pop out, and you almost feel as if your chest was going to physically explode at any moment, “How dare you come in here and treat everyone around you like complete shit all because you’re living a sad tragic life!”

“That’s not true,” he snarls, a scowl on his face.

“Isn’t it?” you scoff, “You’ve done it since the first day you got here, and so let me do the favor of telling you the truth and giving you a goddamn reality check! We’re all sick and tired of it! Just because you’re miserable doesn’t mean you get to make everyone around you as well! And let me tell you, I’ll be damned if I let someone like you make me just as rotten as yourself,” and for a small second you see the hurt across Jungkook’s face, and you think maybe you’ve gone too far. 

Maybe this could’ve all been prevented had you never entered his room. But then you think to yourself that no, this was bound to happen. This was always going to happen whether you liked it or not. The questions had always just been: when was it going to happen and what was going to be the straw that broke the camel’s back? By now both of your chests are heaving, and there’s a silence that fills the room. Time acts as nothing more than an illusion.

“Is that what you really think?” he says, a cold hardened expression on his face again, “That I make you miserable?” You look at the destroyed painting on the floor, a symbol that despite building and making something so beautiful, all it took was one slip of the finger for it all to go down the drain. Without saying anything, you slowly nod to him, the emptiness in your heart acting as a driving force.

“What the—” Hobi walks in the room, dazed and confused, “What the fuck is going on in here?” He asks, but the two of you remain silent, continuing to stare at one another.

That is until Jungkook breaks away from the stare, muttering a small “nothing,” under his breath, walking out of the room and going back to his own, the door loudly slamming shut.

“Y/N…” Hobi begins, but you cut him off before he even gets the chance, a tiresome expression on your face.

“Hobi,” you shake your head, “Just leave me alone!,” you snap at him, but it comes out more as a plea than a demand, voice completely weary. Hobi stares at you for a moment before doing so, gently closing the door when making his way out. Once you hear the sound of the door close, you squat down to the floor, fingers grazing the painting you’d work so hard on, a muffled sob finally escaping from your lips.

a/n: whew! originally this was supposed to be nothing more than a small drabble, but as i kept writing it just ended becoming this monstrous of a fic that i had to split into two lmao. hopefully i didn’t make the switches between present day and the past too confusing for y’all.  part two will probably be up by next friday, once my finals week is over :)) any messages, anons, comments, reblogs, and like are appreciated! see y’all next time! 💞

Safety Net || part two (final). (m.)

all rights reserved © pradaksj

↳do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

❧ summary ⟶ on new year’s eve, you and jungkook reflect on each other’s entire year together.

❧ pairing⟶ jungkook/reader

❧ genre⟶  enemies to friends, friends to lovers, fluff, angst, pining, smut, boxer!jungkook. two-part series.

❧ word count ⟶ 16,000+

❧ warnings ⟶ descriptions of an anxiety/panic attack, character death (non-major), smut which includes ... passionate to rough sex, oral (female receiving), penetration, fingering, unprotected sex (please have sex responsibly lol). 

❧ music⟶ safety net, selfish, stuck on you, exile, +more

❧ a/n ⟶ I am still fairly new to writing smut so sorry if it doesn’t meet your expectations 😭 also to all my people who don’t like smut “*” signals where you can stop reading as the smut is really just a bonus scene at the end. and remember dark purple = entering/still in the past, light purple = present

01 | 02 (final) 

“God were we dramatic,” you laugh, glad that the recollection of your big fight with Jungkook was something that could by now be laughed at rather than seen as something you’d dearly regret, “Don’t you think?” you ask Jungkook, concern immediately washing over you once you see the sad look on his face, “Jungkook?”

Jungkook stares blankly at the lake in front of him, surprised at the resurgence of the same heavy feeling in chest he had felt several months before, “Did I—Did I say something wrong?” you worry that you’ve hurt his feelings, that being one of, if not the, last thing you wanted to do tonight.

Quietly he nods his head no, “I just—” he struggles to voice his thoughts, “I was—” he shakes his head and you grab his hand in comfort, giving him a small smile.

“Hey,” you giggle, “what happened is in the past,” you reassure.

“I know but—” he sighs, pushing his hair back with his other hand, “I just still feel bad, you know? I mean we went a whole month without talking…. practically hating one another…”

August 2019. 

It had been about a month since your explosive argument with Jungkook, and despite living together... the two of you had never been so far apart. Not only were you not on speaking terms, but it was as if neither of you existed in each other's proper world, completely avoiding each other at all costs.

One would think that because you two lived with one another, you’d be bound to have some kind of awkward bump ins from time to time, but somehow the two of you managed to steer clear of each other. From eating breakfast and dinner at separate times, to talking to Hobi at your own respective times, and of course the first thing Jungkook did the next day after your fight was move his things out of your restroom and into Hobi’s. You weren’t going to lie, it did sting just a little , but you were quick to get over it. The part that made Hobi roll his eyes even further back than they already did, was how quickly you two scrambled around each other whenever you did happen to coincidentally be in the same place such as the kitchen.

Originally Hobi tried any and every method possible to get you two to make up, knocking on doors and trying to trick you two into talking, faking handwriting, stealing personal belongings, and of course begging. Hell, he even tried confronting you two in one of the rare times you guys were in the kitchen at the same time, but all you two did was remain silent and go back into your respective rooms. Not bothering to even spare a glance at one another.

He had given up about two weeks in of trying, deciding that it was up to you two to figure out how you guys would make up. But it wasn’t until this Friday morning when he saw a certain letter stick out of the mail that he found himself loudly sighing.

“Oh Jungkook…” he whispers to himself, shaking his head as he read the letter in front of him. What was he going to do now?

It didn’t take long for Jungkook to get used to being the lone wolf in the apartment again, in fact it was easy for him to completely ignore your existence. It was easy to watch you struggle opening a jar full of kimchi. It was easy to catch a glimpse of you and Hobi watching One Piece on the couch whenever he was making his way out of the apartment to go and party. It was easy to hear you sing along to some new girl group song and not join along whenever he passed by your room. And it was very easy to hate you. Very easy indeed.

Gosh, who was he kidding? It was the hardest freaking thing in the world to do. Especially because he didn’t hate you at all. Pretending to? Yes. Actually? Fuck no.

If he was being honest, any hatred he had felt in the moment of the big argument had been rapidly washed away the moment he slammed his door shut. Instead it had been quickly replaced by the feeling of hurt and sadness. He even found himself sneaking into the kitchen that night to grab an extra pint of ice cream from the freezer and watch some stupid K-drama from his laptop back in his room. Even shedding a small tear when the male and female lead had to break up due to unforeseen circumstances. But of course if you asked him if it was true, he’d deny it in a heartbeat.

He’d often find himself zoning out and replaying the fight in his head. God, was he an idiot. What was he thinking destroying your painting like that? Did he really think you weren’t going to react the way you did? Sadly, the answer was a mixture of both yes and no. Yes, he wanted you to feel as hurt as he did, but he didn’t expect you to go fully ballistic on him. Did he blame you for it? No, of course not. You had every right to be mad at him as he had acted out in completely blind rage. Not bothering to stop for one moment and ask himself, am I okay with the possible outcome of what I’m about to do? Had he known it was going to be this, and well … he would’ve never done it.

It just happened so quick. One moment he was staring at the floor covered with broken pieces of glass and the next he had his fist going through the canvas of your painting, destroying the very thing he convinced you to work on. No wonder you hated him…

You hated him and you had every right to. He just wasn’t sure how long he was going to be able to take it anymore. Having to only catch glimpses of you from time to time and not being able to say anything because he was too ashamed to even look at you was truly killing him. And he could only imagine how you felt having to see him every day and night. Knowing the person you hated most was living under the same roof as you. Hell, if the roles were reversed he probably wouldn’t want you around at all.

Which is why as Jungkook currently stares aimlessly at the ceiling of his room, he knows he’s made the right decision.

The night of the fight between you and Jungkook, you had felt a range of emotions that honestly were quite overwhelming. Whenever you’d stare off into space you’d find yourself feeling very sad and reflective, but whenever you even caught a glimpse of your then destroyed painting on the floor you’d feel the rush of anger return all at once. It was like that the whole night, not even an episode of One Piece could cheer you up. If anything it made you feel even more confused because you were on the episode where (spoiler alert) *** dies, and well not only were you mad at how it happened, but sad because it was happening. Hell, that was probably the best way to describe how you felt about the whole argument.

The first couple of days had been hard to say the least, the dynamic between all three of you drastically changing in the matter of a couple days. No longer were there grocery shopping trips together, nor were there laundry days where you and Jungkook would compete to see who could fold the fastest, and of course there were no longer Netflix movie nights where Hobi would complain because you and Jungkook kept cracking too many jokes during the most intense scenes. Your laughs always echoing across the living room walls thus ruining the buildup of the scene.

You were good at pretending you didn’t care, in fact you were great at it. Maybe because a part of you actually didn’t care. You had long been fed up with Jungkook’s moody antics, and him destroying that painting was the final straw. Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have gone into his room after he specifically told you not to, but you only did because you were worried about him and actually cared about him. Couldn’t he have seen that before he went full on rampage mode and destroyed your painting? He was wrong for what he did, and at the end of the day he had no right to hate you. Right?

These days you found yourself doubting it. It wasn’t like you were in the entire right, you mean you had invaded his privacy … you shake your head, begrudgingly getting out of bed before dwelling on your thoughts for any longer. The re-do of your painting, which currently sat on its easel, serving as reminder that you weren’t planning on talking to him anytime soon.

“Good Morning to you,” Hobi greets, watching you stomp your way into the kitchen, clearly running on an empty stomach. Jungkook was currently out, either working out or …. Hobi sighs recalling what he saw in the letter this morning.

“Good morning,” you mumble, the grouchy mood that Hobi found himself a little too used to making its morning return. In all the years he’s known you, to see you always this …. down …. was very unlike of you to say the least.

Whether you liked it or not, your fight with Jungkook had definitely changed some aspects of your personality, even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself yet. Because no matter how good you were good at faking it, and trust him you were good (a professional indeed), behind that tough wall you had put up in the last month was a person who was hurt. A person who had their heart crushed right in front of them.

Grabbing two slices of bread, you place them in the toaster, preparing to make yourself some avocado toast. You sigh when you hear Hobi’s footsteps getting closer, not wanting to hear the whole “You need to talk to Jungkook” speech this early on a Saturday morning.

Turning around to face him, you’re prepared to protest against his usual lecture, “Hobi I don’t—” the sound of an envelope hitting the counter catching you off guard, stopping you from continuing any further. Furrowing your brows, your eyes glint with confusion. Hobi stares at you with a stoic expression, waiting for you to grab the letter from the island’s counter.

Slowly you grab the white envelope, extremely confused as to what this had to do with. The name on the recipient line reads, “Jeon Jungkook” and for a small second you feel your heart stop, but you’re quick to shake it off.

“This isn’t mine, if you can’t tell,” you scoff, preparing to hand the envelope back to Hobi.

Pushing your hand away, he says, “Read it,” his tone telling you that it wasn’t exactly an option.

Rolling your eyes, you pull out the single piece of paper that’s inside, unfolding the tri-folded letter. Your eyes quickly gaze over the subject line which reads, “Application Approval,” catching your attention. From there you continue to read…

Dear Jeon Jungkook,

We are pleased to notify you that we have received and accepted your application for the lease property of **** Jangsin-Ro, Apartment 32. Your lease will begin on September 28, 2019 and your rent amount is ₩****  for every 1st of the month. Any cancellations will result in a ₩*** fee. I want to thank you for your application and anticipate that you will have an enjoyable living experience in your new home.

If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me.

Sincerely,

Bang Si-Hyuk.

Wait what? Your eyes reread the letter that’s in front of you because clearly you were reading something wrong. Your eyes must’ve been deceiving you because there was just no way…. Looking up at Hobi, you hope this was another of his attempts to get you to talk to Jungkook, but there he stood, straight faced as ever.

“He’s—” your voice whimpers like a little kid, “He’s moving out?”  

“Ow!” Jungkook squirms, the feeling of your fingers pinching his arm hurting him, “What was that for?!” he yelps.

“For trying to move out without telling us! And don’t you dare ever pull something like that again,” you scold him, tempted to pinch him again.

Garnering a laugh out of him, you cross your arms like a kid and huff a loud breath of air, “Ah I won’t, I won’t,” he giggles, “Maybe…” he mumbles, but he’s quick to raise his arms in defense once he sees you ready to pinch him once again, “I’m just kidding,” he sings and you roll your eyes.

“Serves you right,” you mutter, letting out the hurt you felt that day to him because honestly, you had never gotten the opportunity to do so…

September 2019.

“Jungkook is moving out. Jungkook is moving out. Jungkook is moving out,” you think to yourself, having to come to terms with the fact that in exactly 48 hours from now Jungkook was officially going to be out of your life … for good.  

You were shocked to say the least, when you saw the application letter, not exactly sure about what you felt. You mean, yeah you were definitely mad at Jungkook, but enough to the point where you wanted him officially out of your life? Hell no.

So then where the hell did he even get the idea to move out? It wasn’t like you two were being mean to each other, nor was there blatant hatred being shown on your part. All you two were doing were ignoring each other like two little kids. That should not be cause for someone to move out. Not at all!

A knock on the door catches your attention, “You ready?” Hobi asks, dressed in business like attire. His all black suit made him seem almost intimidating, that was until your eyes landed on his newly dyed cherry-red hair only causing you to stifle a small laugh.

Nodding your head, you look at yourself in the mirror one last time. Tonight was the night of the art exhibition, and you were very very nervous. You had turned in your piece a couple of days prior, but to have to later unveil it in front of everyone along with giving a small speech was nerve wracking. Especially considering you hadn’t involved yourself in the world of the arts for several years now, if anything you were used to constantly talking about accounting numbers and different business statistics.

“It’s either now or never,” you whisper to yourself, not knowing what awaited you.

“I just don’t get it Hobi,” you rant in the car, on your way to the galleria’s location, “he didn’t see me trying to move out when he was being nothing but a complete dick to me those first couple of months!” you pout, still not having accepted that Jungkook was moving out, despite constantly reminding yourself that he was.

Hobi sighs, feeling as if he’s heard you rant about this since you’ve found out … oh wait … you have! “Y/N—” he begins.

“No listen to me Hobi!” you interrupt, “Can he really not stand the sight of me that he feels the need to move out?? Was me going into his room really that big of an issue,” your voice wavers a bit, but you continue nonetheless, “And the fact that he hasn’t even bothered to tell you! So what? He was just planning on disappearing this coming Monday! Thinking no questions were going to be raised? I mean imagine you hadn’t seen that letter, he would’ve left thinking I hate him!” And to that Hobi lets out a scoff.

“What do you mean?” he scrunches his face, “He still is!” Hobi raises his finger before you could talk, “My turn,” he firmly states, only causing you to drop your defensive shoulders and roll your eyes.

“You two have not talked at all since your stupid little argument where clearly both of you were in the wrong!” he rants, repeating what he’s been saying for the last two months, the topic becoming tiresome, “And now one of you is leaving because neither of you can get over yourselves and just initiate some kind of freaking conversation! Just one conversation and I am one hundred percent sure everything will get cleared up and we can all go back to our daily lives, but nooooo both of you think we’re in some freaking K-drama, actually no, even K-dramas make up faster than the two of you!” he ends his rant on an insult, and you’re left there momentarily speechless.

“You are so—”

“I’m what?” Hobi glares at you, and you only narrow your eyes at him in return.

“You are so wrong,” you state, refusing to now look at him, instead looking out the window.

“I’m right and you know it,” you mumble something under your breath in response, “You invaded his privacy after he repeatedly told you not to, but for some reason you just felt the impulsive need to go into his room and find out what he was hiding. You know, I’m sorry Y/N but if Jungkook’s the biggest dickhead in existence then you my friend are the pushiest one,” he complains, finding his grip on the steering wheel becoming tighter. God, did the two of you get his blood pressure boiling up.

“You don’t get it, I had to go into his room,” you mutter, not exactly happy with the fact that Hobi is reading you for filth.

“No you didn't,” the two of you begin to go back and forth, voice raising with every sentence.

“Yes, I did.”

“No you did not.”

“Um yes—”

“Um n—”

“Yes, how else was I going to be able to find out what was hurting him?” you interrupt, turning to face Hobi, feeling the migraine in your head about to pop.

“And why would you need to know that?”

“Because I lo—” you quickly catch yourself before you could complete the sentence, crossing your arms and pouting. Like hell you’d confess in front of Hobi.

Hobi looks at you knowingly, “Because you what,” he taunts, knowing exactly what you were going to say,

“Just drive,” you mumble, your attention back to the window beside you, focusing on the view of the city streets.

“Ah Y/N, there you are!” Jimin greets you and Hobi, having barely walked in from your argumentative car ride, “You’re on in like ten minutes,” he nervously chuckles, worrying only minutes ago that you were going to be a no-show.

“That quick?” you ask in complete shock, barely having taken off your dress-coat. The churns in your stomach begin to make you feel physically sick and there’s now a certain dryness to your throat that you could only accredit to the tension you were now feeling. Your palms were even beginning to get a little sweaty. Why were you doing this again? Oh yeah … Jungkook.

“Come on let’s go and get you set up,” Jimin tugs at your hand, pulling you to follow him. With your other hand, you attempt to look for your flash cards, wanting to remind yourself of the specific points you needed to cover.

“What the—” your heart drops, unable to feel the flimsy piece of paper anywhere near the coat that hung against your arm, “Oh no,” you murmur to yourself, not wanting to panic Jimin, “No, no, no,” you repeat to yourself.

“Okay here we are,” he stops you two in front of your draped-covered painting, pulling out a lapel mic from his pocket, clipping it onto the collar of your outfit. Now that you weren’t moving, you were now barely taking note of just how many people filled the galleria, and it was a lot. There had to be at least 200 people, minimum. Each and every one of them slowly looking around at the already unveiled art pieces, their eyes doing the judging for them.

“Jimin I don’t know—”

“Hey, you’re gonna do just fine, it’s just a bit of stage fright I’m sure,” he reassures, and though you appreciate the gesture, coming from him it just didn’t mean much. You see, Jimin has always been what's called an optimistic person, similar to you in a way. Always trying to find the good in the bad. But in order for his words to really have some effect, it would’ve been better if he was a pessimist, someone who always saw the negative in everything because then to hear that you would do just fine would come more as a shock rather than as something expected, someone like—

You shake your head,“I’m just,” your outfit suddenly begins to feel as if it's squeezing the life out of you, “I’m really nervous,” you whisper to him out of breath, watching as people begin to crowd around your area. Were the walls closing in or was it just you?

He begins to test the mic, “Jimin—” you repeat his name, a cry for help, “I can’t—” but it’s too late.

“Hello everyone,” he speaks into his own microphone, and you scan the audience to see if you can spot Hobi. When you do, you notice the look of panic he has on his own face, probably aware of your distressed state, knowing that there was nothing he could do about it, “This artist I’m introducing to you, has been a personal friend of mine for years. I’ve known her since my first year in college, and I can vouch for just how talented she is,” Jimin glances at you, unaware of just how truly panicked you were, “So without further ado, y/n take it away,” he steps away, leaving you under the sole spotlight.

Remaining silent for a moment, you stare at the several pairs of eyes that had their gaze solely focused on you. “H-Hello,” you stutter into the mic, glad that it wasn’t a handheld one as you were sure that you would’ve been a jittering mess, “Um my name is y/n l/n,” you nervously smile, trying to find something to focus your attention on. Originally you planned on staring at Hobi the whole time, only to find out it made you even more of a stuttering mess. God, was it getting hot in here.

“So um I think we should um reveal the painting first,” you sputter out, signalling to Jimin that it was time. Slowly he removes the drape, the sound of clapping providing you a bit of a soothing effect. People liked it. People freaking liked it. It felt as if a brick or two had been dropped from your shoulders.

You gulp continuing with your speech, “So I um—” breathe y/n, “I call this piece safety net,” you turn sideways towards the painting, ready to explain, “I call it that because as y-you can see in the painting,” you mindlessly point to it as if the audience couldn’t see it themselves, “There’s the um the figure falling into what I call a safety net of flowers and—” you stare at the painting along with them, finding yourself getting lost in your own work, “well I painted this after—” you pause, the room completely silent, “after finding myself wanting to be someone’s safety net,” you mumble to yourself, a certain person coming to mind.

There’s an awkwardness to the room, the kind of stiffness you only find in tense moments. You weren’t sure if it was because the audience was trying to be respectful or you were just making a complete mess out of yourself, but either way Jimin awkwardly coughs, “So um we will now take questions from the audience,” Jimin hesitantly says, by now noticing the extremely panicked state you were in, but unsure of what to do.

A woman raises her hand, a volunteer for the galleria handing her a mic, “Hello,” she politely greets, giving you a warm smile, “So I was curious as to why you chose two colors that don’t conventionally go well together, I was wondering if you did that on purpose or…” and though you know her question means no harm, the voice in your head was convincing you that this was some kind of an attack.

“I um—” your breathing becomes heavier, “I—” Just speak, you keep telling yourself. Tell her that you chose two colors because they represented two different personalities. Say something you freaking idiot. “I um c-chose—” you begin to hear the sound of people murmuring all around you, their voices echoing loudly through your head. What were they saying? Did they hate your painting? Did they think it made absolutely no sense? Was it really that bad? What were you thinking when agreeing to do all this? How could you have been convinced to do this? You didn’t paint anymore for this exact reason.

With every thought that races through your mind, the sudden sense of impending doom only becomes stronger and your rapid breathing becomes louder. You had to be sweating because God did it feel like a fucking sauna in here. The tightness in your throat wasn’t helping at all as well only making the feeling of nausea further overwhelming. You needed to get out of here. Now.  

And so without thinking… you run.

You yank out the mic and begin to run to God knows where, ignoring the shouts of your name along with the small number of gasps that could be heard.You needed to breathe again, and you desperately needed this feeling of danger to be gone.

Trying not to bump into too many people walking the dark city streets of Seoul, focusing on the sound of your heels clicking against the pavement, tuning out everything around you. “Just run,” you tell yourself, “Run until no one can find you.”

Soon the sound of your heels clacking against the pavement becoming the sound of your heels crunching against leaves. The pitch blackness of your surroundings causes tears to begin to well up, the trembling of your fingers along with the chills running down your spine making you feel as if you were running in an endless loop. Stop. Stop. Stop.

You come to sudden halt, pushing your arm against a nearby tree, desperately trying to catch your breath. You were alone now, isn’t this what you wanted? So then why did you still feel as if the world was crashing down on you. Why couldn’t you breathe? Why were hot tears spilling from your eyes? What the hell was wrong with you?

By now your sobs are in full force, your heaving chest only adding to its force. Because of your crying, you fail to hear a voice, “There you are!” Jungkook catches his breath, surprised at how fast you could run in heels. For a small second he thought he had lost you in the chase, with the way you maneuvered around everyone, he was thankful he hadn’t.

“Y/N,” he calls out, expecting you to turn, but he’s met with silence. You were having a panic attack, a bad one at that. Making his way closer to you, he’s careful in how he approaches you, grabbing your hand before you could run any further, “Y/N,” he repeats, this time turning you to face him, but you continue to cry in hysteria, your vision blurred by just how fast tears were falling from your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me y/n,” he cups your face with his hands, a worrisome but firm look on his face, “I need you to breathe with me, okay?” your chest continues to heave, the rapid breaths of air coming from your mouth at an alarming rate, “Y/N!” he shouts, causing you to go silent, “Y/N…” he softly repeats, knowing he’s gotten your attention. You stare at him in silence, “One,” he inhales a big breath of air, “Two,” he exhales out, “Inhale,” he repeats his actions again, “Exhale,” he breathes out.

Slowly you begin to follow. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

In no time, your heartbeat begins to slow down, your mind focused enough on the task at hand that you begin to forget why you were ever panicked to begin with. “Hey,” Jungkook whispers, caressing your cheek with his hand, “You’re doing great,” he reassures you, providing you the words of comfort you so desperately needed to hear right now.

It had been so long since you’d gone through having a panic attack, almost forgetting just how bad they could sometimes get. But for now staring into Jungkook’s eyes and practicing some breathing exercises was enough to remember that no matter how bad they got, you’d get through them.

His fingers gently graze your cheeks, continuing to mumble small phrases of reassurance while you were getting control of yourself.  “Has anyone ever told you,” you place a finger to the corner of his eye, quietly breathing your words out, “you have very round eyes,” you say and Jungkook lets a huffed laugh out in response.

He scrunches his nose and smiles, “Yeah, a lot of people have actually,” he laughs, a toothy grin spreading across his face while he uncups your cheeks, feeling a sense of tranquility wash over him as he knew you were going to be just fine, “I’ve been told they look like a doe’s eyes,” you quietly nod your head yes, agreeing with his statement, a warm smile on your face.

“Come on,” he intertwines your fingers, gently pulling you to follow him and leading you to a park bench that was near. But the thing was, it wasn’t just any park bench, it was the park bench from the night Jungkook was drunk and the two of you had gotten into the fight with that drunk man. What were the odds? You hadn’t even noticed that you ran this far till now...  

He exhales a large breath of air once you two sit, allowing a neither comfortable nor awkward silence fill the air. Despite the heartwarming moment that happened only minutes ago, there were still things that needed to be talked about. Things that simply couldn’t be forgotten. It was the sole reason he had gone to the art exhibition because he wanted, no, he needed to talk to you.

He just hadn’t expected to see you running out in complete panic right as he walked in. The tears that were slowly rolling down from your eyes, causing him to feel a sudden sense of heartbreak. For the only reason you’d ever cry would be if your hard work were to be destroyed, whether physically or emotionally. It was the same despaired look you had given him that fateful day he decided to throw everything good that was becoming of his life out the window.

And so to see the scene in front of him play out had definitely caused both a mix of anger and sadness to boil within him. His urge to defend and protect you, almost overcoming his need to go out and make sure you were okay. That was until he found himself running out the door, signalling to Hobi that he’d handle it.

And so now here the two of you were, quietly sitting on a park bench with your hands being the only things physically touching, a comfort of its own for the both of you. It didn’t feel weird nor did it feel wrong because if anything it just felt right.

A part of you thinks and hopes it could remain like this forever, scared that if it didn't, you’d have to return back to the world where you and Jungkook were nothing more than strangers who were once friends. The world where acting as if one or the other didn’t exist was completely normal. The one where you’d find your heart selfishly longing for him despite stubbornly not wanting to. And so whether it be for a small second, a minute, or an hour, for now at least you just wanted to savor the moment because who knew what would possibly happen if he decided to leave and never come back.

“Y/N…” he begins.

“Shh,” you whisper, your puffy eyes softly gazing at the view of the trees in front of you, the silhouettes of trees as well sound of the wind softly pushing against the branches, a view you were once so scared of, not so scary anymore, “Just one more second,” you close your eyes, taking in one final breath of air. Jungkook feels his heart swell at the sight, remembering the scene from only months ago where it had been you doing all the staring. You pull his hand when you’re ready, your soft gaze now directed towards him.

“I just—” he begins to stutter, “I wanted to—” he feels his eyes get watery, the rush of emotion he was beginning to feel almost overwhelming him, “I wanted to say I’m sorry,” his voice slightly cracks, “for everything,” he whispers, allowing a tear to fall from his eye, feeling the weight he had been holding onto his shoulders now falling. The small leaks of vulnerability that you had occasionally seen now completely flooding through his walls of defense, that single tear becoming several, until soon you hear a sob emit from his mouth, but by then you have him wrapped in a hug, the sound of his sobs being muffled by your shoulder. Slowly you caress his hair, gently stroking and twirling the locks of his wavy hair in between your fingers, deciding that this time around silence was the best way to go.

“I’m so sorry,” he hysterically cries, holding onto you tighter, as if you’d go anywhere. He begins to shake his head, struggling to find the words that’d best describe how he felt at this current moment, “I’m—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” it’s your turn to say the words, gently pushing him off you so he could meet your gaze, “I know,” you reassure, “and I forgive you. The same way I’m sure you’ve forgiven me for snooping around your room like that,” you jokingly assume, and he smiles despite having red bloodshot eyes, “We were angry, and we said and did things that we shouldn't had but that doesn’t mean we have to hold them over our own heads for the rest of our lives,” you grip his hand tighter, “you made a mistake, and I made one as well. And rather than explode on one another and ignore each other, we should’ve talked about where we went wrong, and yeah,” you repeat your words from months ago, “maybe we didn’t get to do this as early as we hoped, in fact we’re quite late,” you giggle, “but we’re here nonetheless. And so let’s talk,” you say, ready to listen to the boy you had fallen in love with.  

Jungkook stares at you in silence, a million thoughts racing through his mind, wondering how you always knew exactly what to say at the exact moment, “I,” he hesitates before continuing, “I need to start from the beginning,” he says, wiping any residue from the tears in his eyes, ready to open up the book he had kept closed for so long.

You nod to him, signalling that you were listening, “When I was a kid, I um,” he gulps, “I guess you could say I had a knack for boxing. Originally, my dad had taught me as a way to protect myself if I ever came across a situation that’d require me to defend myself,” his fingers begin to fidget within yours, a sign that he was nervous. Quick to soothe him, you rub small circles on the palms of his hands, his gaze occasionally avoiding eye contact.

“But I also think it was because my dad, who once wanted to be a boxer himself, saw me a way to vicariously live out his dream. Because soon he noticed that the knack I had for it was more of a talent,” a small smile appears on his lips, “and well by then he had begun to seriously train me… I remember always coming back after school and dulging right into practice, waking up on weekends and running laps at the park with my dad in order to gain stamina, and just,” he exhales a breath, “and just thinking to myself how proud I wanted to make him,” uncontrollably a tear falls from his face once again, and he tries to gain his composure before continuing, not wanting to begin the sob fest too early, “Once he thought I was ready, my dad had begun to sign me up for amatuer competitions, and well I did amazing,” Jungkook laughs.

“And soon boxing would become the sport I’d find myself building my life upon, but one day—“ he sighs, knowing the conclusion to his own story and well this was only the beginning, “one day during high school we had this um career day I guess you could call it, and well long story short after going around and listening to how passionate some of spokespersons were of their careers, I remember thinking, is boxing something I was doing for myself or for my father?”

A sad smile appears on his face, “I think the most confusing part for me was that I wasn't exactly passionate about anything else but I also just knew deep down in my heart that boxing wasn’t for me, you know? To this day I don’t know what exactly it is I'm passionate for,” he laughs, “and I certainly don’t see myself making coffee and flipping pancakes for the rest of my life,” he jokes around, an attempt the make the atmosphere a little lighter, “but I think with the help of someone I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s okay to be a bit of a late bloomer,” he winks at you, “one day I’ll wake up and just know…”

You give him a small reassuring smile, happy to know that he’s learned his own lessons along the way, even if it required a bit of pushing.

”But back to my story,” he awkwardly laughs, the small feign of happiness gone, “Though I had realized it already… maybe it was because I was scared, or maybe it was just—” he shakes his head, unable to find the words, “I just,” he sighs, “I just couldn’t tell my dad because for me telling my dad would feel as if I was telling him that all the years of hard work were going down the drain. That the endless nights of working out and exhausting ourselves to sleep were all for nothing. And so when my dad told me that managed to get me a spot at some training camp in the states, I took it. I mean it wasn’t like I had anything going for me here in Korea, and well I needed to guarantee my own future,” he shifts uncomfortably, remembering everything a little too vividly.

“I did pretty well for a couple years, slowly began climbing the ranks, and the natural talent I had for the sport was beginning to really shape itself, even catching the attention of prominent sport reporters. Long story short, I’d find myself surrounded with nothing but yes men and leeches who wanted nothing more than a piece of my so called success,” he gazes off to the distance, ashamed of the ego that had been built as a result of such people, “and well when you get told that you’re the best, that no one can stop you, that you’re untouchable, you truly begin to believe it,” he lets out a chuckle, “so when Brandon Star, a man who was nearly out of my weight class, began to provoke me for a fight on television after winning some match and I kept hearing from my so called friends that it’d be an easy match or that it was a guaranteed win, how could I say no? Of course at the time I didn’t know that they would be betting against me… so I said yes.”

A momentary silence fills the air as Jungkook had never told this whole story to anyone, the revealing of everything somewhat freeing for him, “A part of me knew I was way in over my head, it was like a gut feeling, you know? But I needed someone, anyone, to tell me the truth and to confirm what I was thinking. I needed someone who was going to criticize me instead of nodding their head yes and pretending that everything was going to be just fine. I think that’s why when I first met you, you reminded me so much of the people who were around me in the states, faking a smile in order to spare my feelings.” Sadness clouds his features, ashamed of how he took everything out on you when all you were doing was simply being the person you always were... kind. For that, he was truly sorry.

“Anyways,” he continues, “that night of the fight, the feeling I had in my stomach was overwhelming. I told my dad, who was helping prep me backstage like he always did, that I felt nervous. That I was scared,” his voice cracks and he closes his eyes, remembering the scene as if it was yesterday, “and my dad well...he’s always struggled with separating being a father and being a trainer,” Jungkook tries to contain the sob that’s begging to come out, “but at that moment I just needed my dad. I needed him to tell me that win or lose everything was going to be fine. That he’d be proud of me no matter what,” he finally cries, and as you’re about to pull him into another hug, he vigorously shakes his head, stopping you from doing so.

“No, I need to finish thi—”

“Jungkook,” you softly interrupt because it wasn’t that you didn’t want to hear anymore, you just weren’t sure if you could hear anymore without at some point sobbing yourself,  “you don’t need to, especially if you’re not ready,” you stare at him with a sad look on your face.

“No, you deserve to know,” he firmly states, “you deserve to know,” he quietly repeats to himself. You nod your head in understanding, waiting for him to continue as he wipes away his tears with the sleeve of his shirt, composing himself.

“He told me that I’d do just fine, that the son he’s trained so long for wouldn’t fail him now,” he mumbles, the words of his father still echoing in his mind, “When you go and box, you’re supposed to enter that ring with no concerns of the real world, you’re supposed to put any negative or anxious thoughts you had outside the ring to rest. Because the moment you let just one of those thoughts seep through, you might as well hang up your gloves right then and there,” his expression hardens, “I went into that ring knowing I was going to lose…”

“From there I don’t remember too much,” he bitterly lets out a laugh, “I just remember being on a gurney and feeling the heaviness of Star’s punches beginning to weigh down on my chest, clearly having done some damage to my ribs,” he sighs, “but the moment I remember so clearly is my parents trying to make their way to me, doing their best to push their way in an effort to see me. I don’t know if it was because I was just so mad at myself,” his voice shakes, “or because I confused the look of sadness on my dad’s face with disappointment, but at the time—“ his voice falters again, “At the time I thought how ashamed he must’ve been of me,” he fights through his tears, trudging through the story, “And so as I was being lifted into the truck, I kept yelling how this was his fault, that it weren’t for him I wouldn’t be in this position,” Jungkook lifts his head up, combing a hand through his hair.

“When I got to the hospital, I refused to let my parents see me, I was just too—“ God, did he sometimes wish he could go back in time and change everything, “I was too stubborn, too ashamed with myself to even look at them. So I ran,” he says, catching you by surprise, “I needed time alone so I ran,” he repeats, “I ran before they could find me, I just got up and ran,” there’s a haunting emptiness that lingers in his voice, one that brings chills down your spine.

“I called Hobi, and I told him that I needed to redeem a favor,” your mind flashes back to the night Hobi told you what he knew, “And I thought this is what I needed. That I’d be okay with starting anew, and that if I could firmly plant my feet in Seoul then I could visit my parents in Busan, and tell them how sorry I was without them having to worry too much about what the future would hold for me… and explain to them what happened, what I felt, and why I ran. That was my plan,” his voice cracks, “I was reaching a point in my life where I felt so content, so happy. I’d wake up to see you and Hobi making breakfast while imitating some random girl group dance and think to myself how things had managed to turn out so well for me despite my failure in the states. Or when we binged on One Piece episodes that whole night while stuffing our faces in tubed ice cream and I just felt like a little kid again without a worry in the world. But then …”  

Jungkook feels the heavy feeling in his chest grow, “He passed away,” and just like that Jungkook feels as if the air has come out of his lungs, the same way it did the night he found out.

You feel your heart break at his words, recognition dawning over your face as everything was beginning to make sense. “My mom had managed to find my number in order to tell me there’d been an accident, and I just couldn’t believe it at first,” he attempts to hide his grief by stifling a sob, “I didn’t want to get up from bed at first because getting up would mean facing reality, it’d mean accepting that it wasn’t some kind of twisted fucked up nightmare but that it was real. That the last sight my dad saw of me was on some gurney,” his face twists, “that the last words I ever said to him were so—“ he breaks down, sobbing once again and this time you feel your own hot salty tears fall from your eyes, wrapping in such a tight hug that you weren’t sure if it was for his or your own sake.

He cries a sound so raw that it was almost as if the wound was still freshly cut, his hand clasping tightly onto your clothing for support. Any last defensive wall he had up was washed away by his salty tears, finally facing the final waves of grief, loss, and devastation in the arms of the person he had taken everything out on. The person he didn’t deserve at all, but had stayed nonetheless. You whisper sweet comforting words to his ear, wanting more than his grief to subside so that you could see the smile you loved so much appear on his face again.

“I just wish there was something I could’ve done differently,” he shakes his head, “so that he could know just how much his son loved and appreciated him,” he lifts his head up from your shoulder, wiping his tears away, and practicing his breathing as his chest had been heaving so bad because of his sobs, “And so that was why I completely changed that June and became cold. That was why I got so mad when I saw you in my room with the broken trophy I had gotten when I was a kid because I was just so reminded of everything,” he frowns, “and it had hit me like a freaking truck. To see my current world and the past one collide was just—“ he pauses, “overwhelming to say the least,” he concludes everything and you’re left there completely speechless.

You could’ve never in your wildest dreams even guessed that this was why Jungkook had come back to Seoul and why he had acted so cold for so long. His grievances had happened in such a short period of time, that all it took was one wrong move to set him completely off. No wonder he had kept himself so isolated … he knew he was ticking time bomb waiting to finally explode at any given moment.

The two of you stare at each other in silence, his words processing in both of your minds. You want to say the words that are currently repeating themselves in your mind, I love you. Three simple words that could make him forget his past, even if it was for a small moment in time. “Jungkook—” he looks up at you, “I—” you stutter, the words clinging onto the tip of your tongue, “I um,” you feel your chest become heavy as he stares at you in curiosity, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you force out instead. He furrows his eyebrows, ready to protest against your apology, but you’re quick to interrupt before he gets the chance to.

“Since you’re being so honest with me, I feel like it’s only right I’m honest with you,” you bite your lip, disappointed with your cowardice, “So that like that we get a better understanding of one another,” you feign a smile.

“There’s a reason why I got so um…” you pause, “anxious before and during the galleria,” you narrow your eyes, it was now your turn to open a book that’d long been left incomplete. “I told you right? That I was an art student at Busan’s Art college but that I ended up transferring after an incident occurred…” He quietly nods, allowing you to continue, “and well I think I’m ready to talk about it,” you let out a breathy chuckle.

He stares at you in silence, ready to listen as well. “Growing up, I really liked painting,” you laugh, recalling the memory of you painting on the walls as a kid, “for some reason it was something I found myself falling further in love with every calendar year, but my parents, well they were on the more skeptical side of making a career out of it. I mean I don’t really blame them,” you sound unsure, “I mean I know that it’s hard these days to find success in the world of arts, or at least the level of success most people want to obtain but originally for me it didn’t matter,” you chuckle, remembering how naive you had been.

“Before entering college, I’d sell my little paintings and merchandise on those small-business centric websites like Etsy and stuff,” you say for example, “and you’re right, when you get told that you’re good at something, you really begin to believe it…”

Jungkook wants to interrupt and tell you that whatever your situation was, was much more different than his. That you were actually good at what you did, no, you were amazing at it. He wasn’t sure if he could listen to you talk down on yourself, but nonetheless he continues to listen.

“My first year of college I met people like Jimin who were so passionate about what they do that it really cemented the idea I had in wanting to turn my water painting into a career,” you sigh, “but in the back of my mind I always did have tiny doubts that lingered, and I always made sure not to feed them too much, but when you’re surrounded by people who are just as talented or even better than you, it gets hard not to.”

Jungkook completely understands where you’re coming from, having been in a similar position himself before. “And it didn’t help that my parents were constantly breathing down my neck about finding a different career to focus on,” you shrug “anyways,” you continue, shaking your head, “In Busan’s Art College, like many other colleges there are departments, like STEM and Business for example, but in this case things are separated by like dance, art, film, et cetera. And well if you can’t tell I’m a bit of a … pushy … person,” you laugh and Jungkook softly smiles, neither agreeing or disagreeing, “I think it’s due to me always feeling a need to overcompensate my insecurities, I guess. Like when you first moved in, in order to reassure myself that you didn’t hate me, the pushy side of me came out,” you explain, and the same way you began to understand Jungkook as he was explaining his story, Jungkook was beginning to understand you as a person.

“Well back to the focal point, I was a part of a committee club for painters within the art department, thinking that if I took charge of something, it’d increase my chances in succeeding in my career once I graduated. But the thing is, is when you join those committees I guess you could say there’s like a hierarchy of some sort, a cliché come to life,” you try your best to keep the conversation as lighthearted as you can, wanting the energy in the air to become one that was positive, a reflection of just how much you two had grown, “and well during my second year we were all assigned a project for some city poster in which we’d present to the committee’s leader, Nari, and where she and a couple of others would then choose which one was going to be used. And let me tell you, this was a career making project. The people who were going to be at the unveiling were names like Ji Hye Yeom, Haegue Yang, and more,” you sigh knowing you were coming to the rough part of the story.

“Nari had specifically told us that we were to only use materials she had chosen for us, and limited us to certain color schemes that in my opinion were the ugliest schemes I’d ever seen,” you scoff, “So me being the pushy person I am, I went ahead and continued with my original plan, which was making a watercolor painting because at the end of the day if my painting did happen to get chosen, I wanted it to be a genuine work of mine, not something that was limited by someone who was no more superior than me all because of some flimsy title,” you softly shake your head, “And so I poured my heart into it, working on it every chance I got during that school year in order to make sure that the committee would be so amazed , they’d have no choice but to choose it even if it didn’t exactly follow Nari’s regulations.”

A feigned smile graces onto your lips, refusing to cry at a situation from years ago, “I was so nervous that day to present it, but I was also so excited. Excited because I knew I created a piece that was so beautiful I—,” for a quick second your voice falters, but you’re quick to catch yourself, “I was just so sure they’d choose it,” you whisper, voice sounding frail and defeated.

“That day I presented it, I thought the silence that filled the room was because they were amazed,” you close your eyes for a moment, trying your best to push back any tears that wanted to make their way out, “God I still remember the extra specks of white and gold I added to it the night before, thinking those extra touches were really going to tip the scale in my favor,” you mumble, the embarrassment you felt that day coming back.

Jungkook feels his jaw harden, at this point an automatic response to the thought of your feelings being hurt. He didn’t know why, but to see someone as kind as you act out of character whether it be because you were mad or sad, always caused a heavy feeling in his chest. The only thing you deserved to feel was happiness and comfort, and though he wasn’t sure it was something, he, himself, could guarantee you … he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try.

“After what felt like 20 minutes, of complete silence she slowly got up in front of everyone,” you blankly stare at the trees in front of you, “I remember my heart beating out of my freaking chest for some reason, and the sweat beginning to form at my palms. And the moment she started speaking, I just went blank—” you turn to face Jungkook, who had a worrisome look on his face, “She started to berate me in front of everyone, insulting my hard work and telling me that even despite me breaking her guidelines, the painting still wasn’t any good,” you gulp, “But in fact, her words didn’t bother me at all,” you pause, “it was the comments from my supposed peers that really twisted the knife for me,” you scoff, “and then she did the unthinkable...”

Jungkook feels the heavy weight in his chest drop because he knows what you’re about to say. He knows what that woman did. And he knows why you were so hurt when he destroyed your painting, “She grabbed the canvas from the display board, and she ripped it,” you say, managing to muster up the smallest of smiles, but Jungkook knows that it's nothing more than a facade. An illusion so that he could think that you were no longer hurt by the actions of that woman.

“Once she did that, it just triggered everything else that followed after,” you furrow your brows, refusing to look at Jungkook, “I was being laughed at while having a panic attack,” you scoff, “I felt like I was in a scene from a high school movie,” you attempt to mask your hurt by making a joke.

“I ended up running out of the building, feeling as if my heart was going to explode from how fast it was pounding, and the compression in my throat was almost unbearable,” your voice cracks, “in just 20 minutes she took away any confidence I had in my artistic abilities, In just 20 minutes she made me question everything I knew about myself,” a tear finally falls from your eye, speaking the words you’d never said out loud before into the world.

“I attempted to stay at the school for a couple more weeks after that, but every time I picked up a paint brush, I just kept hearing her words along with the rest of my peers’ as well, second guessing every stroke I made on canvas. I had lost my spark,” you stifle a sob, “After that, I decided to transfer out and follow the plans’ my parents had always set out for me… and well, you know the rest,” you laugh in between your tears, wondering just how pitiful you must’ve looked. But soon enough you feel Jungkook's arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into a hug so tight, you never wanted him to let go.

“Don’t leave,” you mumble into his chest.

Jungkook reassures you by cooing a small, “I won’t”, but gently you pull away once he does, holding onto his hand instead. A look of confusion washes over his face.

“No—” you shake your head, realizing he’s misunderstood, “I mean don’t leave our apartment,” you sniffle, giving him a small warm smile, leftover tears still brimming the corners of your eyes. His mouth gapes slightly open, taken back by your statement. He had completely forgotten that he was supposed to be moving out by Monday.

“We—” you shake your head, deciding that “we” wasn’t the right word in this case, “I need you,” you state, nothing but sincerity behind your words. Jungkook feels his heart skip a beat, the close-eyed soft smile that covers your face only making him smile in return.

He doesn’t need to say anything because you know … you know that he needs you just as much as you need him. You know that he’ll never leave your side from this day on because tonight was the start of a new chapter in your lives, one that included each other. Gently he pulls you into another hug, the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest being a feeling he could get used to.

“How did you even know where the venue was, or what the time the whole thing was?” you ask Jungkook, questions that hadn’t crossed your mind that day now forming.

“Hobi sent me a text that same night, very um … straightforward?” Jungkook chuckles, “It read, Art Exhibition. **** Namgang-Ro. 7:30 PM. Formal attire. You either go or you don’t. Up to you. Just don’t go crying later on that you regret not going. And well I had debated for several hours, originally chickening out and deciding to use me not having any formal suits as an excuse. That was until I walked into my room to find that Hobi had ironed one of his own for me to use,” Jungkook explains, “And well luckily I grew some balls and went and well now we’re here,” he smiles at you.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t cut off too much of the story. We still have to remember all the good that came afterward,” you giggle, and he only flashes you an even bigger smile.

“Ah you’re right, you’re right. How could I forget?”

October 2019. 

“Happy Halloween!” you and Jungkook wave to the kid dressed as Iron Man, glancing at the clock which currently read 10:00PM. Mm you’d give it one more hour before permanently closing your doors and calling it a day even if Jungkook protested for more time.

“Happy Halloween!” you and Jungkook wave to the kid dressed as Iron Man, glancing at the clock which currently read 10:00PM. Mm you’d give it one more hour before permanently closing your doors and calling it a day even if Jungkook protested for more time.

You see, tonight was Halloween, and for the first time since you and Hobi moved to your guys’  apartment, you were giving out candy to the little kids of your apartment complex who usually went floor to floor trick or treating and it was all thanks to Jungkook. You were surprised really, you would’ve never taken Jungkook as being someone who was such a kid at heart.

After weeks of begging, he’d finally managed to convince you and Hobi to not only dress, but distribute candy. Usually you and Hobi would turn off all the lights and ignore the knocks you’d receive on the door, choosing to have a movie night than to participate in Halloween festivities.

Realistically speaking, you sorta expected Jungkook to go out and party tonight which is why when he notified you weeks prior that all of you were going to be participating in giving out candy, you couldn’t find it in you to say no. Hobi on the other hand required a lot of convincing and though he wasn’t exactly helping with the distribution of candy, watching him dressed as Batman while lazily sitting on the couch with a glass of wine in his hand was a gift in its own.

Jungkook, who desperately wanted to be a male version of Harley Quinn, had made you help him with cinching his crop top, exposing his toned lower abdomen every time he even stretched the slightest bit. It was…. quite a site … even causing several moms with their kids to “accidentally” stumble on your apartment floor again after only being there 10 minutes prior, your own little green monster finally making its appearance ….

But besides that, your favorite part of his whole costume was definitely the face/eye makeup he had done. The smoky blue and red along with the fake tatted heart under his left eye truly acting as the selling point of his costume. It just made him look very hot, more than usual. Hobi had even caught you staring at the boy on several occasions, teasingly nudging you whenever he did.

With Hobi dressed as Batman and Jungkook dressed as Harley Quinn, that of course only left you, who was currently dressed as none other than a female version of the Joker from Suicide Squad because despite how shitty the movie was, the style in which they made the Joker was still indeed very cool. Jungkook had even lent you his own natural artistic abilities to draw the tattoos where your dominant hand couldn’t firmly paint, laughing at the “twinsies” jokes you made in reference to his own tattoos. It had even given you the opportunity to ask him what each one of his own real tattoos meant to him.

Most of his tattoos, he explained, were done out of impulse. A majority of them being done in the states on a complete whim, but a couple of them held significant meaning to him. For example, his tattoo of a bandaged hand clearly represented his history with boxing. He explained that rather than get the overused boxing gloves as a tattoo, he’d get a simple bandaged hand done, deciding that it looked cooler and that you agreed with. Another example was the tattoo that translated to “Life Goes On” which was pretty self-explanatory, but meaningful nonetheless. Jungkook explained that it was one his favorite mottos growing up, and well recently it seemed to weave perfectly into his life.

But your favorite tattoo? The small One Piece manga strip he had across his left forearm. The story behind it almost caused you to shed a tear, had it not been for your white powdered makeup, you probably would've cried. You see, when Jungkook was a young boy he’d always watch One Piece as a distraction from boxing, falling in love with the story and its characters.

His dad, who’d always scold him whenever he caught him late at night watching the anime, never understood why Jungkook liked the show so much. It wasn’t until one night he somehow managed to convince his dad to watch the episode he was on, and despite not knowing anything about what was going on nor the characters’ names, his dad ended up loving the show just as much as him. The show had acted as a new bond between the two, from buying the latest manga volumes to staying up late at night to watch the newest episode. And well the strip on Jungkook’s arm was from the exact episode he had managed to convince his dad to watch with him that night. The tattoo serves as a representation of a memory he holds dearest to him, a memory of his dad.

“Ah I think that’s the last of it,” Jungkook looks into the last bag of candy he had bought, absolutely nothing left inside, “Wasn’t this fu—”

“Let’s go get a tattoo,” you interrupt, the idea coming to you out of nowhere. Jungkook tilts his head in confusion, eyebrows furrowing. A tattoo? You? Ms. I do not even have a dot of ink on my skin?

“A tattoo!?” Hobi turns from the TV, now having got his attention.

Both men stare at you in silence, thinking this was all some big joke until you begin to nod, reaffirming your choice, “Yes! All three of us! Matching roommate tattoos,” you smile, not exactly sure what had gotten into you, but surprisingly... completely okay with it.

Jungkook, noticing just how serious you were about this, begins to feel a smile form on his face. It wasn’t like he minded, he just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to regret it the next morning, “Y/N, you sure you one? I mean … you’re not someone I picture getting a tattoo, I mean think of your job,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, think of your job!” Hobi butts in, clearly not in favor of getting a tattoo.

Vigorously, you nod your head, “I’m one hundred percent sure,” you laugh, “I promise you, I won’t regret it,” you stick out your pinky finger, and Jungkook is quick to hug it with his own.

“W-What the?” Hobi stutters, unsure if it was the alcohol or shock in his system causing it. Probably both.

You turn to Hobi, “If you really don’t want it, then you don’t have to get it,” you shrug, “But at least come with us,” you smile, hoping that once you were there at the parlor shop you’d be able to convince him.

Sitting on the leather stool with your forearm displayed, the tattooist begins to prep your skin placing rubbing alcohol on the area in which you had chosen to get your tattoo. Now that you are here, you couldn’t lie, you were a bit nervous. But mostly because you were skeptical of the pain the needle would give you. 

Jungkook had described it as “a cat repeatedly scratching a sunburn”... as if you were supposed to know what that means. He also said that depending on your pain tolerance you’d either like the feeling, get used to it, or absolutely hate it. It just varied from person to person as well as the placement where you were choosing to get it.

Supposedly the inner wrist didn’t hurt, but with the sudden stinging sensation you were feeling, you were a bit unsure of that now.

“So is that your boyfriend out there?” the woman tattooing you suddenly asks, catching you completely by surprise. If she didn’t have a pricking needle against your skin , you probably would’ve jumped at the accusation.

Trying your best to keep your cool, you respond, “Oh um—” you shake your head, “No,” you awkwardly laugh, “I wish”, you think to yourself.

“Hmm,” she hums, the same smirk Jimin once gave you appearing on her face, “Sorta seemed like it out there, I mean I’m sure if he had the option he would’ve chosen to sit here right next to you and hold your hand,” she teases, and a blush appears on your cheeks.

“Oh that’s just how he is with everyone,” you reason, not wanting to feed into the delusions that Jungkook could possibly return any feelings for you, “He’s a very protective person, sometimes a little too much, but it has its benefits,” you joke around.

She shrugs, continuing to work on the small tattoo, “”Mm I don’t know, I mean the way with the way he looks at youuuu,” she sings, “because you clearly like him,” she laughs.

“No I don’t!” you pout, “We’re just close friends, that’s all….”

“Close friends don’t look at each other like that, and they’re certainly not as touchy as you two are,” she says, only causing you to scoff.

“You don’t know what you’re ta—”

“All done!” she smiles, wiping over the fresh new ink on your skin one last time, “Look how easy it was for me to get you to stop wincing so much,” she winks at you, and suddenly everything begins to make sense. She was trying to get you to relax. Was the topic she chose really the best one? No. But it worked didn’t it?

She places the plastic wrap over it, “So what do you think?” you stare at the new permanent piece of work on your skin, a small smile gracing your lips.

“Ah I—”

“Love it so much!” you flash Jungkook the two-month old ink on your skin, the digital numbers “00:00” acting as a permanent reminder of the day all three of you officially became roommates. It was small, yes, but to you it meant so much.

Jungkook pulls his own sleeve, showing you his own matching ink, “Zero o’ clock,” he hums, recalling a song he heard not too long ago on the radio.

“Ah too bad we couldn’t convince Hobi to get one,” you sigh, remembering how firm he was that night, “but we’ll get him next time,” you laugh.

Jungkook quirks his brow, “Next time?”

You nod your head, “I can see why people get addicted to these things,” you joke, “they’re like their own pieces of art,” you smile.

“Design mine next time,” he suddenly says, his statement coming off more as a command than a question. Turning to face him, you look for any small sign that he was joking.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope,” he pops the ‘p’, “I think a watercolor style painting would look amazing rightttt,” he points to the side of his ribcage, “here.”

Eyes widening in shock, you’re in complete disbelief, “You—you’re crazy!” you laugh, refusing to take him seriously.

“Ah I’m being serious Y/N,” he pouts, “Come on you know you want toooo,” he sings, softly nudging you.

You stare at him for a moment, “Are you sure?” you ask, skeptical about his seriousness.

He nods, “As sure as you were about getting that tattoo that night,” he teases, and you only roll your eyes in return.

“Mmm,” you hum, “I’ll think about it.”

“Think?! I’m your roommate!” he dramatically complains, throwing his head against your shoulder, suddenly in a clingy mood. Maybe the tattooist was right… maybe you two were a little too touchy….

You mean, just last month during friendsgiving, Hobi just had to complain in front of everyone claiming, “If you two don’t get your own room—”

“Then I think at some point this turkey is going to come back alive just to tell you two himself,” he slurs his words, wine glass in hand.

Drunk Yoongi tags in, “How do you know it’s a he?” he squints his eyes, gearing up for a debate.

Hobi rolls his eyes and makes a dismissive motion with his hand, “Not now Yoongi,” he says, causing everyone sitting at the table to laugh, and he turns his attention back to you and Jungkook, currently sitting next to each other, “Are you two going to continue playing footsies or are you finally going to—”

Seokjin interrupts by awkwardly coughing and tapping his champagne glass with his fork, getting up from his seat in the process, “I think it’s the perfect time to do our annual “What am I thankful for” toast, so I’ll begin,” he laughs, all eyes on him, “So um this year I am thankful for all of my friends who continuously stick by side throughout the years, and for the wonderful woman I’ve grown to love more and more every day,” he warmly smiles at his girlfriend, the two already seeming like a married couple despite having only met this year. Seokjin turns his attention to Yoongi, signalling that it was his turn.

He groans before getting up, peeved as to why Seokjin always insisted on doing these things, “Okay okay—”

“This is gonna take a while,” you whisper to Jungkook, Yoongi’s speech now fading into the background.

Jungkook quietly chuckles in response, “You think? How long do you think it’ll take before he starts with his  “back in my day” speech?” he jokes around.

Suddenly Yoongi’s voice becomes more audible, “Back in my day we didn’t use—”

You and Jungkook snortle a laugh, “Not long,” you respond, the two of you trying your best to keep your snickering at a low.

“So … got anything prepared?” he asks, this being his first year and all doing this kind of thing, he was a bit nervous as to what to say.

You shake your head, “Mm no, you just sorta say what’s on your mind? I guess?” you awkwardly laugh, “Trust me, as long as they have their bottles of soju next to them, whatever you say will go in one ear and out the other,” you reassure, remembering the first year you did this and gave a heartwarming speech, just for it to be ignored because Namjoon could’ve sworn he’d seen the “turkey move”. From there it led to an hour debate on whether a dead freaking turkey could still possibly be alive after having it in the oven for several hours.

He nods his head, noting what you’ve said.

After going around it was now the last toast of the night,“Ah and lastly onto our newest member in this friend group,” Namjoon, who had just finished his own speech, turns to Jungkook and pats his shoulder, “take it away,” he gives him a dimpled smile before sitting back in his seat.  

Jungkook awkwardly blinks at him for a moment, not getting up until you nudge him to do so. “Oh yeah…” he forces a laugh, “Um so where do I begin,” you almost feel second hand embarrassment, if you thought you weren’t any good under pressure, Jungkook might take the crown.

“So… The first thing I want to say I’m thankful for are the new friends I’ve made since coming to Seoul,” he spares a glance to the boys, “um..” he bites his lip, “The second thing or person may I say, that I want to thank is Hobi…” he smiles at the drunk man, “well for giving me a second chance per say,” he chuckles, “I know I don’t say it often, but I’m truly grateful for you picking up my call that night,” Hobi gives a small warm smile, “And well the last person I want really want to mention that I’m thankful for is … you,” Jungkook suddenly turns his attention down to you, catching you by surprise.

Raising your eyebrows, you wonder where this is coming from, “I um—” he feighs a small laugh, “I know I wasn’t exactly the nicest person when I first moved in, but—” he exhales a breath, “But you gave continuously gave me a chance to prove otherwise every single time until I finally got it right,” he smiles, “and well last year I had a pretty rough year,” he jokes around, “and honestly I thought coming in 2019 it’d be just bad, but you single handedly proved me wrong and made sure this was going to be a year for me to remember and well for that I’m forever grateful,” you silently blink away any tears, not wanting to get teased at for crying after this his speech was done. He breaks away the gaze he held on you in order to finish his speech off, “So with that I say … cheers everyone!”

Everyone raises their glasses of whatever it was they chose to drink, clinking it all in the middle and repeating “Cheers!” before gulping down whatever was left of their drinks. The rest of the night is filled with nothing but laughs and joy, as well as the remainder of the month, every single day creating a new memory for the three of you, until you were left with nothing but...

“The present day,” you whisper to yourself, unable to believe that the year had gone by so fast.

“What a year it’s been huh…” Jungkook softly smiles, glancing at the time on his phone which reads 11:50. 10 more minutes until the new year. 10 more minutes until zero’o clock.

“Yeah…” a comfortable silence fills the air around you, how had the hour gone by in the blink of an eye? You wonder if it’s the effect Jungkook just naturally has on people because never did you find time going by so fast unless you were with him.

“I—”

“So—”

Your cheeks become a tinge of pink , “Oh you go first—” he shakes his head.

“No, no, go ahead,” he laughs, insisting that you go instead.

This was the perfect chance, the chance to tell him about the feelings you’d grown to have for him in the past year. You just needed to grow the courage to say those three letter words that were itching to be said. It was either now or never.  

“I um, I just wanted to say thank you,” you chicken out once again, “I didn’t get the chance to say it on friendsgiving, but,” you gulp, “your speech it um meant a lot to me, and well I’m just as grateful for you,” you chuckle, “I think maybe even more.”

Had you noticed, you would’ve seen the slightly disappointed look on Jungkook’s face, “Oh..” he says, a small pout appearing on his face.

“What were you going to say?” you ask, faking the pep in your voice, ready to eternally scold yourself for being a chicken once you got back to the cabin.

He sighs, “It’s nothing really,” he shrugs, but you nudge his shoulder before he could divert the conversation elsewhere.

“Come on, just say it,” you tease, “because you either speak now or forever hold your piece,” you look at the time, “5 minutes till midnight.”

He stays silent for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should say what had been on his mind for quite some time, “I um—” fuck it, it was either now or never, “You know how I told you that I couldn’t sleep right? That it’s why I came out here…” you innocently nod your head as he continues, “well it’s cause I had already sorta been thinking about everything that’s happened this year…” he lets out a small chuckle.

“I mean isn’t it crazy?” he pushes his hair back with his hand, “Someone who was nothing more than a stranger before the clock hit twelve that night is now someone I can’t picture not being in my life,” you feel your heart flutter at his words, “And I mean to think we didn’t get along at first,” he lets out a breath of disbelief, “All because I was a person who was—” he pauses, unsure of how to describe himself from that time, “angry,” he decides to say, “I was an angry person who mad at the world,” he bites his lip in retribution for his attitude back then.

“No,” you laugh, shaking your head, “you were just someone who was… hurt. That’s all it was,” you say.

“You think?” you nod your head yes, “I never really thought about it like that,” he mumbles, “Would you do it all over again?” he suddenly asks, and you find yourself quirking your brow at his question, “Like if you had the chance would you do it all over again…” he further explains.

Without a second thought you say, “Yeah I would,” you giggle, “And you?”

He remains silent for a moment, pondering on his own question before nodding his head as well, “I wouldn’t mind doing it all over again because then I’d get to relive the process of falling in love with you all over again,” he finally says, “I’d get to pinpoint the exact moment this year that I fell in love with you.”

“In ten, nine, eight…” the families around you begin to shout the countdown, and all you can do is stare at Jungkook in disbelief of what you just heard come out of his mouth.

“Y-You love me?” you manage to stutter out, a smile now forming on your lips.

“Seven, six, five…..”

Silently, he nods his head, a loving smile on his face as he leans towards you, the flutter in your stomach only intensifying.

“Four, three, two, one….”

And as if time had stopped, his lips finally meet yours and the only thing you could feel were the placement of warm lips against yours, giving you a New Year’s kiss that would be remembered for years to come.

“Happy New Year!” the sound of fireworks popping are echoed in the background because the only thing you could focus on were the soft lips that were moving with yours. His fingers curl around yours, creating such an intimacy that you were sure you had to be dreaming. It wasn’t until you found yourself kissing him back that the reality of everything finally set in. Jungkook loved you.

Slowly he pulls away, savoring the kiss till its very last moment, “Happy New Years Y/N,” he whispers, a grin plastered on his face.

Laughing in return, you smile, “Happy New Years Jungkook.”

**

Once you and Jungkook returned to the cabin, you were met with several complaints from Hobi, “Finally! We’ve been freezing all night!” Hobi exclaimed the moment you two walked in, harshly grabbing the firewood from Jungkook’s hands. It wasn’t until he peeped your linked arms that everything began to make sense, “Ahhh,” he gives you two a toothy grin, “You guys, look who’ve finally confessed to one another,” he yells, catching the attention of everyone in the living room.

Suddenly the room is filled with several “finally’s” causing both of your mouths to slightly agape open. “What do you mean “finally” ?” you furrow your eyebrows, looking at Hobi for an explanation.

He scoffs, “Don’t act dense you two!” he laughs, “It was so obvious you two liked one another, you two were just too blind to see it yourselves,” he scolds both you and Jungkook by flicking your foreheads, “You just didn’t have to go confessing while all of us were freezing in here!”

Both you and Jungkook awkwardly laugh, a guilty look on one another’s face. “Well choo you two before I make you two clean everything up and babysit our friends!” Hobi makes a motion with his hands, and the two of you are quick to make your way upstairs into Jungkook’s room. Thankful that he didn’t punish the two of you.

Jungkook is quick to take off his puffy jacket, plopping himself onto the bed like a little kid, a loud breathy sigh following after. You stare at him for a moment, unsure of what to do, that is until you see him open his arms wide with a pout appearing on his face, “Come onnn,” he sings, “Let’s cuddle,” he shoots you a smile.

Playfully you roll your eyes before taking off your own jacket, plopping onto the spot next to him. Small feverish giggles escape your lips once he begins to give you tiny kisses all over, enveloping you in a hug so tight, it would’ve been impossible to ever doubt his feelings for you.

“Jungkook stop,” you laugh, the tickles he was now giving you making the sides of your stomach hurt, “Jung—” you attempt to push his hand away, face becoming red at just how much you were laughing, his own high-pitched laugh echoing across the walls of the room with you. From there he does a mixture of both tickling and kissing you, the two of you truly in your own world.

Soon though, your little game of tickles becomes a full on makeout session, not that you were complaining. Currently you lay under him with Jungkook leaning against you, using his arm that rested on the bed as support.

Slowly he slips his tongue into your mouth, gentle but demanding, nothing less than pure love behind the kiss. “Jungkooook,” you quietly whine once he begins to move onto your neck, every suckle lasting a little longer than the last. His hand interlocks with yours as he continues, you’re hand subconsciously playing with his hair from behind, making small twirls with the brown wavy locks of hair.

“I love youuu,” he cooes, a certain gleam to his eyes. Soon enough, his fingers were teasingly playing with the waistband of your leggings. And God, were you dripping. “Can I?” he innocently looks at you, licking his lips in the process. You’d be crazy to say no.

Nodding your head yes, he nudges your legs apart and begins to pull off the cotton fabric from your legs. You help him along the way, desperate to receive your own pleasure.

Teasingly, he swipes his index finger over the fabric of your underwear, continuing to pepper you with warm kisses on the underside of your jaw. The grip you had on his hair became tighter with every swipe, “Aren’t you wet?” he slyly chuckles, rubbing small circles with his placed finger.

“Stop teasing,” you whine, only causing him to muffle a laugh against your shoulder.

“I just wanna take my timeeeee,” he hums, placing a kiss to your cheek, “Can I take my time?” he pouts, only causing you to roll your eyes, agreeing nonetheless, “That’s my girl,” he whispers, pecking you on the lips before continuing, cupping your cheek with his … unoccupied … hand.

“God you’re beautiful,” he says staring at your pleasured expression, a result of the friction between his finger and your underwear becoming more intense.

“Jungkook,” your voice shakes, wanting needing him to do something before the muscles in your leg spasm any more.

“Shh shh not too loud,” he softly mumbles, because considering how drunk the boys’ were, any loud noise and you’d have someone idiotically stumbling into the room in order to find out whatever the noise was. Not wanting you to complain any more, he slips his finger under your underwear, pressing both his middle and index finger to the centerfold of your sex, “Look how wet you are,” he smirks, coaxing another moan from your lips.

Jungkook couldn’t lie, he’d envisioned this moment a couple of times before, but to have it becoming a reality was completely different than what he imagined. It was indeed better.

“I bet you’d love for me to take these off,” he teasingly pretends to pull down your panties, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“Please Jungkook,” you cry, how was it possible to already be on the verge of releasing when he hadn’t even done anything explicit yet? He begins to move his fingers up and down your clit, coating his fingers with your wetness, preparing to insert his fingers in your aching hole, “Please—” you attempt to whimper his name again, but his lips passionately kiss you before you get the chance to. It’s once he does that, that the energy in the room shifts, becoming one of playful teasingness to one of passion and love. It’s while he kisses you that he finally sinks his single finger into your pussy, your wetness helping him in gradually picking up the pace until soon enough he’s able to slip in another. Your moan being suppressed by the pressing of his lips against yours, softly nibbling on your lower lip.  

“So fucking tight,” he mutters, the squelching sounds coming from your pussy bringing him a sense of pleasure, “Can’t wait to make love to you,” he whispers watching as your eyes lazily roll back, the sight being one he’d remember for a very long time.

“J—Just like that Jungkook,” you manage to stutter out, your arousal dripping in and out of your pussy as he continues with his motions. By now you feel his hardened member kneading against panties, his self-restraint holding on by a string. God, did he wanna fuck your brains out already. Had you been some kind of one night stand and he probably would already be doing so, but you, well you were different. You were his. And he was going to make sure you knew it to.

With his other hand he begins to slide his way under your shirt, caressing your breasts while fingering you, “Take off the shirt,” he mumbles while planting kisses on your neck, and you’re quick to obey, pulling the shirt over your head and uncaringly throwing it onto the floor.

By now you were dressed in only your underwear and bra, which to you seemed a bit unfair and so purposely you begin to play with the hem of his shirt, in hopes that he’d get the message. When he doesn’t, you momentarily stop him from kissing you any further, mumbling a tiny, “Mm take off your shirt,” causing him to let out a breathy laugh. He does as told, exposing the toned torso you’d find yourself frequently gawking over for in the past year. Because truly, his body proportions were insane.

Gently pulling him from his hair, you deepen the kiss by running your other hand across his bare back, the warm skin to skin touch providing another level of intimacy. “Let me eat you out,” he murmurs against your lips, waiting for a simple three letter word so that he can finally pull off your panties.

Instead you give him a small “MmHm,” with a small nod which in this case would suffice as he was sure you were too lost in your own world of pleasure to properly respond. Delicately he removes your underwear, parting your legs in between before lowering his head.

Without saying a word, he runs his finger against your slit, licking and sucking on the fluid that dripped from his finger. What. A. Fucking. Tease. “Jungkooook,” you whine like a brat, the heat you felt below almost unbearable at this point.

“What a pretty pussy,” he rasps, gives your clit a gentle kiss before suckling against it, his saliva mixing with your fluids. Immediately you feel a wave of pure bliss, your fingers slightly trembling at just how good the sudden sensation felt.

“Oh God Jungkook,” you needily whisper once he slips his finger back inside, pushing it deep into your core all while eating you out. Your breathy moans along with the sound of your wet pussy being toyed around with, fill the room. With your eyes half-open, you manage to look down at the sight of Jungkook licking through your folds, his messy hair covering most of his face until you use your hand to push it back, wanting to savor the view in front of you.

“Just look at you,” he groans, admiring the view of your back arched along with your thighs which slightly quivered at the flicks of his tongue, “All fucking mine, you got that?” he asks.

When you don’t respond, he inserts a second finger, catching your attention.

“Yes!” you cry at the sudden jolt of pleasure, his fingers scissoring inside of you, “I’m all yours,” you answer and to that he smirks, curling his fingers inside you. His ego at a level unthinkable. From there he continues to suck and slurp any remnants of your wetness, ignoring your warnings that you were about to orgasm.

It isn’t until he feels a quick rougher than usual tug to the hair followed with a gentle release that he knows you’ve came. Only then does he stop, quickly making his way to sweetly kiss you as you ride through your orgasm. You barely manage to kiss him back, too overwhelmed by orgasm he just brought down on you.

He cups your face once again, making out with you once again even if you were lazily kissing him back, “Jungkook,” you croak out, “Make love to me,” you dazedly whisper, recalling his words from earlier, and without a single word he begins to kiss you again, this time even more passionately (if that was possible) your words triggering a certain fire within him. And despite being in a post-orgasm state, you kiss him with just as much passion as he is doing to you.

By now the two of your hands’ were entangled with each others’ hair, Jungkook roughly pressing his clothed erection against the barity of your pussy. Releasing one of his hands from his hair, he smoothly travels down your back, removing the clasp of your bra with his hand. Deciding not to question his skills, you help further remove it until you’re only left completely nude. Your tits now on full display for him.  

He soon begins to tenderly suck on your hardened nipples, one hand caressing the opposing tit whenever he was sucking on one, providing equal attention to both. You begin to play with the button of his black pants, desperately ready to have Jungkook completely inside you. Jungkook notices your lack of patience, deciding that just this time he’d give you what you want.

Pushing himself off you, he begins to unbutton his pants, your heart now beating out of excitement once you see the band of his black boxers. This was really happening. And though you’d seen Jungkook’s cock before, specifically with a woman having it wrapped inside her mouth, to see it this time around was definitely much more shocking than the first…. Was he always this big? The veins that run along his fair-colored cock only add to it’s intimidating appearance.

Pushing himself back on you, he sloppily kisses you all over, from your mouth to the side of your neck, slowly making his way downard. His cock teases the slit of your entrance, coaxing along the delicate folds of your pussy. Intertwining his hand with yours, he looks at you one last time, “You ready?” he breathes out.

Biting your lip, you slowly nod your head yes, his head then slowly pushing into your tight entrance, a groan coming from both of your lips, “God I fucking love you,” he breathily moans beside your ear.

“I love you too,” you whisper in return, his gaze never leaving yours as his cock tortuously enters you inch by inch, the grip you have on his hand tightening with every passing second, “Oh my god,” you whimper, his pre-cum along with your prior wetness making the push inside more bearable.  

It isn’t until you’re completely filled up by his cock that he slowly begins to move. Each and every deep thrust garnerning both whines and mewls from you, “Fuck,” he moans, his voice raspy from pleasurable sensation he was feeling. Somehow he manages to continue to plaster kisses all over you, his hands tightly wrapped around your waist as he continues to grind his hips against yours, making nothing but love to you.

Your hot walls now take him with ease, the small pressure you had originally felt having slowly faded away. He keeps his thrusts at a moderate pace, wanting to savor the moment.

“J—Jungkook,” you cry out, feeling your second orgasm coming as you wrap your legs around his waist. He begins to pick up his pace, “Faster,” you moan, remembering that he was definitely okay with having rough sex, considering how many times you’d have to hear other woman moan just how harder they wanted back in the beginning of last year. Who said he couldn’t do the same for you?

“Faster?” he questions, a certain spark now in his eye, “You sure?” eagerly you nod your head yes, too lost in the idea of your possible orgasm to think of the repercussions of your answer. Because soon you find yourself getting completely fucked out, the pace of his thrust becoming almost uncomparable to the pace he was going before, this time not caring at all for rhythm. By now you're sure that your different number of cries and moans could be heard from downstairs, but honestly you could give less of a fuck.

The sound of your skin slapping with his echo against the wooden walls, your eyes screwing shut as you felt your high come. His rapid thrust continuing as he fucks you into oblivion, “Just look at you, creaming on my fucking cock,” he groans, by now sweat was forming on the creases of his forehead, “and to think I get to have you like this all to myself, every single day,” he chuckles, the tight feeling in his abdomen signalling to him that his own release was coming.

“Cum in me Jungkook,” you whine, and with that he does, his white milky cum coating your walls from the inside and out. He admires the view in front of him, the sight of you completely fucked out with his cum dripping from the entrance of your pussy, wondering how he got so lucky.

Out of breath, the two of you cuddle with one another, your eyes half closed, ready to knock out at any moment. But before you do, Jungkook peppers one last kiss onto your cheek, mumbling a final “I love you,” ready for the new memories this year would bring for the two of you.

a/n : ahhhhhh! finally finished with my finals so i was able to finally get this done! for some reason i sorta got attached to this couple, i think it’s because we got to see literally every month of their forming relationship so i just ended up really loving the dynamic between the two lmao. butttt all stories must come to an end :( and i’m very happy with how this story came out, but who knows maybe we’ll this couple again in the future. anywayssss like, reblog, comment, message me an anon or even directly! anything is appreciated (I swear im not a mean person) and ill see yall next time! 💞 

mini taglist: @ggukkieland​ @unicornbabylover​ 

the swimming lessons

all rights reserved © pradaksj

↳do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

❧ pairing⟶  jungkook/reader

❧ genre⟶  swimminginstructor!jungkook , fluff, a bit of comedy? head canon/bullet points 

❧ rating⟶ e for everyone??? none??? idk how ratings work lol i just know that m = the dirty, which this story has none of

❧ word count ⟶ 5,000 

❧ summary ⟶  accidental swimming lessons with jungkook were definitely worth the money 

❧ a/n ⟶ i literally dreamt something similar to this in like january and told myself i'd write about it when i had the time so hear i am :)) this goes out to all my folks who can’t swim !! i'm on the same boat with you , get it?  cause we can’t swim ... ok anyways ... enjoy ! (note: i have not proofread this yet so sorry for any mistakes!! ill get to it soon !! ) 

“hello, welcome to lucky duck swim school, how can i help you?” the receptionist, who was loudly chewing her gum, sounded more like an automated voice message than a person...

see today was your first official swimming lesson

yay!! 

how fun!! ...

://

totally not embarrassing for someone your age !!!

honestly, it wasn't your fault you didn’t have any family members or friends with a big pool you could learn in growing up 

and by the time you did, you were too much of in an awkward phase to be properly taught

aka your body absolutely refusing to float on its own anymore

but after several trips to the beach with friends and attending different pool parties, you were tired of being made fun of !! 

no longer would you remain at 5 feet and under !!! not on your watch ! 

and so here you were, ready to start your journey into the world of swimming :)) 

“hi i um have a swimming lesson at 3 with um ... i believer her name was um—” 

hmmm what was her name ??? jennie??? no, maybe it was aaliyah ??? no that wasn’t it.... 

the receptionist taps on her keyboard buttons, her long nails making a noise 

pop, her bubblegum goes 

“jungkook” 

“yeah jungkook” you mindlessly say. 

wait 

WAIIITT

jungkook????

ummmmm 

that was not the game given to you by the last receptionist 

jungkook is a boy’s name !!! 

you didn’t want a boy instructor !!! 

not with the way you were looking 

“i um—i had asked for a girl instructor—” you awkwardly mention 

she rolls her eyes

um RUDE 

she continues clacking with her keyboard, looking for god knows what 

she sighs 

“there’s no slots with female instructors available for today, nor for the rest of the month, the earliest i can probably squeeze you in by is july.” she bluntly states. 

JULY??? 

july was when you needed to already know how to swim !!

that’s the peak of summer ! 

there was no point in knowing during winter or any other season besides summer for that matter 

and you were not going to get made of by your friends this year

no no NO

“soo do i reschedule you or.....” 

you sigh 

“no ill take it” you pout, resembling a child. 

“it it makes you feel any better, jungkook’s our best instructor, most popular too” 

wink 

oh yeah that makes you feel so much better 

>:( 

you were going to make a complete fool out of yourself in front of the so called “best instructor” 

“well go get yourself washed up, get into the pool, and jungkook will be with you shortly” she smiles, her attitude now changing now that (what looked to be a supervisor) was passing by. 

what a bi—

flip flop. flip flop. flip flop. 

your sandles press onto the water on the floor of the girls locker room, a grouchy look now on your face 

this wasn't fair 

you made an appointment with a female instructor!! 

you didn’t care if he was the best instructor or the most popular ...

squeeaaakkk , you twist the rusty shower handle

...because now you were you were going to be judged for your lack of skills 

not that you had any to begin with, but still! 

god, you sounded like such a karen ... 

it’s just ...

a guy instructor ??? 

really??? 

you understood that this wasn’t elementary school anymore and boys certainly didn’t have cooties anymore but like :// 

no no, you had to give this jungkook guy the benefit of the doubt

if he was one of the best, it was clearly because he was professional and good at what he does 

putting your worries to rest, you turn off the shower 

this was going to be fine

just fine 

clearly your worries were not put to rest 

just a temporary halt 

:) 

pat. pat. pat. 

okay let’s get it ! 

making your way out to the pool, you dip your foot in 

ooooo 

cold

VERY cold indeed 

1 ...2...

you dip your whole leg in, quickly using the momentum to place your whole body in 

“5 feet and below ... you’re my bitch !!” you think to yourself 

your hand still clearly gripping onto the ledge, still afraid of accidentally reaching 6ft

.... now to wait 

“megan seems to have fractured her leg last weekend on a rollerskating day gone bad, so you’ll be taking up her appointments for the next month of two until she’s cleared for work” 

huh ???

“but—” 

“also she, well now you i guess, have a lesson to teach at..” 

jungkook’s supervisor looks down at his watch 

“oh i guess in 30 minutes, could’ve sworn it was at 4..” he mumbles that last part to himself

30 minutes?! 

“don’t worry i’ll up your pay for the remaining time that she gets better” 

he winks ;) making a clicking noise with his mouth before leaving the staff room 

jungkook sighs 

today was supposed to be an easy day :/ 

a simple cleaning of the pool along with a couple of measly hours of being the lifeguard and that would’ve been it but noooo 

he just had to be the highest rated swimming instructor on the company website 

he couldn’t complain though, sometimes it was fun reading the reviews past students left, even if sometimes they were a little too...

whats the word...

provocative? 

it often made him wonder if he was in fact an actual good swimming instructor or if the high highly rated reviews were for other reasons.... 

honestly it’d be dumb of him not to acknowledge the amount of googly eyes he’d get ranging from the mother’s of his younger students to his actual adult students (female and male) 

he just liked to think that didn’t come into play when they wrote their reviews 

hehe 

changing into his black fitted rash guard, he glanced at megan’s schedule 

name : y/n 

age: 23 grown

swimming level: beginner  aka noob. 

he chuckles to himself 

well won’t this be fun 

he couldn’t lie beginner adult swimmers were always a spectacle to watch 

they almost reminded him of baby ducks learning how to swim 

only that they’d verbally curse their frustrations here and there 

quickly showering, he begins to make his way to the pool 

hmm, he wonders..

what should he eat after today’s lesson? 

a bacon cheese burger sounded really good 

maybe even grab himself some birria tacos from that new restaurant that just opened near his apartment 

hmm no he had to start spending less on takeout 

sigh 

looks like it’d be rame—

woah 

as corny as it sounded, he could’ve sworn he felt his heart skip a beat 

because whoever it was in that pool was pretty, like really pretty 

hOly ????? 

wowzers 

you couldn’t be y/n ... could you?!?!?! 

you were the only person who looked 23 years of age in the pool ...

ermmmmmm 

mayday mayday 

jungkook.exe has STOPPED WORKING  

whoever this jungkook person was, sure was taking their time 

deciding to have some fun before your lesson, you begin to gently play with the water 

swish. swoosh , the water goes 

soon you’d be well on your way to becoming the next michael phelps 

hehe 

maybe with time you’d even be able to a somersault in the water like your friend always—

“y/n?” a voice from behind says your name

ah finally 

taking in a deep breath, you turn your attention to the so called “best swimming instructor” 

OH.

MY .

GOD. 

WHAT ?????? 

this man looked like he came straight out of GQ magazine !!!! 

this HAD to be some mistake , there was just no way ... 

your cheeks feel as if they were burning up 

probably because they quite literally were 

there was no way you’d be able to come here every saturday for the next month, not without fawning for this dude every single minute 

“u-um” 

of course you were a stuttering mess

of FuCkiNg course 

“that’s me” 

cue the awkward smile 

:) 

“be professional” jungkook tells himself

at the end of the day, you were his student 

any crush on you would just have to wait until of course ... you were no longer his student 

for now the only goal was : teach you how to swim 

the next one down the list being : to take you out on a date ! 

he offers you a handshake 

wow he had a strong grip 

“i’m jungkook, i’ll be your swimming instructor for the next month” 

he flashes you his all too famous smile

there was just no way this man was real

just nO wAy 

“um..” 

crap, you were still holding his hand! 

idiot, idiot, idiot ! 

“sorry” you awkwardly laugh 

ha ha ha 

so funny 

:/ 

god did you just want to hide to disappear 

“it’s fine” he laughs 

even his laugh was attractive :( 

ugh 

“so y/n, before we begin with anything, i think it’s important to review about what kind of things you already know and what you don’t” 

oh right ... 

for a moment you had COMPLETELY forgotten you were here for swimming lessons 

how embarrassing 

“oh um..” 

um, um , um. 

IS THAT ALL YOU KNEW HOW TO SAY???? 

“so like floating, holding your breath underwater, pushing, gliding, arm movement, that kind of stuff,” he explains 

you knew a cool trick to make it look like you were water bending :D 

of course you weren’t going to admit that here 

silently you nod your head no 

he gives you a reassuring smile, sensing your timidness 

“that’s fine, only more for us—” he corrects himself, “for you to learn,” he laughs 

hey you weren’t complaining 

;) 

“so i personally always like to start off with teaching my students how to float. as long as we get that down then you’ll have no problem learning the rest” 

gosh his smile was so infectious 

shaking your head, you reminded yourself that this was your teacher 

+ you paid 300 bucks for these classes, so you couldn’t afford to be giving him the googly eyes all day 

you were so cute :( 

jungkook couldn’t help but find you so endearing 

the color of your swimming goggles even matched your swim suit :(( 

so cute ! 

“okay so the first thing i want you to practice is going underwater for a couple of seconds, just so you get used it,” he instructs, “i’ll demonstrate” 

taking in a deep breath, he goes down under 

1...2...3 

he’s back up 

pausing for about another three seconds, he takes in another deep breath of air before going back under 

1...2....3...4....5

he repeats the same thing over and over, until the max count becomes 20. 

“use my finger as your reference of when to go up, but come up for air whenever you feel like you need to. it’s important to go at your own pace, so don’t feel pressured to get it the first try” 

no pressure at all 

okay 

“you ready?” 

you nod your head 

“okay, deep breath in”

you sink your head underwater, mentally counting the three seconds before going back up 

“good job,” he gives you a high five, and you almost feel like a schoolgirl, “now let’s try to five seconds” 

woo!!! 5 seconds here you come !! 

taking in a deep breath you go down under again 

1....2.....3....4...5

easy peasy ... LEMON SQUEEZY 

“okay now to ten” 

1.....2......3......4.....5......6....7

umm

now why were these seconds going by slow all of a sudden? 

sucking it up you manage to make it to 10, but not without being out of breath 

“you okay?” he’s quick to ask 

yup, totally fine ! 

you definitely didn’t see the gates of heaven for a quick moment :D 

nodding your head, you enthusiastically say, “let’s go for 15″ 

he smiles at your enthusiasm

ahh so cute 

“1....2.....3......4......5.......6......7......8......9.....10.....11.....12....13...

nope nope nope

you were not going to make it to 15 

immediately you make your way back to the surface, trying to catch your breath 

“hey you did amazing,” he immediately reassures you, “remember as long your going your own pace then you’re doing just fine” 

<3 

well doesn’t that make you feel better 

you wonder if he’s this kind to all his students 

besides the most obvious reason, there was no question as to why he was the “most popular” instructor 

and to think you had been complaining earlier !! 

and soon you’re back underwater, going at your own pace until finallyyyy you’re able to make the 20 second count 

“nice !!” he genuinely celebrates with you, making you feel completely proud for yourself 

“okay now that we have that done, we can move onto learning how to float facing both front and back” 

ohhhhh

he was just thinking ahead 

cool :o 

“so what i want you do is first relax,” he laughs, gently pushing your stiff shoulders down 

as if your blush couldn’t get any deeper 

“now my personal belief is that all humans can naturally float, just that for others, it takes a bit of a push to get them at that state,” he begins to explain 

others meaning people like um you 

“the key to floating is to relax” 

oh you’ve heard that before

many MANY times and each time you’ve tried to so called “relax” you just end up sinking 

“the moment you fight or stress for even a tiny bit, you will sink. now i know what you’re thinking, ive heard that before” 

damn 

he was good 

“but sadly it’s true, until you learn to relax then you’ll be able to swim” 

you sigh 

this was where it became hard 

you were the queen of stress 

you and stress went hand in hand almost like a married couple 

it was just that deep water was scary !! very very scary !! 

the amount of horror stories you’d seen on tiktok was enough for you to know, ocean = scary 

“so here’s what i need you to do, i need you to place your arms on top of the water like as if you’re going to fly” 

you follow his commands 

he separates your arms, which had been too close together, giving them a small rub 

“remember you need to relax y/n,” he chuckles, feeling the tension in your arms

“relax, i need to relax,” you repeat 

“okay now right now when i tell you, you’re gonna take a deep breath in and look down, from there you’re gonna let you body move forward. so remember you’re not gonna jump, you’re just gonna let your body glide forward and float. almost as if you’re flying to me,” he explains 

mm it was easier said than done  

“you ready?” 

“okay deep breath in” 

you inhale a deep breath in 

“look down” 

you do that as well 

“and let go” 

slowly your body begins to rise on its own 

oh my god !!!!! 

you were about to float!!!!! 

the day has come !!!

no more staying at 5 feet and under 

you were ready to hang with the big kids :D 

but as quick as the momentum came, the faster it left because soon you felt yourself sinking, the breathing exercise jungkook had made you do now coming in handy 

no!!!! 

you almost had it :( 

it was right in your grasp, only to have it snatched away 

not wanting to offend you, jungkook keeps his giggles to himself 

“hey at least you almost had it,” he comforts you, “let’s just try again” 

you sigh, now letting your doubts creep in 

because of this, this time your body almost immediately sank this time

he frowns 

you were losing confidence :/ 

“come on i’ll help you” 

grabbing your hands, he signals for you to follow his breathing pattern

“deep breath in” 

“deep breath out” 

god, was his voice soothing 

“i need you to relax y/n, let everything go” 

a soft feeling of relaxation washes over you, similar to that feeling you’d get when you were on the verge of sleeping

“i’m gonna let you go at the count of three, and then you’re going to float, okay?” 

silently you nod, knowing that speaking would only cause you to tense up again 

“1...2....” 

he lets go, and soon you’re floating, just like he said you would 

you hold your breathe for a good while before standing back up, a huge smile on your face 

“holy shit! i did it!!” 

he gives you high five with both of his hands, for a second holding them before letting go 

“now let’s try floating on your back” 

he notices that there’s now a fire in your eyes that wasn’t there before

clearly you were now more determined to learn, excited too

preparing yourself to float once more, you realize you were missing something.... 

“jungkook...” 

he tilts his head, confused by the faint blush on your cheeks 

“do you think you can um—” 

now it was his turn to blush 

“o-oh yeah” 

what was his problem??? 

you were a student asking for help 

that was all ...

point blank. 

he helps you get on your back, his hand placed under your back as a way to keep you up 

“1....2....” 

you float easily again!! 

“nice!!” he smiles 

summer, here you come !! 

“okay so we’re gonna keep practicing that for the remaining time that we have and next week i’ll start teaching you about stroke techniques and which ones are easiest to do” 

nodding your head, you practice your floating by the end of the hour  having it practically mastered 

the two of you get out of the pool, now drying off 

“you’re a really fast learner y/n,” he compliments you 

hehe 

you mean, you didn’t wanna brag butttt 

you were a fast learner indeed 

“thank you,” you say in return, “but that’s only because you’re a great teacher” 

woah 

did you really say that :o 

aren’t you feeling a little bold today y/n  

his blush returns for the second time today

well technically you weren’t in class anymore ... 

a little flirting wouldn’t hurt right? 

if only he knew what to say .... 

hmmmm 

“well at least you won't ever drown!” 

HUH???????

jungkook, you idiot !!!!! 

someone needed to smack him straight in the face for that ! 

at least you won’t drown????

no fucking shit 

well there goes his chances with you now going down the drain 

but to his surprise, you laugh 

“you’re right, i won’t,” you say in return, “well i’ll see you next weekend jungkook” 

you flash him a smile, and he was certain he felt butterflies in his stomach 

walking into the girl’s locker room, you let out a sigh of relief

wheeeeew ! 

faking confidence was hard ! 

very VERY hard 

“so today you’re going to learn how to stroke so you can officially be called someone who knows how to swim, next week you’ll learn to tread water and continue perfecting your swimming, and then the final week i’ll teach you some fun extra things” 

“sounds good,” you say, definitely excited to learn more. 

“okay so now that you know how to float, right now when you float facing downward, you’re going to pull against the current with your arms, alternating each one. now the tricky part is that while you do that, you also have to paddle your legs a little and come up for air when you need to, and when you’re back in the water you should slowly be exhaling bubbles of air rather than holding your breath” 

well that sounded hard :/ 

“let me give you a demonstration,” jungkook says

he’s quick to float facing downward, showing you the maneuver he wanted you to learn while coming up for air every five seconds

thought it was a little childish, he somehow still looked good doing it 

he truly was blessed with the looks of a god 

he comes out the water

“okay now your turn” 

you nod your head, that determined look you had on your face last week now returning 

following his example, you begin your attempt at paddling and stroking your arms at the same time

SPLASH! SPLASH! SPLASH! 

immediately you begin to panic and water begins to splash everywhere, including on jungkook 

noticing your panicked state, jungkook is quick to grab you and place you back on your feet 

“hey hey, i got you,” he comforts you, not wanting you to feel discouraged 

you sigh 

:/ 

well that was embarrassing 

“remember y/n you have to learn to coordinate everything, so think of it this way. your legs have to always be paddling, it’s the arm and coming up for air that switch roles. when you come up for air, it’s only your legs paddling, while when you’re head is back underwater it’s both your legs and arms paddling. once you get that pattern, the bubbling will come naturally” 

you make an ohhhhh face

you could do that ! 

“remember what i told you last weekend y/n, you need to relax and be comfortable so you can build confidence. there’s no need to panic because i’m here,” he smiles at you 

gosh this just wasn't fair >:( 

cute and charming ???? 

this boy really had it all 

not wanting to disappoint, you try one more time, failing once again 

now you were frustrated :/ 

“damn it,” you mumble to yourself, a sadness to your voice

jungkook feels his heart swell 

he didn’t like seeing you sad :( 

but doggy paddling was the most basic technique he could teach you so he couldn’t really cheer you up by offering a different technique 

you needed to learn to doggy paddle before you could move on to the more bigger strokes

damn it ://  

“hey don’t feel bad about not getting right away,” he gives you a small smile, “i remember when i first started learning it took me forever to even learn how float, so the fact that you’re already at this point is enough of an accomplishment” 

well that makes you feel little better ... 

“but you were probably a kid, im ...” 

old , is what you want to say 

figuring what you were gonna say, he only laughs 

“who said i was a kid? i was probably like 19″ 

whaaaaaattttt! 

assuming he was your age (which he was), you do the quick maths in your head 

that was like .... 4 years ago ! 

how the hell did he get so good in such little time???? enough to be teaching courses ??? 

“not knowing how to swim is nothing to be embarrassed about y/n, if anything it takes a lot of courage to even sign up for a class so don’t beat yourself up too much for not getting it right away” 

he ruffles your wet hair, a small affectionate gesture 

you didn’t know how it was possible but you were falling for this man and QUICKLY at that 

he was just so ??$%@^! 

UGHHHH

“so let’s try one more time, and if you still can’t get it then we’ll push it to next week, a free extra lesson on me” 

eeeeek 

though the temptation to purposely fails was very intriguing indeed, you still had to try for the sake of it 

if you got it, you got it, and if you didn't well .... 

an extra week with jungkook it was :D 

“you ready?” 

you nod your head 

“1...2...” 

you float and begin to paddle, this time actually getting the hang of it !!!

you hear jungkook’s muffled voice from above the surface, “there you go!!” 

holy shit ! 

you officially knew how to swim !!! 

at least enough to save your own life if push came to shove 

once you were out of breath, you stand back up, a grin on both of your faces 

for jungkook it was hard not to tackle you in excitement so instead he settled for a very enthusiastic high five 

“you did it!” he cheers 

“ahhh!” you giggle like a child 

“from here on out, the rest is a piece of cake!” 

yay yay yay !!! 

“now let’s start working on deeper strokes, maybe we’ll even have time to throw in backstrokes!”

:////

noticing your changed expression, he awkwardly laughs while scratching his neck 

“or maybe not” 

this week was the final week of swimming lesson with jungkook

:(( 

last week’s lesson of treading water and perfecting your swim seemed to had gone by in literally the blink of an eye ! 

and so today was possible the last time you’d see jungkook unless you managed to grow the balls and ask him out once that clock hit 4, once you were no longer his “student"

by now you were 100% sure you liked the dude... like a lot 

and he was definitely someone you wanted to get to know outside of this pool 

you just weren’t sure if he liked you the same way 

you mean yeah there were definitely times that had you raising an eyebrow here and there, but you always excused it as him simply being a kind hearted person by nature 

because clearly his five star rating on the company’s website had to come from somewhere 

not that you checked or anything....

who were you kidding 

yes you did

your favorite review was the one that went..

“wow!! this dude is amazing !! came here for beginner lessons and even i found myself fawning for the dude , and i don’t even play for that side of the team !! not only were his lessons thorough, but he’s a very charming person ! 10/10 recommend!” 

and so you were stuck 

did he liked you or was he just treating you like he treated everyone?? 

“ahh y/n,” jungkook’s voice suddenly brings you back to reality 

“today’s our final lesson!” he announces, not sounding too sad

in fact he sounded excited  

damn :/ 

he playfully jumps into the pool, today being his so called “fun day” 

“so since today’s your last lesson i thought i could teach you how to do a.....” 

he pauses for dramatic purposes 

“SOmERSAuLT!!”

immediately your eyes light up 

ahhhhhHHHH!!!! 

you always wanted to learn how to do a somersault in water, remembering the number of times you’d look at your friend in jealousy whenever she did one 

“you ready??” 

eagerly you nod your head yes

“okay so the steps to doing a summersault is first of course, you need to take a deep breath” 

okayyyy 

“from there you tuck your chin to your chest, next you do the moment of the somersault by swinging your chest forward and gently kicking out your legs, so basically forming a ball and then kicking out.  naturally, if you have enough momentum, you’ll spin, but if you don’t just use your arms to complete it” 

“think you can give me a demonstration?” you innocently ask 

he winks at you, “of course i can” 

taking in a deep breath, he follows his own instructions, and you watch he perfectly executes his somersault 

“woahhh, that was so cool!” you say, even now finding the trick to be amazing 

“now i dont expect you to get it right away, so right now that you try i’m going tog hide you thought the movement so you get the gist of it” 

sounds fair enough 

you weren’t trying to drown on your last day either 

“okay, you ready?” 

“yes” 

“let’s get it!” 

taking a deep breath in, you feel jungkook’s hand get placed on your back, ready to push you so you could do the somersault 

“1...2...” 

and slowly you feel yourself spin with the help of jungkook, a smile already forming on your face 

“ahhh!” you smile big and wide, causing Jungkook to smile along with you 

“you think you’re ready to try it on your own???” 

“yes sir” 

“okay 1....2....” 

mustering up as much as force you possible could, you push yourself into ball and successfully do the somersault 

YUPPPPP 

WHOSE DOING IT LIKE YOU???!$%@$!

feeling an immediate rush of adrenaline, you begin to splash water all over once you come back up for air, declaring an all out water fight with jungkook 

soon the two of you are chasing one another, you now using your new swimming abilities to get away 

hehe 

you’re a swimmer 

:D 

the sound of jungkook’s infectious laughter fill the air and soon you feel him grab your waist at an attempt to stop you 

“gotcha” he says, and he turns you around to face him 

slowly each other’s heavy breathing becomes relaxed, and it’s as if you’ve felt a shift occur in what you considered your new “friendship” 

“so....” he awkwardly says, hands still wrapped around your waist 

his was was RED

like cherry tomatoes red 

this only makes you giggle 

if you had doubts before, you DEFINITELY didn’t have em anymore 

he liked you :)))) 

and you liked him :)))) 

and in ten minutes you were officially no longer his student so......

“there’s this new restaurant that opened near my place....” you say 

immediately his eyes light up 

“cancun eats?” 

you nod your head and he gives you a toothy grin 

“i was wondering if you’d want to go out some time...” you muster up the courage to ask him out 

%^@%!@&!@^&@%! = jungkook’s brain 

holy crap !!! 

you liked him!!! 

he wasn’t just delusional !!! 

“hello?? jungkook??” you laugh, waving a hand in front of his face for jungkook.exe had truly stopped working this time 

nodding his head yes like a child,  the two of you being to lean closer to another, the clear goal in mind being each other’s lips

because honestly you’d come this far now, might as well give him a .... 

“wait!” he suddenly interrupts  he glances at the digital clock on the wall, remembering your final lesson officially ends at 4

because no way in hell was he going to get fired for kissing a student on the clock 

3:59 

.....

4:00 

“okay now,” he smiles, and you only roll your eyes, happy to have taken up on those swimming lessons. 

a/n : i was gonna make this longer but this was always meant to be a small little head canon so :))) pls give this a like, comment, or a reblog if you enjoyed it !! (if u can of course) and my ask box is always open for whatever !! :)) see yall next time 💞

cold case (미제 사건) — jeon jungkook (전정국)

✧.* 18+

in the quiet corridors of human thought, where shadows of philosophy and whispers of tradition intertwined, the concept of morality unfurled its intricate tapestry. once upon a time, in a world where the lines between right and wrong were delicately drawn by the hand of experience and belief, morality was more than a mere guide—it was a compass that directed the course of lives and shaped the destiny of societies.

in those days, moral philosophy emerged from the depths of contemplation, offering varied paths to discern the essence of good and evil. deontologists spoke of duty with a voice as steady as the unchanging stars, insisting that some actions were inherently right or wrong, irrespective of their outcomes. their moral landscape was marked by rules that stood like ancient pillars, unyielding in their presence. conversely, the consequentialists wandered a different terrain, where the terrain shifted with the tides of outcomes. to them, the morality of an action was painted by its results—an act was judged by whether it brought more happiness or less suffering. their ethics were a canvas of effects, where the final strokes determined the worth of every action.

in the gentle light of introspection, morality revealed itself as a complex and beautiful mosaic, guiding humanity through the labyrinth of life with wisdom and grace. each ethical theory, each moral rule, and each personal conviction contributed to a grand symphony of understanding, where the quest for distinguishing right from wrong continued to unfold with every choice and every action.

in the labyrinthine corridors of your childhood memories, the distinction between right and wrong was not always clear. as a young girl, you had often seen glimpses of your parents' secret lives—furtive conversations, hidden compartments in the house, and the occasional visitor who spoke in hushed tones. to you, these were nothing more than the quirks of a family that had its own peculiar ways. in your innocent eyes, every family had its secrets, and the clandestine nature of your parents' actions seemed like just another part of growing up.

you remembered vividly the sound of your parents' laughter echoing through the house, mingling with the clink of glasses and the rustling of crisp banknotes. it was a symphony of the life they led, a life that seemed vibrant and exciting. they spoke to you with a tenderness that belied the shadows lurking behind their smiles. their love for you was palpable, a warm embrace that seemed to protect you from the world’s harsher truths.

but as the years passed, the veil of innocence began to lift. the truth of your parents' double life slowly came into focus, revealing a stark reality. you learned that their involvement in the underground world of crime was not just a secret hobby but a consuming passion that eclipsed everything else. their love for you, though genuine, was overshadowed by their relentless pursuit of wealth and power. this pursuit, once cloaked in the guise of providing a better future, had ultimately led to their downfall.

as you sat alone in your room, you came across a broken-framed photograph of the three of you. the glass was cracked, and the edges of the frame were chipped, but the image within was still clear—a snapshot of a happier time. staring at that photograph, the weight of realization settled upon you like a shroud. you understood now that your parents' lives, while filled with moments of love and joy, were tainted by choices that led to their tragic end. their death was not a result of fate but of their unbridled greed and the dark paths they chose to walk.

it was in that moment of clarity, as you gazed at the broken photograph, that you fully comprehended the difference between right and wrong. the realization that their love was marred by their actions ignited a determination within you. you knew that the path you needed to take was one of integrity, justice, and righteousness. the shadows of your parents' lives would not define you; instead, you would forge a new legacy rooted in moral clarity and purpose.

determined to make a difference, you entered the police academy with a fierce resolve. the years spent there were a rigorous testament to your commitment. each day began before dawn, with physical training that tested your endurance and mental fortitude. the discipline of early mornings and grueling exercises sculpted your body and mind, preparing you for the challenges ahead.

in the classroom, you delved into the complexities of law and ethics, dissecting case studies and engaging in intense debates. your instructors imparted the knowledge and skills necessary to uphold justice, and you absorbed every lesson with a thirst for understanding. the theoretical aspects of criminal justice were balanced with practical exercises, where you simulated real-world scenarios, honing your investigative techniques and decision-making abilities. your fellow cadets became like family, bound together by shared struggles and aspirations. you formed lasting friendships forged in the fires of late-night study sessions and joint drills. the camaraderie was a source of strength and motivation, driving you to excel in both academics and fieldwork.

the graduation day arrived, a culmination of years of hard work and dedication. as you stood among your fellow graduates, clad in the uniform you had earned, the weight of the journey you had undertaken was both heavy and exhilarating. when your captain approached to congratulate the graduating class, you felt a surge of pride and accomplishment. each salute you offered was a testament to your commitment to justice, a silent vow to uphold the values you had come to cherish.

you knew exactly what you wanted to do with your newfound authority. your goal was to bring about the change you had envisioned—to be a beacon of hope in the complex, often shadowy world of law enforcement. the lessons learned from your past and the discipline honed in the academy had prepared you for the challenges that lay ahead. as you embarked on your journey as an officer, you carried with you the resolve to honor the ideals of justice and integrity, ensuring that your path would remain unwaveringly true.

as you stepped into the office for the first time, the familiar hum of activity greeted you. the room was bustling with the usual office clamor—phones ringing, papers rustling, and the murmurs of conversations. but as you approached your designated desk, a sense of unease quickly replaced your initial excitement.

your desk was positioned at the periphery of the room, a seemingly innocuous spot that did little to shield you from the stares of your new colleagues. the glances you received were not of welcome but of scrutinizing appraisal. the men who filled the office cast lingering, dismissive looks in your direction, their eyes saying more than their words ever could. it was clear that they were sizing you up, judging you not by your skills or qualifications but by your gender.

you didn't need to be an officer or possess any special insight to understand their thoughts. it was painfully evident that they underestimated you, their eyes reflecting a blend of skepticism and condescension. you loathed it, this patronizing attitude that seemed to seep through every glance and smirk. but you had learned long ago how to navigate such disdain. you knew that you were more than just flesh and blood, more than just a woman in a male-dominated field. you were a dedicated officer, and you refused to let their prejudices define you.

your resolve was tested almost immediately. a voice broke through the din of the office, sharp and mocking. “i sure hope you’re here to make us lunch,” one of the male officers said, his tone dripping with derision. his colleagues erupted into laughter, their mirth a jarring reminder of the chauvinistic attitudes that plagued your new workplace.

you didn’t flinch. instead, you fixed him with a steely gaze and replied, “i sure hope you’re okay with getting your ass beat.” the words were barely out of your mouth before you grabbed your stapler and, with a swift motion, hurled it towards him. it flew through the air with a precision that spoke volumes of your frustration and resolve.

the stapler struck him squarely on the side of his head. the room fell into stunned silence, broken only by the thud of the stapler hitting the floor. the officer, his face a mixture of shock and anger, glared at you. “you bitch,” he spat, advancing toward you with a menacing stride. but before he could reach you, an authoritative voice cut through the tension.

“it’s your first day, and you’re already asking to get fired.” you turned to see jeon jungkook standing in the doorway, his presence commanding immediate attention. his uniform was impeccably neat, his posture rigid, and his expression a mask of stern professionalism. jungkook’s eyes, cold and assessing, swept over the room before settling on the offending officer. “you’re no better,” he said, his voice carrying a sharp edge. “you’re lucky she didn’t crack your head open.” his gaze lingered for a moment longer, an unspoken warning hanging in the air, before he turned and left the room with a decisive click of the door.

the moment jungkook departed, you felt the weight of his words and the chill of his gaze. it was clear that he was not just any superior officer but someone who commanded respect through his unwavering dedication and strict demeanor. his reprimand had carried with it an authority that seemed to freeze the air in the room. you turned back to your desk, the echoes of the confrontation still reverberating in your mind. the office had returned to its usual clamor, but the atmosphere had shifted. the mocking glances had lessened, replaced by a wary respect that had not been there before. you were already making a mark, even on your first day, and you knew that the path ahead would be paved with both challenges and triumphs.

sitting down at your desk, you took a deep breath and began to organize your workspace. the clutter of papers and office supplies seemed to reflect the chaos of the morning, but you approached it with a sense of purpose. this was your domain now, and you were determined to make it your own. as you set about your tasks, you could feel the weight of the day’s events pressing upon you, but you remained resolute.

as you settled into your new role, the mountain of files and papers that awaited you seemed both daunting and strangely familiar. each document was a piece of the complex puzzle you were about to dive into, and you approached it with the meticulous attention to detail that had characterized your training. the room was a mosaic of activity, but your focus was anchored firmly on the paperwork before you. you organized the files into neat stacks, sorting through reports, case files, and memos with practiced efficiency. the air was filled with the rustle of paper and the occasional distant hum of conversation, a backdrop to your focused efforts. the scent of ink and paper was oddly comforting, a reminder of the countless hours you had spent in the academy honing your skills.

as you concentrated on cross-referencing details and updating case notes, you heard a voice break through the monotony. “don’t think too much about these assholes,” the voice said, warm and comforting despite the brashness of the comment.

you looked up from your work to see a man sitting across the room, his demeanor casual yet friendly. he had an easygoing smile that seemed to disarm the tension lingering in the office. you couldn’t help but scoff lightly. “i wasn’t planning to,” you replied, your tone carrying a hint of defiance.

the man’s smile widened, and he leaned back in his chair, exuding an air of easy confidence. “you’ve got a lot of patience,” he said, his tone genuinely admiring. “i’m jung hoseok, by the way.”

recognition flickered in your mind as you realized that hoseok was one of the cadets from the academy. you nodded with a smile. “i remember you. congratulations on graduating,” you said, your voice carrying the warmth of sincere admiration.

hoseok’s smile grew even broader. “thanks. and congratulations to you too. i’ve heard you’ve made quite an impression already.” you felt a wave of relief wash over you. amidst the zoo of office dynamics, it was refreshing to encounter someone who seemed genuinely kind and approachable. his presence was a welcome contrast to the hostile undercurrents you had faced earlier.

he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret. “but i should warn you about jungkook.” you raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “why?” you asked, your tone curious but wary.

hoseok hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking towards the door as if ensuring no one else could overhear. “nothing is more important to jungkook than work itself,” he said finally, his voice tinged with a note of caution. you shrugged slightly, considering his words. “there’s nothing wrong with being dedicated to your work,” you replied, trying to maintain an open mind.

hia expression grew serious, and he continued, “it’s not just dedication. there’s not a line jungkook won’t cross to get his work done.” his gaze met yours with a gravity that underscored the seriousness of his warning. you let his words sink in, the implication clear. jungkook’s dedication to his work was not merely a matter of professional pride but a driving force that could lead to unpredictable and potentially dangerous decisions. the silence that followed was heavy with contemplation. you considered the balance between dedication and ethics, between doing what was necessary and adhering to the principles that guided you.

hoseok’s warning lingered in your thoughts as you returned to your desk, your mind processing the implications of his words. the office buzzed around you, the normalcy of daily tasks juxtaposed against the undercurrents of tension and intrigue that marked your new environment. with a renewed sense of resolve, you continued with your work, aware of the complexities that lay ahead.

the evening air was crisp as you stepped out of the office building, eager for a moment of respite. the fading sunlight cast long shadows, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, and you welcomed the solitude as you approached your parked car. the comforting solitude of the parking lot offered a temporary escape from the whirlwind of office life, and you relished the chance to smoke in peace. you leaned against the cool metal of your car, pulling a cigarette from your pack with practiced ease. as you lit it and took your first drag, you glanced around, appreciating the brief silence that enveloped you. the soft crackle of the cigarette was a small solace amidst the hustle and bustle of your new role.

out of the corner of your eye, you caught a fleeting movement on the other side of the lot. you turned slightly to see jungkook, standing in the dimming light, lighting his own cigarette. the briefest of glances met your eyes before you quickly looked away, preferring the sanctuary of silence over the potential for awkward conversation. the distance between you was too great for meaningful exchange, and you were content to let the moment pass in unspoken acknowledgment.

you focused on your car, stepping forward to retrieve some files you had left on the seat. the familiar motion of opening the door and reaching inside provided a momentary distraction from the day's earlier events. with a sigh of relief, you closed the door, cigarette still perched between your lips. as you straightened, you looked up to see an unfamiliar man standing a few feet away, his gaze fixed on you with an unsettling intensity.

the man’s presence was jarring, his smirk exuding an air of menace. his eyes lingered on the sleek lines of your car with an almost predatory curiosity. “nice ride,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with a threatening undertone. “mind if i take it for a spin?”

you didn’t react immediately, maintaining a calm exterior as your eyes scanned his demeanor. his hand shifted to lift the side of his jacket, revealing a gun holstered at his hip. the glint of metal caught the waning light, a stark reminder of the danger he posed.

with a deliberate motion, you extinguished your cigarette, dropping it to the pavement and crushing it underfoot. the decision to act swiftly and decisively was driven by instinct and training. you pivoted toward the man, your movements fluid and practiced, and closed the distance between you. before he could react fully, you grabbed him by the collar and swung him against the side of your car. the impact was jarring, and he grunted in surprise as you pressed him firmly against the vehicle. your hands were steady as you reached for your cuffs, securing them around his wrists with a practiced efficiency.

as you tightened the cuffs, you leaned in close, your breath warm against his ear. “i think i’m gonna take you for a spin first,” you whispered, your voice carrying a cold, authoritative edge. his initial shock turned into a flurry of thrashing and resistance, but your grip remained firm. you guided him with practiced control, maneuvering him through the parking lot toward the station. the scuffle drew the attention of a few passersby, but you paid them little mind, your focus solely on your captive and the path ahead.

throughout the entire ordeal, you felt jungkook’s eyes on you, a piercing gaze that never wavered. even as you moved with the man in tow, you could sense his silent observation, the intensity of his scrutiny adding an additional layer of pressure. his presence was like a constant shadow, a reminder of the complex dynamics at play within this new world you had entered.

you maneuvered the man roughly into one of the holding cells, the metal door slamming shut with a resonant clang. the cell’s interior was stark, illuminated by the harsh, flickering light of a single bulb. the man’s protests filled the space, his shouts echoing off the concrete walls as he struggled against the cuffs. his anger and frustration were palpable, but you remained unmoved, your expression cool and detached as you observed him from outside the cell.

just then, the chief of the station strode into the area, his presence commanding immediate attention. his eyes narrowed as he took in the scene before him, and he paused, clearly surprised by the commotion. “what’s going on here?” he demanded, his voice carrying an authoritative edge.

you took a steadying breath, maintaining your composure as you explained the situation. “this man attempted to steal my car. he displayed a firearm, so i subdued him and brought him in.” you handed over the wrapped gun, its weight feeling significant in your hands. the tissue was slightly damp from handling, but you had wrapped it with care to avoid any fingerprints.

the chief’s eyebrows shot up in shock as he unwrapped the gun, his anger visibly rising. he turned to face the man, his voice now tinged with a harsh edge. “you’re in for a treat. you’ve got some nerve pulling this shit,” the chief’s gaze then shifted back to you, his expression softening into an approving smile. “i’ve got to hand it to you. it’s your first day, and you’ve already brought in a real asshole. not a bad start.”

a moment later, jungkook appeared, his tall frame cutting an imposing figure as he entered the room. his eyes flickered toward you briefly, registering your presence before he moved past. his gaze was focused and impassive, and his silence spoke volumes about his reserved nature.

you couldn’t resist the urge to address him, a trace of sarcasm slipping into your voice as you said, “thanks for the hand. so much for a dedicated officer.” jungkook paused for a split second, his head turning slightly to acknowledge your comment. his expression remained stoic, but his response was measured and direct. “looked like you had it under control,” he said simply before continuing on his way.

the brief exchange left a lingering tension in the air. you couldn’t deny the sting of his dismissive tone, but you also recognized the unspoken acknowledgment of your capability. it was a subtle reminder that while his focus was unwavering and his dedication to his work was undeniable, his interactions were often laced with a cool, distant demeanor.

the bar was dimly lit, with the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses providing a comforting backdrop to the evening. the warm amber glow from the hanging lights cast a soft sheen over the polished wooden bar and the array of bottles that lined the shelves. you found a quiet corner, where the atmosphere felt more intimate, allowing you to unwind from the day's events.

hoseok was already there, sitting at the bar with a relaxed demeanor that contrasted sharply with the tension of the office. as you slid into the seat next to him, he greeted you with a warm smile and a nod. his presence seemed to exude a sense of calm, a welcome reprieve from the rigid formality of the police station.

he gestured to the bartender, who promptly set a cold beer before you. the chilled glass felt good in your hand, and you took a long sip, savoring the cool, crisp flavor. hoseok leaned back, his posture casual yet attentive as he regarded you with a look of genuine interest.

“so,” he began, his voice smooth and easygoing, “congratulations on your first day. not many rookies can say they’ve brought someone in so quickly. that’s impressive.”

you nodded, appreciative of his acknowledgment. “thanks, hoseok. it was a rough start, but it feels good to have made a difference.” he took a sip from his own glass, the beer foaming slightly as he did. “you handled it well,” he continued. “but there are a few people you should keep an eye on. jungkook might be dedicated, but he’s also known for pushing boundaries to get results. and then there’s the hierarchy in the department—some are more concerned with climbing the ranks than with actual justice.”

you listened carefully, absorbing his advice. the insights he shared painted a clearer picture of the dynamics at play within the precinct. “i appreciate the heads-up,” you said. “it’s good to know who i might need to watch out for.”

his expression softened as he looked at you, his gaze reassuring. “just remember to stay true to yourself. the job can be tough, but it’s important to keep your integrity intact. you’ve got the right spirit, and that’s what counts.” you took another sip of your beer, letting the conversation drift into the background as you allowed yourself a moment to relax. the atmosphere of the bar, combined with hoseok’s easy presence, created a sense of respite that you hadn’t realized you needed so badly.

as the evening wore on, the conversation flowed naturally. hoseok spoke of his experiences, sharing anecdotes that brought a smile to your face. his storytelling was engaging, his voice rich with warmth and humor. there was an ease to his presence that made you feel at ease, a soothing balm for the frayed nerves of your first day.

when the time came to leave, he offered to walk you home. you accepted his offer with a grateful nod, appreciating the gesture. the night air was cool and crisp as you stepped outside, and the city’s lights cast a soft glow on the streets. hoseok’s company made the walk pleasant, his presence a comforting contrast to the challenges you had faced earlier.

as you made your way through the quiet streets, the conversation between you continued in a relaxed manner. his insights into the precinct and his easy demeanor made the walk enjoyable, a soothing end to a long day. the distance to your home felt shorter with his company, and you found yourself feeling more at ease with each step.

when you finally reached your front door, hoseok gave you a friendly smile. “well, this is where i leave you,” he said. “rest up. tomorrow’s another day, and i’m sure you’ll handle it just as well.” you thanked him sincerely, appreciating the support and camaraderie he had shown. as you watched him walk away, you felt a renewed sense of confidence. the night had provided a welcome break, and his presence had been a reminder that even in the most demanding of jobs, there were people who understood and offered genuine support.

the next morning, the precinct was a whirlwind of activity. papers were shuffled with frantic energy, phones rang incessantly, and officers moved briskly from one task to another. you found yourself buried under a mountain of paperwork, the endless stream of files and reports stacking up around you. your desk was a battleground of yellowed manila folders and scattered notes, each one demanding your attention.

just as you were deeply engrossed in sorting through a particularly complex file, the office door swung open. the chief entered, flanked by jungkook, whose presence immediately commanded attention. the room fell silent as the chief’s authoritative voice cut through the hum of activity. “everyone, give me your attention,” he announced.

you looked up, your gaze shifting to the chief and jungkook as they made their way toward your desk. the chief’s expression was serious, a hint of urgency in his eyes. he gestured for you and jungkook to follow him, and you both rose from your seats, curiosity piqued. the chief led you to his office, the atmosphere charged with a palpable sense of anticipation. once inside, he motioned for you and jungkook to take a seat across from his desk. he settled into his chair, his demeanor reflecting the gravity of the matter at hand.

as he opened a file, the chief began, “we’ve got a major case on our hands. this involves an underground mafia organization that’s been wreaking havoc across the city. their activities include drug trafficking, illegal gambling, and a number of violent crimes. we’ve managed to gather some intel, but we’re still missing key pieces.”

the chief’s words painted a grim picture of the criminal underworld, his tone laced with both frustration and determination. he detailed the mafia’s operations, their influence on various sectors, and their notorious ability to evade capture. the room was thick with tension as he laid out the scope of the problem.

“there’s a lot at stake here,” he continued, “and i need the best team on this. that’s why i’m assigning you both to this case. you’ll be working together to infiltrate the organization.”

jungkook’s expression shifted to one of discontent. he scoffed, his tone dripping with skepticism. “you want me to work on a cold case with a rookie?” the challenge in his voice was unmistakable, and the air grew taut with his disdain. you met his gaze head-on, refusing to be intimidated. “the case just might freeze if you’re the one on it,” you retorted sharply, your voice steady despite the tension.

jungkook’s eyes narrowed, ready to launch a rebuttal, but the chief intervened. “that’s enough,” he said firmly. “jungkook’s experience combined with your determination makes for a strong team. i’m confident that you both can handle this.”

turning his attention to you, the chief continued, “here’s what i have in mind: you two will go undercover as a couple. it’s a risky move, but it’s the best way to gain their trust and get the intel we need.”

the suggestion hit you like a cold wave. the thought of pretending to be involved in a relationship, with all the implications it carried, brought a flash of painful memories. you saw the ghostly image of your parents—their criminal entanglements, the secrets they harbored, and the tragic end that had defined your life. the prospect of immersing yourself in a false identity stirred up feelings of unease and internal conflict.

jungkook seemed to sense your hesitation but maintained his professional demeanor. he simply nodded in reluctant agreement, his eyes briefly meeting yours. “fine,” he said, “but let’s make this clear—don’t fuck it up.”

the chief, satisfied with your acceptance, stood and dismissed you. “get prepared,” he said, “we’ll need to move quickly. i expect updates as soon as you have them.” as he left the office, the weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders. the task ahead was daunting, the stakes high, and the personal cost considerable. jungkook’s parting words echoed in your mind as he walked away, leaving you with a renewed sense of purpose mixed with a lingering apprehension.

the sun had begun to dip below the horizon when you and jungkook convened in the small, windowless meeting room of the precinct. the walls were lined with whiteboards scrawled with notes and diagrams, evidence of the case you were about to dive into. the room was bathed in the cold glow of fluorescent lights, casting a sterile, almost clinical ambiance that seemed to fit the seriousness of the task ahead.

he had already spread out a series of case files and photographs on the long conference table. you approached, pulling out the chair opposite him and taking a seat. as you glanced over the materials, the weight of the operation settled in. the mafia’s structure, their operations, key players—every detail was crucial.

“alright, let’s start with the basics,” you said, flipping open a file. “we need to understand their hierarchy and get close enough to gather intel.” jungkook nodded, but his eyes betrayed a hint of impatience. “we know that already. the real question is how we’re going to get in. we need to build trust, but we have to be careful not to blow our cover.”

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “we’ve gone over this. we need to present ourselves as a couple who’s looking to get involved in their operations. it’s a risky move, but it’s our best shot.” jungkook leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the papers. “so, we’re just supposed to show up, act like we’re madly in love, and hope they let us in? it’s not that simple.”

the frustration in his voice was evident, and you couldn’t help but snap back. “well, if you have a better plan, i’m all ears. otherwise, we’re going with this.” his face darkened, his eyes narrowing as he responded sharply, “this isn’t gonna work if we can’t even pretend to like each other. you need to hate me a little less, or this whole thing is a waste of time.”

you raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by his candor. “what do you mean, ‘hate you’? i don’t hate you.” his expression was a mix of surprise and annoyance. “everyone here either hates me or fears me. i’ve never met anyone who didn’t feel one of those things.”

you met his gaze firmly, your voice steady. “i have nothing to hate or be afraid of. i’m here to do a job, and that’s what matters.”

at your words, jungkook’s surprise shifted into something else—an unexpected, almost unsettling smile. it was brief but intense, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability beneath his hardened exterior. you felt a shiver run down your spine, unsure of how to respond to the change in his demeanor.

clearing your throat, you forced yourself to refocus on the case. “so, let’s get back to it. how do we manage to get into their inner circle without raising suspicions?”

jungkook straightened, his professional mask back in place. “we need to establish a story that’s believable. if we’re going in as a couple, we need to make it convincing. they’ll want to see that we’re genuinely interested in their operations, not just posing for the sake of an investigation.”

you nodded, absorbing his words. “right. we should start by researching the specific events they’re involved in. we need to find a way to approach them as potential investors or partners, something that makes us valuable to their operations.”

jungkook flipped through the files, pointing to a set of documents. “these are some of their recent deals and contacts. we can use this information to craft our backstory. maybe we should focus on a particular aspect of their business, like their money laundering operations. it’s a sensitive topic for them, and showing interest could get us closer.”

you leaned in, examining the documents he highlighted. “that makes sense. if we can convince them we’re serious about investing or collaborating, it might give us the leverage we need.” his gaze softened slightly, though his demeanor remained businesslike. “we should also work on our cover story—something that feels authentic. it has to be detailed enough to withstand scrutiny, but flexible enough to adapt as needed.”

as the conversation continued, the tension between you seemed to ebb and flow. the earlier friction had given way to a more collaborative atmosphere, though jungkook’s sharpness remained. the plan was forming, piece by piece, and despite the challenges, you felt a cautious optimism about the direction you were heading.

the room filled with the sound of shuffling papers and the occasional murmur of discussion as you both delved deeper into the case. it was clear that working together would be fraught with difficulties, but there was a shared sense of purpose driving you forward. as you finalized the details of your plan, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this partnership, however strained, would be pivotal to the success of the mission. with his experience and your determination, there was hope that you could navigate the treacherous waters of the criminal underworld and come out on the other side.

the two of you entered the chief’s office, the space exuding authority with its polished mahogany desk and high-backed leather chairs. the chief sat behind his desk, reviewing papers with a concentration that was almost palpable. his eyes flickered up as you and jungkook approached, and he gestured for you both to take a seat.

“so,” the chief began, his tone commanding, “what have you come up with?”

you cleared your throat, your nerves barely hidden behind a facade of calm professionalism. “we’ve reviewed the case files and cross-referenced them with known locations and events. it turns out some of the suspects frequently visit a particular club. our plan is to use that as our entry point. we’ll attend the club, make ourselves noticeable, and try to attract their attention.”

the chief raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise crossing his features. “you seem quite familiar with this kind of operation. is that experience talking?”

the question struck a chord deep within you. you stiffened, feeling a sudden weight on your chest. memories of your parents—of their life entangled in crime and the fatal consequences of their choices—flooded your mind. you clenched your fists in your lap, struggling to maintain your composure. the weight of their actions and their ultimate fate bore down on you, leaving you speechless.

jungkook, sensing the tension, cleared his throat and turned to the chief. “so, is the plan good to go?” the chief nodded, still looking slightly taken aback. “yes, it’s approved. make sure you follow through meticulously.”

as you and jungkook prepared to leave the office, he leaned closer, his voice low. “the chief has a point. you seem to know a lot about these operations. it’s almost as if you’ve had firsthand experience.” you stopped in your tracks, the words hitting you harder than you expected. your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt a deep, uncomfortable twist in your stomach. jungkook’s observation was unsettlingly accurate, and you knew it was time to confront the shadows of your past.

turning to face him, you took a steadying breath. “i do have experience. my parents were involved in the underworld—running illegal operations, managing deals. they were deeply entrenched in the criminal world.”

jungkook’s eyes widened, a mixture of shock and disbelief crossing his face. you continued, your voice steady but tinged with an emotional edge, “they were consumed by their greed, and it ultimately led to their deaths. i wanted to distance myself from their life and prove that i could be more than just their legacy. that’s why i became a police officer—to fight against the kind of world they lived in.” he remained silent, his expression a complex blend of empathy and confusion. his eyes met yours, but he didn’t speak, as if searching for the right words or grappling with his own thoughts.

you felt the weight of his gaze and the burden of your past crashing down on you. with a final, lingering look, you turned and walked out of the chief’s office. each step you took echoed with the heaviness of your confession and the turmoil of your memories. you left jungkook behind, the silence between you now filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

that night, you prepared for the assignment with an unease that settled deep in your bones. the weight of your decision pressed heavily on your shoulders as you stared at yourself in the mirror. the apartment was filled with the cloying scent of perfume and the electric hum of makeup lights, casting a harsh glow that accentuated your tense expression.

you began the transformation, each movement deliberate and filled with a mix of apprehension and resolve. you started with your makeup, applying heavier layers than usual. the foundation was thick and flawless, masking the fatigue in your skin. you carefully blended eyeshadow into dark, sultry hues, drawing attention to your eyes with dramatic eyeliner. the lipstick you chose was a deep, daring red—an assertive statement you were determined to make.

next came the dress—a silver sheath that clung to your figure, sparkling under the dim lights of your bathroom. it was revealing, designed to captivate and command attention. the fabric felt cool and alien against your skin, every movement making the dress shimmer with a deceptive allure. you slipped on the matching high heels, their sharp, stiletto heels adding an extra edge to your demeanor.

as you looked at your reflection, you felt a pang of disconnection. the person staring back at you was a stranger, adorned in clothes that seemed to represent everything you weren’t—a stark contrast to your true self. the glamorous exterior was a necessary facade for the job, but it felt like a mask, concealing your true identity beneath layers of artifice. despite the discomfort, you steeled yourself. You had a mission to complete, and no amount of emotional turmoil would deter you.

the sound of a car horn honking outside shattered your thoughts, pulling you from your introspection. you took a deep breath and exited your apartment, the cold night air meeting you as you stepped out. there, beside his car, was jungkook.

when his eyes landed on you, they widened in shock, clearly taken aback by your transformation. his gaze swept over you with a mixture of surprise and admiration. you felt a blush of self-consciousness as you met his eyes, his reaction a silent commentary on how different you looked. despite the initial shock, there was a flicker of appreciation in his eyes—an acknowledgment of your effort.

you, too, were momentarily stunned by jungkook’s appearance. he stood beside his sleek car, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit that accentuated his strong frame. his look was polished and sophisticated, contrasting sharply with your own provocative attire. the suit was a deep navy, with a crisp white shirt and a tie that added a touch of elegance to his ensemble. he looked every bit the part of a man who belonged in high society, and his presence was both reassuring and intimidating.

clearing your throat to mask your surprise, you asked, “are we good to go?” his expression softened slightly, and he nodded. “yes, we’re ready. let’s get going.”

he opened the car door for you with a chivalrous gesture, the smooth motion of the handle a stark contrast to the tension you felt. you slid into the car, the interior’s plush comfort a brief reprieve from the stress. jungkook closed the door behind you and took his place in the driver’s seat, the engine rumbling to life as he navigated the streets towards the club. as the car glided through the night, you could not shake the feeling of being on the edge of something profound. the club’s lights were already visible in the distance, casting a neon glow against the night sky. you glanced at jungkook, noting his focused expression and the way he gripped the steering wheel.

the car rolled to a smooth stop outside the club, and as the engine’s hum faded, the scene before you emerged from the darkness. the club was a sprawling edifice of neon lights and shadowy corners, its façade a patchwork of flickering signs and half-hidden windows. the sign above the entrance, flashing in an intermittent crimson glow, read “la lune” in bold, cursive script. the letters seemed to pulse with a rhythm that matched the bass-heavy thrum of music escaping from within.

jungkook glanced at you, his eyes betraying a hint of concern masked by his usual stoic demeanor. “are you ready?” you nodded, forcing a confident smile. “let’s do this.”

with that, you stepped out of the car and made your way to the entrance. jungkook gave you a curt nod before heading off to blend into the shadows, his own role in this operation beginning in earnest. the club’s bouncers gave you a cursory glance, their eyes barely flicking over you as they were more focused on the stream of patrons entering and exiting. you walked through the velvet-draped doorway and into the dimly lit interior, where the scent of smoke, alcohol, and perfume mingled in the air.

the club’s interior was a labyrinth of opulence and decadence. low, plush couches with black leather upholstery lined the walls, each surrounding low tables adorned with empty glasses and half-eaten plates of food. crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their multi-colored lights casting an otherworldly glow over the patrons. the dance floor was a pulsing sea of bodies, the crowd moving in a hypnotic rhythm to the pounding beat of the music that reverberated through the space. the walls were adorned with dark, abstract art that seemed to shift and swirl with the ever-changing lights.

you approached the bar, ordering a drink to help steady your nerves. the bartender, a burly man with a face that seemed permanently set in a scowl, slid a glass of something strong and smoky towards you. you took a deep sip, feeling the warmth spread through you as the liquor began to dull your apprehensions.

as you sipped your drink, you kept a watchful eye on the crowd. it wasn’t long before you noticed a group of men—shady and well-dressed—making their way to a semi-private area cordoned off by an almost transparent curtain. they moved with a sense of purpose, their body language exuding an air of authority and secrecy. Intrigued, you decided to follow.

the curtain parted slightly as you approached, and you slipped behind it, careful not to make any noise. you found yourself in a small, dimly lit room, sparsely furnished with a few plush chairs and a single pole set in the center. the men were gathered around, their conversation low but intense.

one of them, a man with slicked-back hair and an air of casual arrogance, noticed your presence. his gaze flicked over you with a mixture of surprise and interest. “if you’re as pretty as you seem, step out for us,” he said, his voice smooth but with a hint of condescension.

with a flick of your wrist, you let the curtain fall back and stepped into the room, the soft glow of the lights highlighting your silhouette. you walked confidently to the center of the room, where the men’s eyes were fixed on you. a smirk played on your lips as you adopted a flirtatious stance, feeling the weight of their gazes like a tangible pressure.

“good evening, gentlemen,” you purred, your voice dripping with charm as you approached them. you could feel the air shift as their attention intensified, their interest piqued by your boldness. one of the men, seated comfortably in a chair with an air of superiority, raised an eyebrow. “care to put on a show for us?” he asked, gesturing toward the pole.

you raised an eyebrow in response, a playful glint in your eye. “if that’s what you’d like,” you said, moving toward the pole with a graceful, deliberate sway.

you began to dance, your movements fluid and mesmerizing. you wrapped your body around the pole, performing with a practiced ease that drew appreciative murmurs from the men. the room was filled with the sound of your high heels clicking on the polished floor and the soft, rhythmic rustle of your dress. when you finished, you stepped away from the pole and approached the man who had made the initial request. you perched yourself on his lap, feeling his warm breath against your neck as you leaned in close. his hands instinctively went to your waist, and you let him savor the moment as he praised you with an approving nod.

“she’s a gem, isn’t she?” a voice said from behind you. both you and the man turned to see jungkook stepping out from the shadows, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips. the sudden appearance of him, dressed in a sharp suit, added an unexpected layer to the encounter. the man’s eyes narrowed with curiosity as he regarded him. “and who might you be?” he asked, his tone laced with suspicion.

jungkook exhaled a plume of smoke and took a seat on an empty couch, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “min woobin,” he said, gesturing to you with a casual wave. “this is my girlfriend, lee rachel.”

you leaned closer to the man, your breath hot against his ear. “it’s a pleasure to meet you,” you whispered, your voice low and sultry. the man’s demeanor softened slightly, and he seemed genuinely intrigued. “so, what brings you both here?” he asked, his eyes flickering between you and jungkook.

jungkook took a slow drag from his cigarette before responding. “we’re here to do business. i’ve heard quite a bit about your operations, and we’re interested in learning more.” the man stiffened slightly at his words, his gaze shifting to you as you continued to maintain your intimate position on his lap. “you’d have to meet my boss,” he said, his voice low and guarded.

you trailed your fingers along his chest, your touch light and deliberate. “if he’s as handsome as you are,” you said with a flirtatious smile, “we just might be interested.” the man’s expression grew pleased, and he reached for your waist with a touch that bordered on possessive. you halted him with a click of your tongue, taking his hands and guiding them higher, just above your thighs.

“only if you let us meet him,” you said, your voice low and commanding. jungkook’s face betrayed a flicker of surprise as he watched the interaction unfold, but the man, undeterred, nodded in agreement. “alright,” he said, a hint of anticipation in his voice. “i’ll arrange for you to meet him.”

as you and jungkook followed the group of men away from the club, you could feel a subtle undercurrent of tension in the air, a quiet anticipation that prickled at your skin. the men led you through a maze of streets, their steps confident and purposeful. the cityscape blurred into a dark tapestry of neon lights and shadowy alleyways as you climbed into the back of a sleek black car, its windows tinted to an opaque darkness.

jungkook settled beside you, the soft hum of the engine providing a low, rhythmic backdrop to the night’s proceedings. he glanced at you, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “you’re playing your role well,” he said, his voice low and tinged with an undertone that you couldn’t quite place. the subtle shift in his tone left you with a sense of unease, but you smiled back at him, determined to stay in character.

“thanks, woobin,” you replied, your voice smooth and confident. the car glided through the city streets, weaving through traffic with practiced ease. the journey seemed to stretch on endlessly, the city lights outside shifting from bright and vibrant to dim and foreboding. as the vehicle took a final turn into a narrow, secluded road, the surroundings became increasingly desolate. the buildings were older, their facades grimy and weathered, creating a stark contrast to the more polished areas you had passed through.

the car stopped in front of an unassuming warehouse, its exterior nondescript except for a small, barely visible sign that read “apex distribution.” the men exited the vehicle first, holding the door open for you and jungkook as you followed them inside. the interior was dimly lit, the overhead lights flickering intermittently. the space was vast and industrial, filled with crates and metal shelving units that cast long, ominous shadows across the concrete floor. the air was heavy with the scent of dampness and rust.

you and jungkook were guided through a series of hallways and staircases, each step echoing in the quiet, oppressive atmosphere. the corridors seemed to go on forever, their walls adorned with faded, peeling posters and graffiti that hinted at the warehouse’s grimy history. finally, the group reached a large, reinforced door. one of the men knocked in a specific pattern, and the door creaked open, revealing a room that contrasted sharply with the warehouse’s exterior.

the room was lit by dim, yellowing lights, casting a harsh, almost sickly glow over its contents. the space was a makeshift arena, its center dominated by a large, circular platform surrounded by a motley assortment of chairs and benches. the walls were lined with various weapons and tools, their purposes unclear but intimidating. a large, imposing man sat at the center of it all, his presence exuding an air of authority and menace.

the men bowed as they approached, their voices low as they informed the boss of the potential recruits. the boss, a man with a heavyset build and a face marked by years of hard living, regarded you and jungkook with a steely gaze. his eyes, cold and calculating, seemed to pierce through you as he assessed the situation.

“you must be lee rachel and min woobin,” he said, his voice gravelly and commanding. you nodded, keeping your composure. “that’s right.”

the boss raised an eyebrow. “are you two dating?” you exchanged a brief glance before affirming, “yes.”

“are you serious about joining?” he asked, his tone firm and scrutinizing. jungkook responded with a decisive nod. “yes.”

the boss leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving you. “prove it.”

the simple command caused a ripple of unease between you and jungkook. the atmosphere shifted, the tension palpable as you tried to gauge the meaning behind his words. the boss’s expression remained unreadable, his gaze steady and unwavering. you swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. “how?”

the boss shrugged nonchalantly, a twisted smile playing on his lips. “you seem like a happy couple. let’s see if joining means more to you than your relationship.”

the words hung in the air, their implications sending a shiver down your spine. the men surrounding you and jungkook began to clear a path, dragging you both towards the center of the room. your heart raced as you looked around, trying to make sense of the unfolding situation. the boss’s men moved with purpose, setting up an impromptu arena. you and jungkook were directed to opposite sides, and gloves were handed to both of you—heavy, black leather that felt oddly cold against your skin. the sense of dread grew as the realization of what was about to unfold hit you.

“what do you want?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to stay calm. the boss’s eyes glinted with a cold, calculating light. he took a slow drag from his cigar before exhaling a plume of smoke. “make each other bleed.”

the command was delivered with an unsettling calmness that only added to the intensity of the moment. the men around you watched with a mix of anticipation and approval, their eyes following every movement with rapt attention. jungkook’s face betrayed a flicker of shock, but he quickly masked it with a steely resolve. he glanced at you, his gaze intense and unreadable. the weight of the boss’s challenge settled heavily on both of you, the tension in the room thickening as the reality of the situation sank in.

“prove it,” the boss repeated, his voice echoing in the oppressive silence that followed his declaration.

you and jungkook stood in the center of the arena, the gloves tight on your hands. the noise of the crowd faded into the background as you focused on each other, the enormity of the situation pressing in on you. this was not just a test of physical endurance but a trial of your commitment to the cause and to each other.

you met jungkook’s eyes across the makeshift arena, the intensity of the moment reflected in his gaze. there was a hesitation there, a flicker of reluctance that spoke volumes. his eyes, usually so firm and resolute, now held an apologetic edge that made your heart ache. the silent communication between you was almost palpable, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the air.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with concern. you nodded, the decision burning through you despite the pain it was causing. “i’m sure.”

the look of regret in his eyes was almost too much to bear. but there was no turning back now. the boss’s eyes glinted with cold satisfaction as he watched the exchange, his anticipation evident as he leaned back in his chair, waiting for the action to unfold.

the fight began with a sudden burst of energy, both of you moving with a blend of calculated aggression and reluctant restraint. jungkook’s punches were sharp and precise, his movements swift and fluid. you countered with equal intensity, each strike met with a determined resolve to prove your worth. the air was filled with the sharp, jarring sounds of flesh against flesh, each impact reverberating through the arena.

you could feel the sting of pain with every blow, the force of jungkook’s punches causing your muscles to ache and your breath to catch. blood began to mix with sweat, streaking down your face and staining your clothes. the once pristine floor was becoming a grim tableau of bruises and blood, each mark a testament to the ferocity of your struggle.

jungkook's face was a mask of concentration, his expression shifting between resolve and regret as he landed hit after hit. you retaliated with just as much fervor, your punches landing with a satisfying thud as you fought to maintain your ground. the fight was a brutal dance, each move a testament to your determination and unwillingness to back down. the battle continued, each strike leaving a trail of pain and fatigue. both of you were breathing heavily, your movements becoming more sluggish as the minutes wore on. blood mixed with sweat, soaking through your clothes and creating a slippery, crimson sheen on the arena floor. the grunts and gasps of exertion filled the space, punctuated by the occasional groan of pain.

eventually, the intensity of the fight began to take its toll. both of you were staggering, your energy waning as exhaustion set in. you stumbled, falling to the ground beside jungkook, your body aching with the cumulative effects of the fight. the floor was unforgiving, the cold concrete pressing against your bruised and battered skin. despite the pain, you forced yourself to stand, pushing through the fatigue that threatened to overwhelm you. jungkook was in a similar state, his face smeared with blood and sweat, his movements unsteady. you both faced each other, each breath labored and heavy, the fight leaving its mark on both of you.

as you struggled to regain your footing, the boss’s voice cut through the haze of pain and exhaustion. “i’ve seen enough.”

the words brought a moment of trepidation. you exchanged worried glances with jungkook, the uncertainty of the boss’s statement hanging in the air. the men around the arena shifted, their expressions unreadable as they awaited the boss’s final verdict. the boss’s gaze was fixed on you and jungkook, his expression inscrutable. he paused, letting the silence stretch, the tension palpable as you waited for his decision. finally, he broke the silence with a slight, almost imperceptible nod.

“welcome aboard,” he said, his voice carrying a cold finality.

relief washed over you, mingling with the pain and exhaustion that had become a part of you. you looked at jungkook, who was staring at you with a mix of disbelief and exhaustion. despite the bruises and blood, there was a flicker of something like relief in his eyes. the men around you began to move, their demeanor shifting from anticipation to approval. the boss’s words had sealed your place, and as the arena cleared, you and jungkook were left standing amid the aftermath of your brutal test. the fight had been a grueling ordeal, but it had served its purpose, proving your resolve and determination.

in the dimly lit room, you tended to your wounds with a focused, practiced precision. the light from the single lamp cast a soft glow, illuminating your silhouette as you worked. the air was thick with the mingled scents of blood, sweat, and antiseptic, creating a heavy atmosphere that mirrored the intensity of the fight you had just endured.

you stood in front of the mirror, your shirt discarded, leaving you in just a pair of underwear and a loose shirt. the room was small but functional, with a modest bed and a few scattered belongings that gave it a lived-in feel. as you methodically wrapped a bandage around your waist, you could feel jungkook’s gaze on you, his eyes tracking your every movement with a mixture of concern and something more.

he was leaning against the doorframe, his own wounds treated but still fresh. his eyes were drawn to you, and though he tried to avert his gaze, he couldn't help but take in the sight of you, so focused and composed despite the pain.

“i didn’t expect you to hit so hard,” he said, breaking the silence. there was a hint of admiration in his voice, though it was tinged with the discomfort of knowing just how hard you had fought. you chuckled softly, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “could say the same to you.”

the exchange was light, but the air was thick with an undercurrent of something unspoken. as you finished wrapping the bandage around your waist, you moved to tend to his injuries. he stood still, watching as you approached him, your movements fluid and deliberate. his gaze lingered on you, taking in the way you moved with a mix of tenderness and professionalism, your big shirt barely covering your figure.

you smiled at the intensity of his gaze, the way his eyes seemed to follow your every move. “don’t even dream about it,” you said, your tone teasing. he scoffed, but there was a softness in his eyes that belied his attempt to appear indifferent. “i don’t know what you mean.”

you leaned in close to him, your face mere inches from his, and his breath caught in his throat. the proximity was charged with a palpable tension, his body tensing as if bracing for something more. your breath mingled with his, the heat of the moment making your pulse quicken. but before he could react, you pulled away, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

“your forehead’s bleeding,” you said, gently wiping away the blood with a piece of cloth. he looked at you with a mixture of surprise and sarcasm. “my savior,” he said, his tone dripping with mock reverence.

you continued to clean his wound, the act both intimate and professional. each touch was deliberate, your fingers brushing against his skin with a careful precision. the contrast between your soft, gentle care and the roughness of the fight was stark, creating a moment of connection amidst the chaos. as you finished, you met his gaze once more, the teasing smile lingering on your lips. the air between you was charged, the earlier tension now replaced with a different kind of intensity. jungkook’s eyes held a mixture of gratitude and something more, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond that had formed between you during the fight.

the days and nights in the mafia compound blended together, each one a test of your will and resolve. every time you emerged from your shared room with jungkook, the world outside seemed a little darker, the people a little more dangerous. but something else changed too—something subtle, almost imperceptible, but undeniable. the more time you spent with him in this underworld, the closer you became.

at first, the closeness was purely practical. you needed to rely on each other to survive, to navigate the twisted labyrinth of the mafia’s inner workings. conversations began as cold, clipped exchanges of necessary information—strategies for gaining the trust of the men around you, plans for your next steps, analyzing every word and action of those who held power over you. but as the days passed, those exchanges grew warmer, more layered with unspoken understanding. the subtle nuances of your interactions began to shift. when you spoke to him, it wasn’t just about the mission anymore—it was about something deeper, something that neither of you could quite name.

one evening, you found yourselves sitting side by side on the small bed in your room, the low hum of the compound's activity filtering through the thin walls. jungkook was leaning against the headboard, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as if lost in thought. you were beside him, close enough to feel the warmth of his body, yet there was still a small distance between you—both physical and emotional. “the big deal with the weapons shipment’s soon,” you said, breaking the silence that had settled between you. “we need to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

jungkook nodded, his expression serious. “i know. but i’ve been thinking, if things go wrong, we need a backup plan.” you turned to him, studying his profile. the sharp lines of his face were softened by the dim light, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable. “what are you suggesting?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“if it gets too dangerous, we pull out. no heroics,” he said, finally meeting your gaze. “i’m not risking your life for this.”

the sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and you felt a flicker of something warm in your chest—something that had been growing, slowly, over the weeks you had spent together. You weren’t sure what it was, but it made you want to trust him more than you ever had before.

“i’m not risking your life either,” you replied, your voice just as firm. “we’re in this together, aren’t we?”

he looked at you for a long moment, as if searching your eyes for something. Then, almost imperceptibly, he smiled—a small, soft curve of his lips that made your heart skip a beat. it was a rare sight, one that you had only seen a handful of times, and each time it felt like a gift. the silence between you grew comfortable, the tension that had always simmered beneath the surface beginning to ease. you could feel the shift in the air, the way your bodies seemed to naturally gravitate toward each other, closing the small distance that remained.

as the night wore on, you found yourselves talking more, the conversation flowing easier than it ever had before. it was still about the mission, but there were small moments of vulnerability woven into your words—tiny glimpses into the people you were behind the facades you wore for the mafia. “you know,” he said after a while, his voice softer now, “when we first started this, i didn’t think we’d make it this far. i thought Ii’d end up getting us both killed.”

“you’re not giving yourself enough credit,” you replied, your tone equally gentle. “you’ve kept us alive, and more than that—you’ve kept us sane.” he chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “you’ve been keeping me sane too, you know.” the admission hung in the air between you, and for a moment, neither of you knew what to say. you simply sat there, side by side, in a quiet understanding that was more powerful than any words you could have spoken.

as the days continued, those moments of quiet closeness became more frequent. you found yourself seeking out his presence whenever you could, whether it was during a tense meeting with the mafia bosses or a rare moment of downtime in your room. and he did the same—he gravitated toward you, his presence a constant, reassuring anchor in the chaos of your surroundings. there were nights when you would find yourselves sitting on the floor of your room, sharing a bottle of whiskey you had stolen from the compound’s stash. the alcohol would loosen your tongues, and the conversations would drift from the mission to more personal topics—your pasts, your fears, your dreams for a life beyond the mafia.

one such night, jungkook leaned back against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him as he stared at the ceiling. “you ever think about what you’ll do when this is all over?” he asked, his voice tinged with a wistful longing. you took a sip of whiskey, savoring the burn as it slid down your throat. “sometimes,” you admitted. “but it’s hard to picture a life outside of this. i’ve been doing this for so long, i don’t even know what normal is anymore.”

he nodded, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “yeah, i get that. but, i don’t know, i like to think there’s something better waiting for us. aomething peaceful.” you turned your head to look at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his words. “you really think we’ll find peace?”

he met your gaze, his eyes dark and intense. “if we make it out of this alive, i’ll do everything i can to find it. for both of us.” his words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken promise. you felt a surge of emotion that you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in a long time—hope. it was fragile and fleeting, but it was there, flickering in your chest like a tiny flame.

the nights grew colder as the days passed, and you found yourselves huddling closer together for warmth. it was an unspoken agreement—neither of you acknowledged it, but neither of you pulled away. when the silence between you stretched on, it was no longer uncomfortable, but rather a shared understanding that words weren’t necessary. there were moments when you caught yourself watching him, studying the way his brow furrowed in concentration as he plotted your next move, or the way his jaw clenched when he was frustrated. and sometimes, you would catch him watching you too, his gaze soft and unreadable, as if he was trying to decipher the puzzle that was you.

one evening, after a particularly grueling day, you found yourselves in the small, makeshift kitchen of the compound, the room dimly lit by a single overhead bulb. you were both exhausted, your bodies aching from the physical and emotional toll of the day. jungkook was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched you rummage through the sparse supplies. “we’ve got nothing but instant ramen,” you said, holding up a pack with a grimace. “again.”

he smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement despite the fatigue etched into his features. “better than nothing, i guess.” you sighed, tearing open the pack and setting a pot of water to boil. as you waited, the silence between you grew, but it was no longer the heavy, tension-filled quiet of before. it was the kind of silence that felt comfortable, like an old friend. when the ramen was finally ready, you split it between two bowls and handed one to jungkook. he took it with a nod of thanks, and the two of you sat down at the small table, eating in companionable silence.

after a while, he set down his bowl, his expression contemplative. “you know,” he began, his voice low, “i never thought i’d say this, but i don’t mind this. being here, with you.” you looked up at him, surprised by his admission. “really?”

he nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. “yeah. i mean, it’s not ideal, obviously. but, i’ve been through worse, and i’ve never had someone to go through it with before. it makes a difference.” his words struck a chord deep within you, stirring emotions that you had long buried. “i feel the same way,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i never thought i’d trust someone like this again. but with you, it’s different.” his gaze softened, and for a moment, you thought he might reach out, bridge the small gap between you. but instead, he simply nodded, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

the days passed, each one bringing you closer together in ways you hadn’t anticipated. the connection between you grew, deepened, becoming something more than just the partnership you had started with. it was subtle, unspoken, but it was there—an undercurrent of understanding and shared experience that bound you together in ways you couldn’t explain.

the night had settled in, wrapping the compound in a blanket of darkness and silence. you were in your shared room with jungkook, the dim light from a small lamp casting soft shadows on the walls. the two of you were sitting at the small table in the corner, finishing up the remnants of a late-night meal, the conversation quiet but comfortable. as you were about to clear the dishes, your phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with an incoming call. you glanced at the name flashing on the screen—hoseok.

you hesitated for a moment, then picked up the phone, bringing it to your ear. “hey,” you greeted, your voice soft. “hey,” hoseok’s familiar voice came through, warm and slightly concerned. “are you okay? i haven’t heard from you in a while.”

you smiled, the sound of his voice bringing a sense of comfort that you hadn’t realized you were missing. “i’m okay. things have been intense, but i’m managing.”

“is he being nice?” hoseok asked, his tone light but with a hint of protectiveness that made you smile. you glanced over at jungkook, who was watching you with a curious expression. “yeah, he’s being nice,” you assured, your tone teasing. “no need to worry.”

jungkook’s eyebrows raised slightly at that, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on you as he continued to eat. hoseok chuckled on the other end of the line. “good. i’d hate to have to come over there and straighten him out.” you laughed softly, shaking your head. “i appreciate the concern, but I think i’ve got it under control.”

there was a brief pause on the other end before hoseok spoke again, his tone more casual. “when you’re back, how about we grab a drink? just to catch up.” you felt a warm, comforting feeling spread through you at the thought. “i’d like that,” you replied, your voice soft.

“great,” he said, the smile evident in his voice. “take care of yourself, alright? i’ll see you when you’re back.” you replied softly, “you too, okay? see you soon.”

you ended the call, setting the phone down on the table. when you looked up, you saw jungkook’s gaze still fixed on you, his expression unreadable. “who was that?” he asked, his voice even but with an edge of something you couldn’t quite place. “hoseok,” you answered casually, not thinking much of it.

jungkook scoffed, a short, disbelieving sound that made you pause. you turned to look at him more closely, frowning slightly. “what’s your problem?” you asked, your tone more curious than accusatory. “nothing,” he replied quickly, too quickly, his eyes darting away from yours.

you tilted your head, studying him. “sure doesn’t seem like nothing.” he didn’t respond, just continued eating, though his movements were more tense, less relaxed than they had been before the call. you decided to brush it off, not wanting to push him on it. “alright, whatever you say,” you muttered, turning your attention back to the dishes. but as you moved around the small room, you could feel his eyes on you, a silent tension hanging in the air between you. it was unlike him to be so off, and it left you feeling uneasy, unsure of what was really going on in his head.

for jungkook, however, the moment you mentioned hoseok’s name, something had shifted inside him. it wasn’t jealousy—at least, that’s what he told himself—but rather an uncomfortable tightness in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain. he didn’t like the idea of you with someone else, especially not someone like hoseok, who was always so damn cheerful and easy to get along with. it bugged him more than it should have, the way you smiled while talking to him, the way your voice softened just a little when you mentioned grabbing a drink with him. he tried to shake it off, telling himself it didn’t matter, that it was none of his business who you spent your time with. but the truth was, it did matter. it mattered more than he was willing to admit, even to himself.

as he sat there, pretending to focus on his meal, his mind kept drifting back to the way you had laughed with hoseok, the way your eyes had lit up at the prospect of seeing him again. it gnawed at him, the thought of you with someone else, and he couldn’t understand why. you were just his partner in this twisted game, nothing more. you had each other’s backs, sure, but that was out of necessity, not anything deeper. at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

the heavy thud of your fists against the boxing bag echoed through the training room, the sound rhythmic and intense, almost drowning out the rest of the world. your body moved with precision and power, every punch and jab a release of pent-up frustration. sweat poured down your face, your muscles burned, but you pushed on, driven by something deep inside that wouldn’t let you stop.

your breath came in short, sharp bursts, your knuckles aching as they connected with the leather of the bag. you had been at it for what felt like hours, lost in the rhythm, in the need to keep moving, to keep fighting. it was your way of coping, of trying to find some semblance of control in a world that often felt like it was spinning out of your grasp.

the room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the overhead bulbs that cast a faint glow over the equipment. the air was thick with the smell of sweat and the sound of your fists striking the bag, your grunts of effort the only noise breaking the silence. when you finally stopped, your chest heaving with exertion, you stepped back and wiped the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand. your body ached, but it was a good kind of pain, the kind that made you feel alive, grounded.

you glanced around the empty training room, taking a moment to catch your breath before deciding it was time to call it a night. you made your way to the changing rooms, your footsteps echoing in the quiet space. the changing room was deserted, as you expected at this hour. you peeled off your sweat-soaked clothes, your muscles protesting with every movement, and stepped into the shower. the hot water cascaded over your sore body, washing away the sweat and tension, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to relax, to let the steam envelop you in a cocoon of warmth.

but as you stepped out of the shower, the warm water still clinging to your skin, you froze. standing in the doorway of the changing room was a young man, someone you recognized from the boss’s inner circle. his eyes raked over you with a smirk that made your stomach churn with dread. “what the hell are you doing in here?” you demanded, clutching your towel tightly around your body, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fear that gripped you.

he didn’t respond immediately, just took a step closer, his smirk widening. “i know where i am,” he said casually, his voice dripping with arrogance. you felt a surge of panic, your heart pounding in your chest as he continued to approach you. your feet seemed glued to the spot, your body frozen with fear as he reached out and trailed a finger down your neck, sending a shiver of revulsion through you.

“don’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

his hand moved to the hem of your towel, tugging at it with a cruel smile. “if you’re as smart as you seem,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin, “you’ll stay quiet. it’ll hurt a lot less.” tears welled up in your eyes as you clutched the towel desperately, every fiber of your being screaming at you to move, to fight back, but your body refused to obey. you squeezed your eyes shut, praying for the strength to break free, to do anything to get away from him.

but before you could react, the pressure of his hand on your towel was gone, and there was a sudden, violent crash. you opened your eyes to see jungkook, his face twisted in a rage you had never seen before, slamming the man against the lockers. the sound of metal denting under the force echoed through the room as he delivered punch after punch, each one filled with a fury that left you paralyzed. the man crumpled to the floor, blood trickling from his nose, his smirk long gone, replaced by a look of terror. jungkook didn’t stop until the man was barely conscious, his body limp and defenseless.

when it was over, jungkook turned to you, his chest heaving, his hands still clenched into fists. the anger in his eyes softened as he saw you standing there, trembling and tearful, and he crossed the distance between you in an instant. he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you finally broke down, sobbing against his chest. his hand stroked your wet hair gently, his voice soothing as he whispered, “it’s okay. you’re safe. i’ve got you.” he adjusted your towel, making sure it was securely wrapped around you, before pulling you even closer, his grip on you protective, as if he could shield you from everything in the world that could hurt you.

it took several minutes before your sobs quieted, your breath coming in shaky gasps. when you finally pulled back, jungkook’s eyes were filled with concern, his hands still resting gently on your shoulders. you nodded, still trembling, as you moved to get dressed. your hands were shaky, fumbling with your clothes as you tried to regain some semblance of control. the fear lingered, a cold, unshakable presence that had settled deep in your chest.

he watched you, his gaze never leaving you as you struggled to pull on your clothes. once you were dressed, he grabbed a towel and began drying your hair, his touch gentle, almost tender. the silence between you was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. if anything, it was filled with an unspoken understanding, a connection that had been forged in the heat of the moment.

as he dried your hair, you couldn’t help but feel comforted by his touch, by the way he seemed to know exactly what you needed without you having to say a word. when he was finished, you turned to him, offering him a small, grateful smile. “thank you,” you whispered, your voice still trembling slightly.

he frowned, his jaw tightening. “i should’ve killed him on the spot,” he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. you shook your head quickly, your hand reaching out to touch his arm. “no, you would’ve lost your job,” you said softly, pausing before adding with a weak attempt at a smile, “you wouldn’t get to be my fake boyfriend anymore.” the tension in the room thickened, the words hanging in the air between you. his eyes darkened, his expression serious as he studied your face.

“i don’t think i wanna be your fake boyfriend anymore,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

fear gripped you again, but this time it wasn’t the fear of the man who had just threatened you. it was the fear of losing jungkook, of him being disgusted by what had just happened, or maybe disappointed in you for not fighting back harder. your mind raced, jumping to the worst conclusions. “why?” you asked, your voice barely audible, dreading the answer.

he didn’t respond immediately. instead, he closed the distance between you, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek gently. his touch was warm, comforting, and before you could process what was happening, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. the kiss was soft, tentative at first, as if he was giving you the chance to pull away. but when you didn’t, when you found yourself leaning into him instead, he deepened the kiss, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. every lingering fear, every doubt, seemed to melt away in that moment, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of being held by someone who truly cared.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “i don’t wanna pretend anymore,” he whispered, his voice filled with a raw honesty that made your heart ache. you looked up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was the same vulnerability you felt, the same desire to be something more than just partners in this dangerous game.

you nodded slowly, a small, genuine smile breaking through the fear that had gripped you for so long. “neither do i,” you whispered back. you stood there, your heart still racing from the intensity of what had just happened, but now it was for a different reason. jungkook’s words hung in the air between you, and the warmth of his breath still lingered on your lips, a gentle reminder of the kiss you had just shared. you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and in that moment, you knew there was no going back.

without a word, you leaned in, closing the distance between you once more. this time, when your lips met his, there was no hesitation. the kiss was deeper, more urgent, a reflection of all the emotions that had been building up inside you for so long. you felt his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer, his body pressed against yours in a way that made you feel both grounded and weightless all at once.

as the kiss deepened, a sense of dread that had been gnawing at you all night began to dissipate, replaced by a warmth that spread through your entire being. it was as if every bad thing, every fear, every moment of uncertainty that had plagued you was being washed away in the heat of his embrace. with him, you felt safe, protected, as though nothing else in the world mattered. the training room, the locker room, the man who had just tried to violate you—everything faded into the background until all that was left was jungkook and the way he made you feel.

you lost yourself in the kiss, in the way his lips moved against yours, in the way his hands slid up your back, holding you like you were something precious, something he was afraid to lose. it wasn’t just a kiss; it was a lifeline, something to hold onto in the darkness that surrounded your lives.

but then, he pulled back just slightly, enough to look into your eyes, his breath ragged as he searched your face for any sign of doubt. “are you sure?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. “i don’t want to push you, if it’s too soon.”

you shook your head, cutting him off before he could finish. “it’s not,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the intensity of your feelings. “it’s not too soon, jungkook. i don’t know if we’ll even be alive tomorrow, and i don’t wanna waste another second.”

his eyes darkened with something you couldn’t quite place—desire, fear, something more—but he didn’t hesitate. he closed the distance between you again, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was even hotter, even more consuming than the last. there was a desperation in the way you both kissed, as if you were trying to pour everything you felt into this one moment, as if the world might end at any second and all that would be left was this—this connection, this fire that burned between you.

his hands roamed your body, caressing your back, your sides, his touch sending shivers down your spine. every brush of his fingers, every press of his lips, made you feel more alive than you had in a long time. it was as if all the fear, all the darkness that had been clouding your mind was being driven out by the sheer intensity of what you were sharing with him. you could feel his heart beating against your chest, his breath warm against your skin as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that made you gasp, your hands gripping his shirt, pulling him even closer. the world around you ceased to exist; there was only him and the way he made you feel like you could survive anything as long as he was by your side.

he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he held you close. “i’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “not as long as i’m alive.” you smiled softly, your hands trembling slightly as they caressed his face, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “i believe you,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible, but he heard you. you could see the way his eyes softened, the way his grip on you tightened just a fraction more, as if he was afraid to let go.

his hands began to explore again, sliding down to your waist, then up to your chest. he cupped one of your tits gently, his thumb brushing over the peak of your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. you gasped into his mouth, arching into his touch. the heat between you was palpable, a living, breathing entity that demanded more. he broke the kiss, his eyes never leaving yours as he lowered his head to take your nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing until you were moaning softly. the sensation was too much, a beautiful contrast to the harsh reality that had been your world for so long.

his hand slid down, toying with the string of your sweatpants. you stepped back slightly, allowing him to pull them down, along with your panties, until you were standing before him in nothing but your shirt. he took a moment to look at you, his eyes traveling over your body with a hunger that made you feel exposed and desired all at once. you could feel yourself practically dripping at the sight of him, the anticipation of what was to come making it difficult to stand still. but you could't hold back, not with the foreign, hungry look in his eyes.

your hand trembled as it dropped down to his pants. you could see how hard he was through the soft, grey fabric, but seeing it wasn't enough. you wanted to taste him, to feel him inside you, to make him feel as good as he made you feel. his fingers rubbed at your clit almost too gently, dipping into the sweet wetness as you fumbled with his boxers.

finally, you managed to free his cock, and you couldn't help but stare at it. it was beautiful, thick and veiny, standing proud and ready. jungkook groaned as you wrapped your hand around it, your grip firm but tentative. he leaned back into the chair, eyes closed, as you began to stroke him, your movements growing more confident with each stroke. you wanted to remember every inch of him, every detail, so you could replay it in your mind when you were apart.

his eyes snapped open, locking onto yours again. “ are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and rough with desire. you didn't answer with words. instead, you dropped to your knees and took him into your mouth, your eyes never leaving his. you heard him suck in a sharp breath as you began to suck, taking him deep and swirling your tongue around the tip. you felt empowered, in control, as he squirmed in the chair. your hands cupped his balls, rolling them gently as you took more of him in, your cheeks hollowing with each bob of your head.

his grip tightened in your hair as he began to thrust, fucking your mouth with a gentle force that had you gagging slightly. you didn't care, you liked it rough, liked the way he was claiming you, even if it was just your mouth for now. you felt your pussy clench, desperate for his touch. “fuck, baby,” he murmured, his voice strained, “you're so good at that.”

his praise spurred you on, and you took him deeper, your throat tightening around his cock. you could feel his thighs tense, his body coiling as he approached climax. his hand slid down to your clit, rubbing furiously as you sucked him off, needing your own release to match his. just as you felt the beginnings of your own orgasm, he pulled you up, your mouth slipping off his cock with an obscene pop. “gotta cum inside you,” he said, his voice gruff and urgent.

you nodded, too overwhelmed by desire to speak. he stood, lifting you and pressing your back against the wall, your legs wrapping around his waist. without another word, he slammed into you, the wall rocking with the force of his thrusts. you threw your head back, the cold metal of the wall pressing into your spine as he claimed you, his hips slamming against yours. it was everything you had dreamed of and more, the reality of having him inside you so much better than the fantasy.

you could feel your orgasm building, the tension in your body reaching a crescendo. “yes, fuck, harder,” you moaned, your voice echoing off the walls of the dimly lit room. jungkook complied, his strokes growing more intense, his grip on your hips tightening. his mouth found your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of love bites and hickeys that would be a secret testament to your passionate encounter. the pain only added to your pleasure, making you want him even more.

you came with a scream, your body tightening around him as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. jungkook followed quickly, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his warm cum. you felt him collapse against you, his breath hot and ragged in your ear. for a moment, you just stayed there, his cock still inside you, both of you panting and trying to catch your breath. the reality of what had just happened washed over you, leaving you feeling both satisfied and a little bit scared of the feelings that had been unleashed. but for now, all that mattered was the afterglow, the feeling of his warmth and the sticky evidence of your passion drying on your skin.

you knew that this was just the beginning of a very complicated dance, one that would have consequences that neither of you could predict. but in that moment, all you could do was hold onto him, basking in the feeling of being wanted, of being needed. his mouth found yours again, and the kiss was gentle this time, filled with something deeper than lust. it was a promise, an unspoken vow that you would navigate this dangerous world together, come hell or high water.

the night was quiet, a gentle hum of the city outside the window barely breaking the silence that filled your shared room. you lay beside jungkook, your body clad only in his oversized shirt and a pair of his boxers. his strong arms were wrapped protectively around you, holding you close as if he could shield you from the world with just his embrace. the warmth of his body pressed against yours was comforting, a soothing balm against the chaos of your thoughts. you felt safe there, cocooned in his arms, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t regret a thing.

as you drifted off to sleep, your head nestled against his chest, you felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. it was a reassuring sound, grounding you, reminding you that, at least for tonight, you weren’t alone. the weight of his arm across your waist anchored you, and you let yourself sink into the comfort of the moment, your breathing slowly syncing with his. the world outside, with all its dangers and uncertainties, faded into the background as you let yourself be lulled into a peaceful sleep, the darkness of the room a stark contrast to the warmth you felt in his embrace.

when you woke the next morning, the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. you blinked sleepily, momentarily disoriented, before realizing where you were—still in jungkook’s arms, his grip on you as secure as it had been the night before. you tilted your head slightly to look at him, his features softened in sleep, his usually intense expression relaxed. there was something peaceful about the way he looked, a stark contrast to the hardened exterior he presented to the world.

a tender smile tugged at your lips as you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. he stirred slightly but didn’t wake, his arms tightening around you for just a moment before relaxing again. you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, not wanting to disturb him, and quietly slipped out of bed. as you dressed in your usual training gear, you couldn’t help but glance back at him, still sleeping soundly, and a warmth spread through your chest at the sight. you didn’t know what the day would bring, but at least for now, you felt a sense of contentment that had been absent from your life for far too long.

the training room was nearly deserted when you arrived, the early hour ensuring you were alone. you welcomed the solitude, the chance to clear your mind before the day began in earnest. the familiar sound of your fists connecting with the heavy bag echoed in the otherwise silent room, the repetitive motion calming you, giving you something tangible to focus on.

but as you trained, your mind drifted back to the previous night, to the feel of jungkook’s lips on yours, the way he held you like you were the only thing that mattered. a shiver ran down your spine at the memory, and you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next. would things change between you? would it complicate your already dangerous situation? you shook your head, trying to push those thoughts away. there was no point in worrying about the future when you could barely manage the present.

your focus was broken by the sound of the door to the training room opening. you glanced over your shoulder to see a girl, probably more than a couple definite years younger than you, hesitantly stepping inside. she looked almost out of place there, her small frame and nervous demeanor starkly contrasting with the rough men you usually saw training. her eyes darted around the room, as if she were expecting trouble, and when they landed on the punching bag, she seemed to steel herself.

your heart sank as you watched her approach the bag, her movements awkward and unsure. ahe threw a punch, but it was weak, barely making the bag sway. laughter erupted from a group of men watching her from the corner, their mockery harsh and biting. the girl flinched, her face flushing with embarrassment as she tried again, her fists connecting with the bag in a feeble attempt at self-defense.

you couldn’t just stand by and watch her struggle. something inside you stirred—maybe it was a protective instinct, or maybe it was just the memory of being in her shoes once, but you found yourself walking over to her, ignoring the jeers from the men. as you approached, she looked up at you with wide eyes, surprise evident in her expression.

“you’re holding your stance all wrong,” you said gently, stepping up beside her. she looked at you, her brow furrowing in confusion, but you offered her a reassuring smile. “here, let me show you.”

you placed your hands on her shoulders, adjusting her posture, guiding her to position her feet correctly. she was tense under your touch, her nervousness palpable, but she didn’t pull away. you showed her how to properly throw a punch, how to put her weight behind it, how to channel her strength into each movement. as she tried again, this time with your guidance, the punch was more solid, the bag swaying slightly with the force of it.

“there you go,” you encouraged, stepping back to give her space. she tried again, and this time the punch was even stronger, more confident. the laughter from the men faded as they realized she was improving, and you couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in her determination.

the girl looked up at you, a small, tentative smile on her face, and your heart ached at the sight. she was so young, so innocent in some ways, and yet here she was, trying to survive in a world that would chew her up and spit her out without a second thought. you couldn’t help but wonder how someone like her had ended up in a place like this.

“thank you,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. you nodded, returning her smile. “keep practicing,” you told her, your tone encouraging. “you’ll get the hang of it.” she nodded, her smile growing a little more confident, and you turned to head toward the locker room. but as you reached the door, her voice stopped you in your tracks.

“i never thought i’d find you.”

you froze, your hand hovering over the doorknob. slowly, you turned back to face her, confusion and disbelief warring within you. “what are you talking about?” you asked, your voice shaky, uncertain.

she took a hesitant step toward you, her eyes wide with something you couldn’t quite place—hope, maybe? “mom and dad, they told me i had a sister. but i never got to see what kind of life you had.”

the world tilted on its axis, and you felt as if the ground had just been ripped out from under you. a sister? you had a sister? your mind raced, trying to make sense of her words, but it was as if your thoughts were stuck in quicksand, the more you tried to grasp them, the more they slipped away. you had never known you had a sister—let alone one who had been raised in this underground world.

you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even realize your hand had slipped off the doorknob until you heard the sound of glass shattering. you looked down in a daze, seeing the shards of the glass you had dropped scattered across the floor. but the glass wasn’t what held your attention—it was the way your hands were trembling, the way your heart was racing in your chest, the sheer disbelief and confusion that had taken hold of you.

the girl took another step closer, her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and fear. “(y/n) (l/n),” she said quietly, and your heart dropped into your stomach. you sank to your knees, the weight of her words pressing down on you, leaving you breathless.

she was your sister. she had to be. there was no other explanation for the way your name had fallen from her lips, no other reason why she would be looking at you with such hope, such familiarity. but it didn’t make sense—it couldn’t make sense. you had been alone your whole life, always fighting to survive, never knowing you had someone out there, someone who was a part of you. you didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process what you were feeling. all you could do was look at her, at the beautiful, young girl standing before you, at the innocence that had been so clearly marred by the darkness of this world. she looked at you with tears in her eyes, but instead of speaking, she closed the distance between you and pulled you into a hug.

the warmth of her embrace was foreign, yet strangely comforting. you felt the tears begin to blur your vision as she held you, her grip tight as if she was afraid to let go. you wanted to speak, to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. all you could do was hold onto her, the weight of this revelation pressing down on you, threatening to crush you.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking as the tears streamed down your face. “i’m so sorry.” she didn’t say anything, just held you tighter, her own tears soaking into your shirt. you could feel the raw emotion in her touch, the desperation, the need for connection that mirrored your own. it was overwhelming, this sudden discovery of a sister you never knew you had, this realization that you weren’t as alone in the world as you had always believed.

the days that followed your discovery were a whirlwind of emotions, each one more intense than the last. it felt surreal to wake up every morning knowing that the girl who had stumbled into your life was your sister, that the person you had unknowingly searched for all these years had been right under your nose, confined to the same underground world that you had infiltrated. eunha, she called herself—her real name, a name that felt strange on your tongue, yet familiar in a way you couldn’t quite explain. there was something about her presence that felt like home, like a piece of you that had been missing was finally found.

the first few days were spent mostly in the training room, away from prying eyes. you found yourself drawn to her, spending every free moment getting to know her, piecing together the fragments of a life you had never known existed.

“i’ve never seen the outside world,” she confessed one day, her voice tinged with a sadness that made your heart ache. the two of you sat side by side on the floor of the training room, your backs against the wall, your shoulders almost touching. she was picking at the frayed edge of her worn-out shoes, her eyes downcast, as if ashamed to admit such a thing. “i’ve only heard about it, in stories, from people who come and go. but i’ve never been out there.”

the weight of her words hit you like a punch to the gut. you had always taken the outside world for granted—the sun, the sky, the fresh air, all the little things that made life worth living. to think that your sister had been deprived of all that, trapped in this suffocating underground existence, filled you with a deep sense of regret.

“they kept me here,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly. “mom and dad, they said it was for my safety, that the outside world was too dangerous, that people like us. we wouldn’t survive out there. i believed them because i didn’t know any better. i grew up knowing only this place, these people, and the stories of a sister i thought i’d never meet.”

her words wrapped around your heart, squeezing it with a pain you hadn’t expected. you had always known your parents were involved in something dark, but to think that they had kept her here, isolated, fed her lies about the world beyond these walls. it made your blood boil. “eunha,” you began, your voice thick with emotion, but she shook her head, cutting you off.

“i go by eunha here, but it’s not just a name,” she said, looking up at you with those wide, innocent eyes that held a world of pain behind them. “it’s who i am in this place. it’s all i’ve ever known. but now that i’ve met you, i don’t know who i’m supposed to be anymore.”

you reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “you don’t have to be anyone but yourself,” you told her gently. “we’ll figure it out together.” there was a moment of silence between you, the weight of her words settling over you both like a heavy blanket. she seemed to gather herself before speaking again, her tone more resolved, though still tinged with uncertainty.

“and you, who are you?” she asked, her gaze searching yours. “i mean, i know you’re my sister, but you’re different from everyone else here. you don’t belong here, do you?”

you sighed, knowing you couldn’t lie to her. not now. “i’m undercover,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “my real name isn’t lee rachel. i’m a cop, eunha. i’m here to take this place down from the inside.” her eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, you feared she might recoil from you, that she might see you as the enemy. but instead, she looked at you with something like awe, mixed with a hint of fear.

“a cop,” she repeated, as if trying to wrap her mind around it. “so everything, everything you’ve been doing here,”

“is to gather information,” you confirmed. “to find a way to shut this place down for good. but i never imagined i’d find you here, eunha. i never knew—god, i never knew.” she was silent for a long moment, absorbing everything you’d told her. then, to your surprise, she leaned in, resting her head on your shoulder. “i’m glad it’s you,” she murmured, her voice soft but steady. “i’m glad i found you.”

you felt a lump form in your throat, and you swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. “i’m glad i found you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. for the first time in years, you felt a bond, a connection, that went beyond anything you’d ever known. eunha was your sister, your blood, and you felt a fierce need to protect her, to make up for all the lost time, to somehow give her the life she had been denied.

“i won’t tell anyone,” she promised, her voice firm, her eyes shining with determination. “i won’t say a word about who you really are. you can trust me, (y/n).”

“i know,” you said, giving her a small, grateful smile. “i trust you.”

in the days that followed, you introduced her to jungkook. his initial reaction was one of shock, his dark eyes widening as he processed the news. “you have a sister?” he had asked, his voice a mix of surprise and disbelief. “how, how did you not know?”

“it’s a long story,” you had replied, glancing at eunha, who stood quietly by your side. “but she’s here now, and that’s what matters.” jungkook’s gaze had shifted to her, studying her with a mixture of curiosity and caution. you could see the wheels turning in his head, the way he was trying to assess whether she could be trusted, whether she posed a threat to your mission. he was protective, not just of you, but of the operation, and you couldn’t blame him for being wary.

but eunha, in her gentle way, had slowly begun to win him over. it wasn’t easy—jungkook was naturally suspicious of anyone new, especially someone with ties to the underground world. but she was persistent, always polite, always kind, and over time, you could see the way his defenses began to crumble.

one evening, as the three of you sat together in the small kitchen of your shared hideout, eunha had looked at jungkook with a mischievous glint in her eye. “you know,” she had said, her tone light, “i’ve never had a brother-in-law before.”

jungkook had nearly choked on his drink, his eyes going wide with surprise. “brother-in-law?” he had repeated, his voice incredulous. she had nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “you’re with my sister, right? that makes you my brother-in-law.”

you had watched as jungkook’s expression softened, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. it was a simple statement, but it meant more than eunha could have known. it was an acceptance, a sign that she was beginning to find her place in your strange little family. jungkook had looked at you then, and the warmth in his gaze had made your heart skip a beat. “brother-in-law, huh?” he had said, his voice teasing. “i could get used to that.”

you had smiled back at him, feeling a swell of emotion in your chest. in that moment, you realized just how much had changed since eunha had come into your life. you weren’t alone anymore, and neither was she. you had each other, and now you had jungkook too. as the days passed, the three of you grew closer, your little makeshift family becoming something solid, something real. there were still challenges ahead, still dangers lurking around every corner, but for the first time, you felt like you could face them together. you had found your sister, and in doing so, you had found a piece of yourself that you hadn’t even known was missing.

and as you sat with eunha one night, listening to her talk about her dreams of seeing the outside world, of finally living the life she had always imagined, you knew that you would do whatever it took to make that dream a reality. you would protect her, you would keep her safe, and you would ensure that she never had to face the darkness of this world alone. because she was your sister, and you were hers. and nothing, not even the shadows that threatened to engulf you both, could ever change that.

the day of the annual dinner arrived far too quickly for your liking. the boss had called everyone in, demanding a full attendance for a formal gathering that evening, and you knew there was no way to avoid it. the fact that you had to keep eunha’s true identity a secret gnawed at you relentlessly, eating away at your resolve. you had only just found her, only just begun to know her, and already, you were forced to hide the bond that connected you. It felt wrong—like a betrayal of everything you wanted to protect. but your cover had to be maintained, even if it meant stifling the fierce protective instinct that had risen within you.

as you stood in front of the mirror, your mind was heavy with the weight of the secrets you bore. you were clad in an elegant, form-fitting dress that clung to your curves in all the right places, the deep shade of midnight blue contrasting beautifully against your skin. the dress was more formal than your usual attire, a clear reminder of the precarious balance you walked between two worlds. your hands trembled slightly as you adjusted the straps, trying to push aside the unease that churned in your stomach.

jungkook stood beside you, his reflection in the mirror providing a momentary distraction from the storm of thoughts in your head. he looked impeccable in his tailored black suit, the lines sharp and precise, exuding an air of authority and confidence that only he could pull off with such effortless grace. his dark hair was slicked back, highlighting the strong angles of his face, and his eyes were locked on you, an appreciative smile playing on his lips.

“absolutely stunning,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with admiration. his eyes roamed over you, taking in every detail, and you felt a blush creep up your neck, warming your cheeks. you managed a small smile, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “you’re just saying that because you have to,” you teased, though the way he looked at you made your heart flutter in a way that no words could adequately describe.

“not even close,” he replied, stepping closer, his hand coming to rest on your waist. he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “you’re breathtaking, (y/n).”

before you could respond, there was a soft knock on the door, and you turned to see eunha standing in the doorway, her wide eyes filled with awe. she looked so innocent, so untouched by the world’s cruelty, and the sight made your heart twist painfully. she was dressed in an adorable white dress, the fabric flowing around her like a cloud, making her look even more ethereal than she already was. the dress was simple, but it suited her perfectly, highlighting her natural beauty in a way that made your breath catch.

“you look gorgeous,” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them. it was true—she was beautiful, radiating a kind of purity that you hadn’t seen in so long, not in a place like this. eunha’s cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, and she gave you a shy smile, her fingers twisting together nervously. “i was gonnq say the same about you,” she admitted, her voice soft, almost hesitant, as if she were afraid to speak the words aloud.

you couldn’t help but smile, feeling a rush of affection for the girl standing before you. she was still so young, so untainted by the darkness that surrounded you both. she had been kept hidden away for so long, but now that she was here, you wanted to protect that innocence, to keep her safe from the harsh realities of the world she had been thrust into.

“come here,” you said, holding out your hand to her. she hesitated for a moment before stepping into the room, her small hand slipping into yours. you pulled her into a gentle hug, feeling the warmth of her body against yours, and the sensation filled you with a fierce determination to keep her safe, no matter what.

“would you like me to do your makeup?” you asked, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes. the question was light, almost playful, and you watched as her face lit up with excitement, her eyes sparkling with a joy that made your heart churn. “really?” she asked, her voice filled with a mixture of hope and disbelief, as if she couldn’t quite believe that you were offering her something so simple, yet so meaningful.

“of course,” you said with a smile. “you’re beautiful as you are, but a little makeup might make you feel even more special.” eunha nodded eagerly, and you guided her to sit at the small vanity in the corner of the room. as you began to carefully apply the makeup, you kept it simple—just a touch of concealer to even out her skin tone, a light dusting of blush to bring out the natural flush in her cheeks, and a hint of mascara to define her long lashes. you didn’t want to overwhelm her, but you could see the way her eyes shone with happiness as you worked, the way she held herself a little taller, a little more confident.

when you were finished, you stepped back to admire your work, and you felt a surge of pride as you looked at her. she was stunning, and not just because of the makeup—she had a natural beauty that radiated from within, a light that hadn’t been dimmed despite everything she had been through. “you look even prettier than me,” you told her, your voice filled with genuine admiration.

she blushed again, but there was a glow in her eyes, a happiness that you knew was rare in this place. “thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. “i’ve never felt like this before.” you leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “you deserve to feel beautiful,” you said softly. “because you are.”

she gave you a shy smile before she excused herself, her steps light as she left the room. you watched her go, your heart swelling with affection and a fierce protectiveness that you hadn’t felt in a long time. as the door closed behind her, you turned back to jungkook, who had been watching the entire exchange with a soft smile on his lips. there was something in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat, a warmth and tenderness that made you feel as though you were the only person in the world.

“you’re gonna be an amazing mom one day,” he said, his voice low and filled with a kind of quiet certainty that made your breath catch in your throat. the words hit you like a gentle wave, washing over you with a warmth that made your chest tighten with emotion. you hadn’t thought about it much before, about what the future might hold for you and jungkook, but hearing him say those words, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, made something inside you click into place.

you stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you looked up at him, your eyes searching his for any hint of doubt. “is that a promise?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. he didn’t hesitate, his hands coming to rest on your waist as he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. when he pulled back, his eyes were filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter. “it just might be,” he murmured, his voice filled with a kind of quiet promise that made you believe, for the first time in a long time, that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

the dining room was dimly lit, the heavy wooden table stretching out before you like a dark, endless expanse. thirteen chairs were arranged around it, and each one was filled with a familiar face. eunha sat to your right, her hands folded neatly in her lap, a serene expression on her face that did nothing to betray the turmoil you knew she had endured. jungkook was on your left, his presence a steady anchor in the chaos that surrounded you. across from you sat the boss, his cold, calculating eyes surveying the room with the indifference of a man who had seen far too much, done far too much, to be moved by anything.

to your horror, the man who had tried to violate you was seated just a few spots down the table, his gaze fixed firmly on the plate in front of him, as if avoiding eye contact with you could somehow erase the memory of what he had done. the mere sight of him made your skin crawl, a visceral reminder of the danger that lurked within these walls.

you felt jungkook’s hand slip beneath the tablecloth, seeking yours. his fingers found yours, intertwining with a warmth that steadied your nerves. he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, a silent message that he was with you, that he would protect you. you squeezed back, grateful for his strength, for the way he could calm the storm inside you with just a touch.

the clinking of silverware ceased as the boss cleared his throat, drawing the room’s attention. the silence that followed was suffocating, heavy with anticipation. he leaned forward slightly, his sharp eyes settling on jungkook. “i heard there was a mishap in the locker room earlier,” he began, his voice deceptively calm. there was a pause as his gaze bore into jungkook, the tension thickening in the air. “where do you get off beating my men?”

the question hung in the air, cold and accusatory, and your heart skipped a beat. jungkook’s hand tightened around yours, but his expression remained composed. he met the boss’s gaze head-on, unflinching. “i wouldn’t have done it,” he began, his voice steady, “if i hadn’t caught him trying to assault her.” he didn’t need to specify who “her” was—everyone knew. his words hung in the air like a sharp blade, slicing through the tension.

jungkook turned his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as they fixed on the man who had hurt you. the man cowered, his head bowed in shame, his entire body trembling. he was a coward, stripped of his bravado in the face of the truth. your heart pounded in your chest as the memory of that day flashed before your eyes. you felt jungkook’s thumb stroke the back of your hand, a small, comforting gesture that helped keep your fear at bay. but there was no comfort to be found in the boss’s cold, calculating gaze as he turned his attention to the man in question.

“is that so?” the boss asked, his voice chillingly even. the man didn’t answer. he couldn’t. his silence spoke volumes, a silent admission of guilt that echoed in the stillness of the room.

the boss sighed, a sound that was more weary than anything else. then, in one fluid motion, he reached beneath his jacket and pulled out a pistol. the sound of the safety clicking off was deafening in the silence, and before anyone could react, he raised the gun and fired. the bullet struck the man square in the forehead, the crack of the gunshot reverberating through the room like a thunderclap. blood sprayed against the wall behind him as his body slumped forward onto the table, lifeless. and then, there were twelve.

you gasped, the air leaving your lungs in a rush as the reality of what had just happened hit you. the room was suddenly too quiet, the silence suffocating. the shock rippled through you like a cold wave, numbing your senses, freezing you in place. you turned to look at jungkook, and the sheer horror in his eyes mirrored your own. the two of you were caught in a shared nightmare, one that you couldn’t wake up from, no matter how much you wanted to.

the boss calmly holstered his gun, as if he had just dealt with a minor inconvenience rather than taken a life. “why didn’t you just say so?” he asked, his tone almost conversational, as if the murder that had just taken place was nothing more than a routine matter.

you were mortified, but what terrified you even more was the lack of reaction from eunha. she hadn’t flinched, hadn’t gasped, hadn’t even blinked. her face was a mask of emotionless calm, as if she had witnessed this kind of thing a hundred times before and it no longer fazed her. it was a stark contrast to the horror you and jungkook felt, and it sent a chill down your spine. how much had she seen? how much had she endured to become so numb?

the boss nodded to eunha, and without hesitation, she stood and began to pass around twelve wine glasses, moving with a practiced grace that belied her youth. she placed a glass in front of each person, her movements smooth and precise, her expression serene, as if she were simply going through the motions of a task she had performed countless times before. as she reached you, you couldn’t help but notice the way her hands didn’t tremble, the way her eyes remained dull, devoid of any real emotion. she was a ghost of the girl she should have been, and the realization made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t expected. how had she survived in this world for so long, and how had it changed her? she then passed around a basket of bread, followed by a bottle of wine, filling each glass with a measured amount. when she was done, she returned to her seat, her face as impassive as ever.

the boss raised his glass, and the rest of you followed suit, though your hands felt heavy as lead, your movements mechanical. “tomorrow night,” he began, “there will be a heist. it’s a big one, and there’s a good chance it’ll end in a shootout with a rival gang. i need all of you at your best, focused, and ready to do whatever it takes to come out on top.”

you listened to his words, but your mind was elsewhere, trapped in the image of the man’s lifeless body slumped over the table, the blood still dripping onto the floor. this was the world you were in now, a world where life was cheap, and death was just another part of the business. you didn’t need to say anything to jungkook; the look you shared was enough. this was a warning, a grim reminder of the stakes you were playing with, that there was no turning back.

the next day dawned slowly, the pale light of morning seeping through the cracks in the heavy curtains like a hesitant promise. you awoke in jungkook’s arms, his warmth a comforting presence beside you. the memories of the previous night clung to your thoughts like a dark fog, but as you lay there in the quiet of the morning, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, you felt a small, flickering spark of hope. he was here. you weren’t alone.

he stirred beside you, his eyes fluttering open as he sensed your wakefulness. he gave you a sleepy smile, the kind that always seemed to reach the very corners of his eyes, and you felt a faint tug at your heart. it was incredible how he could make you feel safe, even when the world around you seemed to be falling apart. “morning,” he murmured, his voice still husky from sleep. he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle. “how are you feeling?”

you hesitated, the question hanging in the air between you. how were you supposed to feel? the image of the man’s lifeless body from last night still haunted your thoughts, a gruesome reminder of the world you were trapped in. but when you looked into jungkook’s eyes, you saw something else—strength, determination, and a flicker of hope that had been missing for too long. “i’m okay,” you finally replied, your voice quiet but steady. “i’m just trying to wrap my head around everything.”

he nodded, understanding in his gaze. “i know it’s a lot,” he said softly, “but try to look on the bright side. you have me, and you have eunha. tonight, it’ll all be over, and we can get out of this mess for good.” he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. the feeling of his chest rising and falling beneath you, the steady beat of his heart, it grounded you. it reminded you of what you were fighting for. this wasn’t just about taking down a criminal organization; it was about securing a future for you, for jungkook, and for eunha. a future where she could be free, where you could show her the world beyond these dark walls.

“i can’t wait to show her the outside world,” you whispered, your thoughts drifting to your sister. “she’s been trapped here for so long, she deserves to see everything she’s missed.” jungkook’s hand found yours, squeezing it gently. “she will,” he promised, his voice full of conviction. “we’ll show her everything. qnd we’ll do it together.”

the day stretched out before you, a long, quiet expanse of time that felt strangely calm. jungkook stayed by your side, his presence a constant source of reassurance. he made sure you ate, even though your appetite was nearly nonexistent, and he kept the conversation light, steering you away from the darker thoughts that threatened to consume you.

you spent hours talking about the future, about the life you could build once this was all over. jungkook painted pictures of a life filled with simple joys—waking up to the sound of birds outside your window, spending lazy afternoons exploring the city with eunha, and quiet evenings curled up on the couch with him, watching movies or just talking about your day. it was a dream, but it was one you clung to with all your might, letting it fuel the fire that kept you going.

as the day wore on, the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the room. you found yourself staring out the window, watching as the light slowly faded, the promise of nightfall inching closer. tonight was the night. the thought sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of anticipation and fear knotting in your stomach.

jungkook noticed, his hand finding yours once again. “hey,” he said softly, his voice a gentle anchor in the sea of your turbulent thoughts. “we’ve got this. we’ll all be in the same spot, and the rest of our team will be there to cover our backs. just a few more hours, and then, we’re free.” you nodded, trying to absorb the confidence in his words, to let it steady your nerves. the idea of freedom, of living a life with him, it was almost too much to hope for. but it was all you had, and you weren’t about to let go of it.

“i’m just worried,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “what if something goes wrong?” jungkook cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. “nothing’s gonna go wrong,” he said firmly. “we’ve planned for this, we’ve trained for this, and we’re ready. you’re ready.”

his words were like a lifeline, something to hold onto as you navigated the treacherous waters ahead. you took a deep breath, nodding slowly. “okay,” you murmured, leaning into his touch. “i trust you.” a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “good,” he said, his voice softening. “because i trust you too. and after tonight, we’ll finally have the life we’ve been dreaming of.” you spent the rest of the afternoon in a sort of quiet companionship, the two of you moving through the motions of the day as if in a trance. there was an unspoken understanding between you—a shared sense of purpose that kept you both grounded, even as the weight of what was to come pressed down on you.

the night had a suffocating air, thick with tension that clung to every breath you took. the warehouse where the showdown was set to occur loomed ahead like a dark, foreboding fortress, its looming shadows melding into the blackness of the night. dim light spilled through the cracks in the metal walls, casting eerie shapes on the ground. the gravel crunched beneath your boots as you approached, the sound barely audible over the distant hum of the city that was unaware of the impending bloodshed.

jungkook was at your side, his presence a mixture of comfort and concern. he walked with a tense calm, his hand subtly brushing against yours with every step. his gaze darted around, always vigilant, yet there was a softness in his eyes when they settled on you. “tonight’s the night,” he whispered, more to himself than to you. “we’ll get through this, and after that, we’ll be free. you, me, and eunha. we’ll show her the world.”

his words were meant to reassure, but you couldn’t shake the weight pressing down on your chest. the future he painted sounded like a dream—one that you so desperately wanted to hold onto, but the reality of the night made it feel like it was slipping through your fingers. you glanced up at him, your thoughts heavy with the unspoken fears that swirled in your mind. “jungkook,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “if we don't make it out—”

but he cut you off, his tone firm, almost commanding. “we will make it out.” he stopped walking and turned to face you, his hand gently gripping your arm. there was a fire in his eyes, one that burned with determination. “but i love you more. more than anything else in this world.”

before you could respond, the sudden, sharp sound of gunfire shattered the silence. the air erupted with chaos—screams, the sound of bullets tearing through the night, the desperate shouts of men fighting for survival. the world around you became a blur of movement and noise, the lines between friend and foe blurring in the chaos.

jungkook moved with swift precision, his gun raised as he shot at the figures that darted through the shadows. you followed close behind, your heart pounding in your chest. every sense was heightened, every movement critical as you ducked and weaved through the barrage of bullets.

out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure move toward you with a gun aimed directly at your head. time slowed for a split second, and your breath caught in your throat. but before you could react, a deafening shot rang out, and the man crumpled to the ground, lifeless. you turned to see jungkook, his gun still smoking, his eyes wide with the intensity of the moment. “thank you,” you managed to say, your voice trembling with relief and gratitude. he nodded, a brief smile flickering across his lips before he motioned for you to move. the two of you ducked behind a stack of crates, your backs pressed against the cold metal as you caught your breath.

just then, out of the smoke and chaos, a small figure came running toward you—eunha. her eyes were wide with fear, her small frame trembling as she reached you. the sight of her sent a jolt of panic through your veins. “eunha,” you hissed, pulling her close. “what are you doing here? it's not safe, you have to go.”

but her eyes were filled with tears, and she shook her head violently. “no, you have to go. please, you have to leave now.” the urgency in her voice was unlike anything you'd ever heard before. "what? why?" your mind raced with confusion and fear, trying to make sense of her words.

through her sobs, eunha’s voice cracked as she confessed, “i told the boss about you. i didn’t mean to—i was excited about seeing you, and it slipped. i was afraid, i didn’t know what to do, and i told him everything. you have to leave before he gets to you.”

the betrayal hit you like a punch to the gut, the shock so overwhelming that it took you a moment to process what she was saying. you felt jungkook stiffen beside you, the disbelief and hurt clear in his eyes. but there was no time to dwell on it—sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder with each passing second, signaling the arrival of the authorities.

“stay here,” you told her, your voice a mix of urgency and fear. you peered around the crates to see a swarm of officers descending upon the scene, led by hoseok. relief flooded through you despite the chaos; the sight of him meant that the nightmare might finally end. jungkook's grip on your hand tightened as he offered you a strained smile. the disbelief and betrayal were still evident in his eyes, but there was also a flicker of hope. “it’s almost over,” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

the rival members, realizing they were outmatched, began to scatter. the officers moved in, detaining anyone they could get their hands on. in the midst of it all, you saw the boss—your boss—being dragged away by hoseok, thrashing against his grip. but then, something changed. the boss’s eyes found yours, locking onto you with a look so dark, so filled with malevolence, that it made your blood run cold.

before you could react, he pushed hoseok off with a sudden burst of strength, grabbing the officer’s gun in one swift motion. the gunshot rang out, splitting the air with a deafening crack. your heart stopped, and for a moment, time stood still. but the pain never came. you looked down at yourself in disbelief—no blood, no wound. then you saw her.

eunha stood beside you, her eyes wide with shock and pain as blood bloomed across her chest like a crimson flower. the world crashed down around you as she dropped to the ground, the life draining from her eyes even before her body hit the earth.

“no!” the scream tore from your throat as you dropped to your knees beside her, jungkook following suit, his own voice choked with horror. you grabbed eunha’s hand, feeling the warmth slipping away as she struggled to breathe. “hold on,” you pleaded, your voice breaking. “help is here, just hold on.”

but all she could do was smile through the pain, her grip on your hands weakening with each passing second. “i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, a tear slipping down her cheek.

her eyes fluttered as she forced out her final words, her voice a fragile whisper that broke your heart into pieces. “thank you, for showing me the outside world.” and then her hand went limp, her eyes closed, and the world went black. the moment her hand fell limp, a visceral, gut-wrenching scream tore from your throat, echoing through the warehouse with a sound of raw, unbridled grief. the world around you seemed to collapse into a nightmarish haze of flashing lights and distant voices. jungkook’s face, though painted with his own shock and horror, was the only constant in this maelstrom.

you crumpled beside her lifeless form, your fingers still clutching her cold, bloodstained hand. the world blurred into a mix of red and black as your vision swam with tears. the sirens, once a distant wail of hope, now sounded like the cruel harbingers of your loss. wach breath you took was ragged, tearing at your chest with an intensity that felt like it would rip you apart from the inside out.

jungkook wrapped his arms around you, his hold both firm and tender as he tried to pull you away from the scene. his own sobs were muffled against your shoulder, his voice a low, desperate murmur in your ear. “don’t look,” he choked out, his words straining to break through the tears. “please, don’t look.”

but you couldn’t stop. you couldn’t look away from eunha’s body being gently lifted onto a stretcher, the cold, clinical efficiency of the officers contrasting brutally with the warmth and life that had been snuffed out so cruelly. your sobs grew louder, mingling with jungkook’s as the reality of the situation sank in. you thrashed in his arms, your body wracked with grief, your mind screaming in denial and pain.

hoseok, his face a mask of concern and sympathy, rushed to your side. his presence was a small comfort amidst the chaos, but his words felt hollow against the backdrop of your overwhelming anguish. “it’s okay,” he said, trying to soothe you with a voice full of empathy. “it’s all over. it’s gonna be alright.”

but it wasn’t okay. it wasn’t over. the weight of loss was crushing, and no amount of reassurances could lift it from your heart. you continued to sob, your body shaking uncontrollably as jungkook held you close, his own tears soaking into your hair. the world outside seemed to fall away, leaving only the sharp, searing pain of your sister’s death.

the following days were a blur of darkness and sorrow. the funeral was a solemn, heart-wrenching affair, and every moment felt like an eternity of raw, unhealed wounds. jungkook was your steadfast support, his quiet strength a fragile anchor in the storm of your grief.

on the day of eunha’s memorial, the sky was a somber gray, matching the heaviness that settled over you. jungkook walked with you to the cemetery, his presence a balm for your shattered spirit. he, too, felt as if he had lost a child of his own. the cemetery was a quiet, serene place, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had consumed your life. the graves were marked with simple stones and surrounded by patches of manicured grass.

when you reached her grave, jungkook carefully set down a bouquet of fresh, vibrant flowers. his tears flowed freely, mingling with the rain that had begun to fall softly from the sky. he stood beside you, his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders as he kissed your forehead. his touch was gentle, but it held a depth of emotion that spoke of his own suffering and solidarity with your pain.

you knelt beside the grave, your heart aching as you stared at the photograph of eunha framed by the flowers. the sadness that had been your constant companion now seemed to reach a new, unbearable depth. you reached into your pocket and pulled out the medal you had won for the infiltration—the symbol of a world that had taken so much from you.

with trembling hands, you placed the medal beside eunha’s photograph. it felt like a cruel irony—a symbol of your accomplishments in a world that had ultimately failed to protect her. you whispered a final goodbye, tears streaming down your face as you wished her peace in a place far removed from the cruelty of the underground. jungkook watched you with a profound sadness in his eyes. his own tears were a testament to the love and loss he felt for eunha, and the comfort he tried to offer you was an echo of the pain that mirrored your own. he held you close, the warmth of his embrace a small solace in the bitter chill of your grief.

as you stood together, gazing at the grave, you found some small measure of comfort in the thought that eunha was now in a place far better than the harsh world she had known. her spirit was free from the shadows that had plagued her life, and the hope that she was exploring something far more beautiful than the outside world, gave you a tiny glimmer of solace in the midst of your overwhelming sorrow.

✧.*

a/n: lowkey my name except pildo survives

teotw (세상의 끝) — jeon jungkook (전정국)

✧.* 18+

when the world ended, it wasn’t with the thunderous roar of wars or the blinding light of an angry sun; it was with a whisper—a collective sigh of resignation that echoed across the hollowed bones of cities, once vibrant and teeming with life. the sky, once a canvas of blues and radiant golds, faded into an endless stretch of ashen gray, swallowing the horizon in a blanket of melancholy. nature, sensing the final breath of humanity, ceased its symphony. the winds grew still, no longer carrying the songs of birds or the rustle of leaves but instead murmuring secrets of the past, stories of a world that had forgotten how to live.

the oceans, once wild and untamed, receded in quiet mourning, their waves lapping at the shores like a lover’s farewell, leaving behind only the memories of their once-mighty tides. the forests, now shadows of their former selves, stood like silent sentinels, their branches brittle and bare, reaching out as if to grasp the last remnants of a fading existence. the air was thick with the scent of decay, not of flesh, but of dreams, hopes, and the indomitable spirit that once drove humanity forward.

cities, grand monuments to human achievement, crumbled under the weight of their own hubris. skyscrapers, once towering symbols of progress, lay twisted and broken, their glassy facades shattered, reflecting a sky that no longer held any promise. streets, once alive with the pulse of civilization, were now abandoned corridors of desolation, where the ghosts of the past wandered aimlessly, searching for a future that would never come.

and in that silence—that all-encompassing stillness—there was no one left to mourn, no voices to cry out in anguish, no souls to seek redemption. the world had ended not with a bang, but with the quiet acceptance of inevitability, a final chapter in a story that had been written long ago. all that remained was the echo of what once was, a faint, lingering trace of a world that had, for a time, dared to believe in tomorrow.

when the world ended, it wasn’t the end at all, but the beginning of an eternal quiet, where the whispers of a forgotten age danced on the winds of oblivion, carrying with them the tales of a time when the world was full of light, love, and the promise of forever. when the world ended, you didn't even know of it. you didn't know of the wreckage, the losses, the cries of anguish.

when you awoke, it wasn’t to the soft hum of machinery or the gentle murmurs of nurses tending to their patients. it wasn’t to the warmth of sunlight filtering through thin hospital curtains or the comforting sound of your sister’s voice, softly reading you a book you couldn’t remember the title of. no, you awoke to a silence so profound, so unnatural, that it wrapped around you like a suffocating shroud. your eyes fluttered open, heavy with the weight of a month-long sleep, and for a moment, you wondered if you had woken up at all or if this was some dark, twisted dream.

the room around you was eerily still, the once-familiar beep of the heart monitor conspicuously absent. the sterile scent of disinfectant was replaced by an unfamiliar, almost metallic tang that clung to the back of your throat. you blinked, trying to clear the fog from your mind, but the darkness lingered, oppressive and unforgiving. you called out, your voice hoarse and cracked from disuse, a weak “hello?” that barely reached the corners of the room. there was no answer, not from the doctors, not from the nurses, not from anyone. panic fluttered in your chest, but you pushed it down, forcing yourself to sit up, your muscles protesting with a sharp ache that radiated through your entire body.

you moved slowly, every motion a battle against the weakness that threatened to pull you back into unconsciousness. swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you hesitated, the cold tile floor unwelcoming beneath your bare feet. you stood on shaky legs, the room tilting dangerously as you clutched at the bed’s railing for support. you had to find someone—anyone. the halls were your next goal, just outside the room. there, you told yourself, there would be answers.

but the hallway, once loud with activity, was a void of darkness and silence. you reached for the light switch by the door, but nothing happened. your breath quickened as you stepped out into the corridor, your eyes struggling to adjust to the dim light that seemed to seep in from somewhere far, far away. the air was thick, heavy with a sense of abandonment that made your skin crawl. you began to walk, each step echoing off the walls, the sound unnervingly loud in the stillness. you peeked into the rooms as you passed, expecting to find patients sleeping soundly or perhaps a nurse bustling about. but every room was empty, the beds made, equipment untouched, as if everyone had simply vanished.

it was as though time had frozen, leaving you the only soul moving through this ghostly space. the deeper you went into the hospital, the more your unease grew. the halls, once so familiar, now felt like a labyrinth designed to ensnare you in its endless emptiness. and then you saw it.

the exit doors loomed ahead, their glass panes reflecting the faint, gray light from outside. but it wasn’t the light that caught your attention. it was the words scrawled across the doors, crude and unsettling, in a dried crimson that made your stomach turn. “may god help us all,” the letters cried out, jagged and desperate. your hands trembled as you reached out to touch the glass, feeling the dried substance beneath your fingertips. it was real—too real.

with your heart pounding against your ribs, you pushed through the doors, bracing yourself for the world outside. but nothing could have prepared you for what awaited. the street, once teeming with life, was desolate, a graveyard of twisted metal and charred remnants. no cars drove by, no people walked the sidewalks. there was only the ghostly silence of a world long forgotten. ash rained from the sky, mixing with the smoke that billowed from what remained of the trees, their once-green leaves reduced to smoldering embers. buildings, or what was left of them, leaned precariously, their foundations crumbled into dust. the sky, an ominous shade of gray, pressed down on you, darker and more foreboding than you could ever remember.

the realization hit you like a physical blow, stealing the breath from your lungs. you were alone. truly, terrifyingly alone. the world you had known was gone, erased in an instant while you had been locked in the oblivion of your own mind. panic surged, rising like bile in your throat as you stumbled back, desperate to find something—anything—that could explain what had happened. but there was nothing. only the ruins of a world that had ended while you slept.

your legs gave out beneath you, and you crumpled to the ground, your hands clutching at the broken earth as your heart raced uncontrollably. tears blurred your vision as your mind struggled to comprehend the enormity of it all, the finality. what had happened? how could everything just end? the questions spun in your mind, but there were no answers, only the overwhelming silence of a world that no longer cared.

you stood there, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the realization settled in, heavier than the thick air that clung to you. your mind was a tangled mess, struggling to find a thread of logic in the chaos that surrounded you. what had happened? how could everything you knew—everything you loved—disappear so completely? you tried to piece it together, tried to remember anything that might explain the desolation, but your thoughts were sluggish, weighed down by the lingering haze of your coma. the dull throb in your head reminded you of how desperately you could’ve killed for an advil, but there was no time for that. there was nothing, really. all you could do was run.

so you did. your legs, still weak and unsteady, carried you through the streets, though every step felt like a battle. the world was a blur as you sprinted past, your eyes scanning the devastation in a desperate search for something familiar, something that made sense. but the deeper you went, the clearer it became—nothing was the same. there were cars, yes, but they were lifeless, their hoods flattened as if they’d been crushed by some immense force, their windows shattered, spilling glass like jagged tears onto the pavement.

houses that once lined these streets, places you’d walked past a thousand times, were torn apart, reduced to piles of splintered wood and crumbling brick. the trees, the ones that had stood tall and proud, casting shade on your summer walks, were now nothing more than charred skeletons, their blackened branches clawing at the smoke-filled sky. not even the birds could bring themselves to chirp in this wasteland. there was no life, no movement, only the eerie silence that pressed down on you from all sides, suffocating in its finality.

you kept running, your breaths coming out in harsh, uneven bursts as your heart pounded relentlessly in your chest. you needed to find them. you needed to see them—to prove that they were still there, waiting for you. your house wasn’t far, just a few more streets, and then everything would be okay. you clung to that thought as if it were a lifeline, letting it pull you through the thick fog of disbelief that clouded your mind.

but when you reached the spot where your house should’ve been, the breath was stolen from your lungs as if you’d been punched in the gut. you stopped dead in your tracks, your legs suddenly unable to carry you any further. your heart plummeted, your blood running cold as you took in the sight before you. or rather, the lack of sight. there was nothing. no car parked in the driveway where it always was. no familiar structure with its faded paint and crooked shutters that you’d always meant to fix. no house. no home. just an empty space where everything you’d known had once stood. it was as if the ground had opened up and swallowed it whole, leaving behind nothing but emptiness. the earth beneath you was torn and jagged, as if some great force had ripped it apart, and in its place, there was only desolation.

your knees buckled, sending you crashing to the ground. the pain that shot through your legs was distant, a mere echo compared to the agony tearing through your chest. you tried to deny it, tried to force yourself to believe that this was some horrible dream, that you would wake up in your bed, surrounded by the warmth of your family’s love. but the reality was stark and undeniable, pressing down on you like the weight of the sky itself. there was no car. no house. and most terrifyingly—no family.

“mom?” you called out, your voice trembling, barely more than a whisper. Then louder, “dad? hera?”

there was no answer, only the hollow sound of your voice bouncing back at you from the wreckage. you pushed yourself up, staggering towards the spot where the front door should’ve been, where your mother would’ve been waiting to greet you with a smile. but there was nothing. you tore at the dirt with your hands, desperate to find something—anything—that would tell you this wasn’t real. but your fingers found only dirt and ash, the remnants of a world that had been reduced to nothingness.

you screamed then, a broken, guttural sound that ripped from your throat, filling the emptiness around you. it was a scream born of pure despair, of a pain so deep it threatened to consume you whole. but there was no one to hear it, no one to answer your cries. the world had ended, and it had taken everything you loved with it.

you lay there on the cold, unforgiving ground, the weight of your despair threatening to drag you down into an abyss you feared you’d never crawl out of. but something inside you—some deep, primal instinct—refused to let go. you couldn’t stay here, couldn’t let yourself be swallowed by the overwhelming grief and fear that gnawed at your insides. you had to survive.

as you forced yourself to take deep, steadying breaths, the sobs that wracked your body began to subside, leaving behind a hollow ache in your chest. the world had ended, that much was clear. you didn’t know how or why, and you didn’t know who—if anyone—had survived. but the cause no longer mattered. the effect was all that remained, a bleak reality that you had no choice but to face. the end had come, and you were still here, standing in its aftermath.

you wiped the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand, your fingers smearing dirt across your cheeks. there would be time to grieve later—if there was ever going to be a “later.” for now, you had to pull yourself together, had to force your mind to focus on the one thing that mattered: survival. you needed a plan, something to cling to, a small thread of hope that maybe, just maybe, someone else was out there, doing the same. you took one last, lingering look at the remnants of what had once been your home, your sanctuary. the memories that flashed through your mind were almost too painful to bear, but you pushed them down, burying them deep inside. you couldn’t afford to dwell on what was lost. not now.

the sky above was a dull, bleak gray, casting a muted light over the landscape. it was the only source of illumination, and you knew that when night fell, the world would be plunged into total darkness. the streetlights that had once lined your neighborhood were now twisted metal, their bulbs shattered, their posts collapsed. you could only imagine that the power plants had long since run out of fuel, and any solar panels that might have once gathered energy were likely coated in a thick layer of dust and debris. maybe, just maybe, a hydroelectric station somewhere was still running, its turbines spinning in the dark, keeping some small part of the world alive. but you couldn’t count on that. you had to prepare for the worst.

pushing yourself up from the ground, you forced your legs to move, taking one step, and then another. it felt as if every muscle in your body was screaming in protest, but you ignored the pain. you had to keep going. you needed supplies, something to get you through the coming days—weeks?—whatever it would take to survive.

the neighborhood you’d grown up in was unrecognizable. as you walked, your eyes scanned the destruction around you, trying to make sense of it all. houses that had once stood tall and proud were now reduced to piles of rubble, their walls crumbled, their roofs caved in. cars, once symbols of freedom and mobility, were nothing more than dented, broken shells, their windshields smashed, their frames twisted beyond repair. the street poles, once beacons of light and order, had collided with the ground, their remains scattered like fallen giants. and yet, there were no bodies. no signs of life—or death. the absence of people, of any living thing, sent a chill down your spine, making your skin crawl. what could have caused this? where had everyone gone? the questions pounded in your head, but you had no answers. only the silence, thick and oppressive, followed you as you walked.

in the distance, you spotted a store—a small grocery shop you’d frequented countless times with your sister. the sight of it sent a wave of nostalgia crashing over you, memories of those carefree days when the world was whole and you were blissfully ignorant of what was to come. you remembered sneaking in with your sister, buying cigarettes and energy drinks, indulging in everything you weren’t supposed to have. the chime of the bell above the door had always greeted you, a cheerful sound that had made you feel mischievous and alive.

but as you approached the store, you knew there would be no bell this time. the windows were shattered, shards of glass glittering on the pavement, and the door hung on its hinges, barely clinging to the frame. you pushed it open, the movement slow and tentative, half-expecting something—or someone—to jump out at you. but there was nothing. just the echo of your footsteps on the cracked tile floor.

the interior of the store was almost untouched, the shelves still stacked with supplies, just as you remembered them. but the sight didn’t bring you comfort. Instead, it unnerved you. everything was in place, just as it had been before—except for the people. the lack of any sign of life was more terrifying than if you’d found the place ransacked and empty.

you swallowed the lump in your throat and began to gather what you needed. a sturdy bag, first. then a flashlight and batteries—your lifeline when the world plunged into darkness. water, food, anything that would keep you going for the days ahead. your hands moved with a mechanical precision, your mind numb as you tried to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside the fear that threatened to paralyze you.

as you moved through the store, you paid careful attention to the creaky ceiling above, the pitch-black corners where the light didn’t reach. the silence pressed down on you, every small sound amplified in the emptiness. you grabbed a lighter, matches—anything that could start a fire when the nights grew cold. you were preparing for the worst, trying to think ahead, but it was hard to see beyond the next few minutes, let alone days.

you realized you’d need more supplies, especially if you were going to survive for any length of time. a pharmacy would be your next stop. you’d need medicine, bandages, anything that could help in case of injury. but before you left the store, your eyes landed on a familiar sight—cigarettes. they were just sitting there, tucked away on a high shelf, untouched, as if waiting for you.

you reached up and grabbed a pack, turning it over in your hands. the weight of it brought back memories, of sneaking behind the store with your sister, laughing as you shared one, the taste of forbidden freedom on your lips. you hesitated for a moment, the nostalgia flooding you, bringing with it a wave of bittersweet emotion. and then you slipped the pack into your bag, a small piece of the past to hold onto in a world that had left you with nothing.

with the bag slung over your shoulder, you took one last look around the store, the familiar layout now foreign in its stillness. you didn’t know what lay ahead, but you knew you couldn’t stay here. there was no safety in the ruins of the past, no comfort in the empty aisles. you had to keep moving, had to keep surviving. the world had ended, but you were still there, and as long as you had breath in your lungs, you would fight to stay alive.

your breath came out in ragged gasps, each one a struggle against the tightness in your chest as you moved through the desolate streets. the weight of the bag slung over your shoulder was a constant reminder of the grim reality you were now living in. every step you took felt heavy, not just from exhaustion, but from the crushing weight of everything you had lost—or never had the chance to say goodbye to.

as you walked, your hands trembled uncontrollably, not just from the cold or the shock that had settled deep in your bones, but from the overwhelming sense of fear and hopelessness that clung to you like a shroud. you reached into the bag, pulling out the pack of cigarettes you’d taken from the store. your fingers fumbled with the lighter as you brought it to your lips, the flame flickering before catching the tip of the cigarette. the familiar, acrid scent filled the air as you inhaled deeply, the smoke curling into your lungs and spreading a warmth that felt so out of place in this cold, dead world. but that warmth was nothing more than a cruel mockery, a fleeting comfort in the face of an unbearable reality. as you exhaled, the smoke billowed out in front of you, curling into the empty air, dissipating into nothingness—just like everything you had ever known.

and then, it hit you all at once—the full force of your grief. it crashed over you like a tidal wave, pulling you under, threatening to drown you in its depths. your vision blurred, the world around you dissolving into a swirl of tears and smoke. you stumbled, your feet dragging along the cracked pavement, as sobs wracked your body. the cigarette hung limply from your lips as your breath hitched, the tears turning into streaks of sorrow that etched themselves into your skin, each one carrying a piece of the life you had lost.

you didn’t know exactly what you were grieving—was it the life you had before you fell into that coma? or was it the life you had woken up to, a life that had ended before you even had a chance to live it? perhaps it was both. perhaps it was the loss of the world you had known, the world that had crumbled into dust and ashes while you lay in that hospital bed, unaware, untouched by the horrors that had unfolded.

you wished, with every fiber of your being, that the world had ended and taken you with it. it would have been easier that way—easier than facing this bleak, empty existence where the only sounds were the echoes of your own despair. but no matter how much you wished for it, the world had not taken you. it had left you behind, abandoned in the ruins of what once was, forced to navigate the shattered remnants of a life that no longer existed.

the pharmacy loomed in the distance, its windows shattered just like the store you had come from. there was no bell to greet you as you pushed open the door, no sense of nostalgia to soften the blow. the aisles were eerily quiet, the fluorescent lights flickering dimly overhead, casting long, twisted shadows across the floor.

you moved through the pharmacy like a ghost, your hands moving on autopilot as you gathered what you needed—bandages, medicine, rubbing alcohol, gauze. the mundane nature of it all was almost surreal, as if you were simply running errands on an ordinary day. but the weight in your chest reminded you that nothing about this was ordinary. the very fact that you were there, loading up on supplies to survive in a world that had ended, made your chest tighten with a fresh wave of panic.

you didn’t linger in the pharmacy, not when every creak and groan of the building made your skin crawl. the door swung shut behind you as you stepped back into the cold, gray light of the outside world. you took one last drag of the cigarette before stubbing it out on the pavement, watching as the ember died out, leaving nothing but ash and the bitter taste of smoke on your tongue.

but as you walked away from the pharmacy, a new realization dawned on you—a realization that made your blood run cold and your heart beat faster with dread. you had nothing to defend yourself with. not even a kitchen knife. you had been so focused on finding food and medicine that you hadn’t thought about the dangers that might be lurking out there, waiting for you. you didn’t know what exactly you needed to defend yourself against, but your mind conjured up images that made your stomach churn—animals, hungry and rabid, prowling the streets in search of food, their instincts driving them to hunt, just as yours were driving you to survive. and there could be worse things out there—things you couldn’t even begin to imagine.

the thought of facing whatever dangers lay ahead without a weapon sent a fresh wave of fear coursing through you, but you knew you couldn’t afford to let that fear paralyze you. you needed to find something—anything—that could give you a fighting chance. but the problem was, the closest store that sold weapons wasn’t in busan. it was in seoul. you stopped in your tracks, the enormity of what lay ahead of you sinking in. seoul was far—too far. the journey would be long and dangerous, and you had no idea what you would find when you got there. but you had no other choice. if you wanted to survive, you had to go.

the road stretched out before you like a never-ending nightmare, each step a reminder of the bleak reality you were now forced to confront. there were no trains to take, no cars to drive; the underground systems that once thrummed with life had long since flooded, their pumps abandoned and left to the mercy of nature’s relentless tide. walking was your only option, the thought of it a crushing weight on your already heavy heart. you had no idea how long it would take to reach seoul on foot, no concept of the obstacles that lay ahead, but you knew you couldn’t stay in that place—that neighborhood that had become a graveyard of memories and lost hope. so, with nothing more than a deep breath and the resolve to keep moving, you set off, leaving behind the remnants of what you once called home.

the sun hung low in the sky, a weak and pale imitation of its former self, casting long shadows across the cracked pavement. the air was thick with dust, every breath a struggle against the dryness that coated your throat and lungs. you reached into your bag, pulling out a bottle of water, the cool liquid easing the burn in your throat as you sipped it slowly. you splashed some onto your face, washing away the sticky, salty residue of your tears, trying to cleanse yourself of the sorrow that clung to you like a second skin. but no amount of it could wash away the weight of what you had seen, what you had lost.

as you continued walking, the landscape began to change. the crumbling buildings gave way to open fields, the asphalt turning to dirt beneath your feet. and then, in the distance, you saw it—a farm, its silhouette etched against the horizon like a beacon of hope. your heart leapt in your chest, the thought that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance that you wouldn’t have to walk all the way to seoul. if the farm had survived, perhaps there would be something there, something to ease your journey, to make this unbearable task just a little bit easier.

fueled by a sudden surge of hope, you broke into a run, the bottle of water forgotten as you sprinted toward the farm. the sight of it grew clearer with each step—the fields, the pens, the barn standing tall in the distance. but as you drew closer, the hope that had burned so brightly in your chest began to flicker and fade, replaced by a growing sense of dread.

the first thing you saw were the sheep—dozens of them, their bodies lying lifeless in their pen, their wool matted with blood and dirt. flies buzzed around them, the air thick with the stench of decay. your stomach churned, the bile rising in your throat as you forced yourself to look away. but there was no escaping the sight—the pigs, the goats, all of them dead, their bodies twisted in unnatural poses, their eyes staring blankly into the void.

you had to stop, bending over with your hands on your knees as you fought to keep the contents of your stomach where they belonged. the smell was overwhelming, a sickening combination of rotting flesh and the sharp tang of blood. you took deep breaths, forcing the nausea down, forcing yourself to keep moving. you couldn’t afford to stop now—not when you had come so far. and then, just as you were about to give up, you heard it—the sound that made your heart skip a beat, a sound so out of place in this world of death and decay that you almost didn’t believe it. the cows. they were alive, their low, mournful moos carrying across the field, a desperate plea for help that tugged at your heartstrings.

you ran toward the barn, your feet pounding against the dirt as you pushed through the gates, sprinting toward the sound. you didn’t even stop to think, your only focus on getting to them, on finding some sign of life in this dead world. the barn doors creaked as you pushed them open, the hinges groaning under the weight of years of neglect. but the sight that greeted you inside was not one of hope. it was a scene that would be etched into your memory forever, a sight that made your stomach lurch and your heart freeze in your chest.

a man sat in a chair in the middle of the barn, his body slumped forward, his head resting on the head of the little girl in his lap. they were both dead, their eyes closed, their faces peaceful in a way that belied the horror of their final moments. blood had dried on their clothes, the dark stains a vivid contrast against the pale skin of the girl. at the man’s feet lay a shotgun, its barrel still warm from the final act that had ended both of their lives.

you stood frozen, your breath caught in your throat, unable to move, unable to process the scene before you. it was only when the tears began to fall that you realized you were crying, the sobs tearing from your chest in a torrent of grief and guilt. you stumbled forward, collapsing to your knees in front of them, the weight of their deaths pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. you didn’t know the man, you didn’t know his daughter, but that didn’t matter. in that moment, they were all you had—all you had left in this empty, dead world. you reached out, your hand trembling as you brushed a lock of hair from the girl’s face, whispering apologies through your tears. she was so small, so innocent, and she had deserved none of this. neither of them had.

the man had chosen the easy way out, sparing his daughter from the horrors that awaited her in the new world. you could only hope that he had been quick, that he had been merciful, that she had felt no pain. but the sight of them, sitting there in that barn, was a cruel reminder of the reality you were now living in. there was no easy way out for you—not yet, not now. you forced yourself to your feet, the weight of the shotgun in your hands a grim reminder of what you had to do. you couldn’t leave it behind, not when it was the only thing that could keep you safe, the only thing that could give you a fighting chance in this world. but the thought of taking it, of holding the weapon that had ended their lives, made your skin crawl.

with one last, tearful apology, you turned and left the barn, the shotgun clutched tightly in your hands. the air outside was cold, the sky a dull gray, the sun barely a sliver on the horizon. and then, just as you were about to give up hope, you heard it—a sound that made your heart leap in your chest. a neigh, clear and strong, as if calling out to you.

you spun around, your eyes scanning the fields until you saw them—three horses, their bodies thin and frail, their ribs visible beneath their coats. they were desperate, hungry, on the brink of starvation, but they were alive. the sight of them filled you with a renewed sense of hope, a glimmer of something you had thought long lost. without a second thought, you ran to them, grabbing handfuls of hay from the bales stacked against the barn, easing the food to them one by one. their eyes were wide, their movements frantic as they devoured the hay, their hunger evident in every bite. you fed them until the last bit of hay was gone, the sound of their chewing the only thing breaking the silence of the farm.

once they were fed, you approached the largest of the three, your hand trembling as you reached out to stroke its neck.the horse nickered softly, its breath warm against your skin, and you knew in that moment that walking was no longer your only option. you saddled up, the shotgun strapped to your back, knowing that this was your best chance, your only chance, to make it to seoul. with one last look at the farm—the barn, the fields, the lifeless bodies of the animals—you urged the horse forward, its hooves clattering against the dirt as you set off on the long journey ahead.

the journey to seoul was long and grueling, the landscape around you gradually shifting as the hours passed. at first, the road was lined with the remnants of suburbia—houses in various states of disrepair, some still standing, others reduced to rubble. trees, once tall and full of life, now stood as charred skeletons, their branches twisted and broken. cars littered the streets, their windows shattered, hoods crumpled like discarded cans. the silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the once-bustling streets you remembered. there was no sound but the rhythmic clop of the horse's hooves against the pavement, a lonely echo that reverberated through the empty world.

as you rode, the sun began its slow descent, casting long shadows that stretched across the road like grasping fingers. the air grew cooler, the oppressive heat of the day giving way to a chilly breeze that sent shivers down your spine. you pulled your jacket tighter around you, the fabric rough and comforting against your skin, and glanced down at the horse beneath you. its breathing was steady but labored, its pace slowing as exhaustion set in. you felt a pang of guilt as you realized just how long you had been pushing it, driving it forward without pause, without thought. the horse had carried you this far, and it deserved a moment to rest, to drink, to catch its breath. you guided it off the road and into a small clearing, where a stream trickled gently through the grass. dismounting, you led the horse to the water, watching as it dipped its head and drank deeply, its thirst evident in the way it gulped down the cool liquid.

you crouched beside it, cupping your hands to scoop up some water for yourself. the stream was clear and cold, and as you splashed it onto your face, the icy shock helped to clear the fog of fatigue that had settled over you. you drank in silence, the water a welcome relief to your parched throat, before standing and gazing out at the road ahead. seoul was still miles away, the city skyline barely visible on the horizon, a distant mirage of steel and glass. but it was there—your destination, your last hope. the thought of reaching it filled you with a strange mixture of dread and determination. what would you find there? would the city be as lifeless as everything else you had seen, or would there be some sign of life, some remnant of the world you once knew?

the horse finished drinking and nudged you gently with its nose, as if urging you to continue. you patted its neck, offering it a quiet word of thanks before mounting once more. the journey resumed, the road stretching out before you like a ribbon of darkness, winding its way toward the heart of the city. as you rode, the landscape continued to change. the open fields and scattered houses gave way to more densely packed buildings, their windows staring out like hollow eyes. shops, restaurants, and offices lined the streets, their signs faded and their doors broken. some buildings had collapsed entirely, their walls crumbling into piles of rubble that spilled out onto the road. others stood eerily untouched, as if waiting for someone to return, to breathe life back into their empty halls.

you passed by a school, its playground overgrown with weeds, the swings creaking softly in the breeze. a grocery store stood nearby, its windows smashed, the shelves inside picked clean. the sight of it sent a chill down your spine, the realization that you were utterly alone sinking in once more. there were no scavengers, no looters, no signs of struggle—only the quiet, oppressive weight of abandonment. the sun dipped lower in the sky, its light casting the world in hues of orange and gold. the shadows grew longer, stretching across the road like dark tendrils, and you felt a growing sense of urgency. you needed to reach seoul before nightfall, before the darkness swallowed the world whole. with a gentle nudge, you urged the horse to quicken its pace, the city drawing ever closer with each passing moment.

finally, as the last rays of sunlight began to fade, you crested a hill and saw it—seoul. the city spread out before you, vast and sprawling, its towering skyscrapers rising up like sentinels in the twilight. the sight was both awe-inspiring and terrifying, the enormity of the city’s center almost overwhelming in its silence. you slowed the horse to a stop, your breath catching in your throat as you took it all in. the streets below were empty, devoid of the bustling crowds and endless streams of cars that once filled them. buildings that had once housed thousands of people now stood dark and hollow, their windows reflecting the fading light like dull, lifeless eyes. the silence was palpable, a living thing that pressed in around you, filling the empty spaces with its oppressive weight.

as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, the last vestiges of daylight vanished, leaving the city bathed in a deep, inky darkness. the only light came from the few remaining fires that still smoldered in the distance, their orange glow casting eerie shadows that danced along the edges of the buildings. the temperature dropped, the chill of night seeping into your bones as you sat there, staring out at the city that had once been the heart of the nation. you should have felt something—relief, maybe, or even hope. but all you felt was a hollow emptiness, a gnawing ache that settled deep in your chest. you had made it, but the city offered no comfort, no answers. it was as lifeless as the rest of the world.

you dismounted the horse, your legs trembling with exhaustion, and led it to a nearby alley where you could find some semblance of shelter. the walls rose up around you, the darkness closing in, and you pulled your jacket tighter, trying to ward off the cold. the horse nickered softly, its warm breath a small comfort in the chill night air. you found a spot where the alley narrowed, the walls on either side providing some protection from the wind, and sat down, your back against the rough brick. the horse stood nearby, its eyes half-closed, its head drooping with fatigue. you reached out and stroked its mane, whispering soothing words, though you weren’t sure who you were trying to comfort—yourself or the horse.

the city was quiet, the silence alive with the absence of sound. there were no voices, no footsteps, no hum of electricity or rush of cars. the world had ended, and all that remained was this—an empty city, a lone survivor, and the faint hope that somewhere, somehow, someone else had made it through the darkness. as the last of the light faded and the world was plunged into darkness, you closed your eyes and tried to sleep. but the silence was too loud, the emptiness too vast, and all you could do was sit there, staring into the void, waiting for a dawn that might never come.

the moon hung high in the sky, a sliver of pale light casting long shadows across the deserted streets of seoul as you made your way to the weapon shop. the air was cold, biting at your exposed skin as you trudged forward, your mind a fog of exhaustion and fear. the city was eerily quiet, the silence only broken by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant creak of a sign swaying in the wind. but it was when you heard the first howl that your blood ran cold, freezing you in place.

the sound echoed through the empty streets, low and guttural, a primal call that sent a shiver down your spine. you didn’t know what it was, but you knew it wasn’t anything good. the howling grew louder, more frequent, and you forced your feet to move, your heart pounding in your chest as you quickened your pace. the weapon shop was close—just a few more blocks, and you would be safe. at least, that’s what you told yourself.

when you finally reached the shop, you didn’t hesitate. the building loomed large before you, three stories tall with a garage to the side, its dark facade blending into the shadows of the night. you darted across the street and threw open the door, slipping inside and quickly closing it behind you. the air inside was musty, filled with the scent of gun oil and old wood, a stark contrast to the crisp night air outside.

your eyes adjusted to the dim light, and you took in your surroundings. the shop was enormous, shelves upon shelves lined with every kind of weapon imaginable. guns, knives, bows and arrows, boxes of ammunition—everything you needed to survive was right here. you wasted no time, grabbing a large duffel bag from a nearby counter and filling it with supplies. a handgun with a box of bullets, a set of throwing knives, a bow with a quiver of arrows—each item you picked up felt like a small piece of security, a shield against the unknown dangers lurking outside.

as you moved through the shop, your eyes fell on the garage door, and you froze. there, written in big, crimson letters, were the same words you had seen before, “may god help us all.” the blood was still wet, glistening under the faint light filtering in through the broken windows. your heart skipped a beat, and a cold wave of fear washed over you. the message was ominous, a reminder that whatever had happened was far from over.

you were still staring at the words when the sound of glass shattering snapped you back to reality. you whipped around, the shotgun already in your hands, your finger on the trigger. the noise had come from the front of the shop, where a window had just been broken. panic seized you as you realized you weren’t alone. you spun around, eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement, the shotgun trembling in your grip.

but before you could react, something heavy and solid collided with your hand, sending the shotgun flying across the room. a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against a solid chest, while another hand clamped down on your wrists, pinning them to the wall. you struggled, kicking out, but the grip was too strong, the man behind you unyielding. “who are you?” his voice was low, rough, filled with suspicion. “what are you doing here?”

you were too shocked to respond at first, your mind reeling. relief flooded through you at the realization that you weren’t alone, that there was another human being here. but that relief was short-lived, replaced by a surge of panic as you registered the man’s hostility. “my name is (y/n) (l/n),” you replied, your voice trembling. “i came from busan. the closest weapon store was in seoul, so i—”

“do you really think i’m gonna fall for that?” the man scoffed, his grip tightening around your wrists. you winced at the pain, shaking your head in confusion. “i don’t—what are you talking about?” you asked, your voice growing weaker as fear took hold. you could feel the man’s breath against your neck, hot and unsteady, as he spun you around to face him. your back hit the wall, and you looked up to meet his eyes—dark, piercing, and filled with something you couldn’t quite place.

he studied your face intently, his eyes narrowing as he reached out and touched your skin, probing at your cheeks and jawline as if searching for something hidden beneath the surface. you recoiled at the contact, trying to pull away, but he held you firmly in place. “what the hell is wrong with you?” you snapped, your voice rising in frustration and fear. the man ignored your question, his brow furrowing as he continued his inspection.

“are you really human?” he muttered, almost to himself, his eyes narrowing further. “when did the last war end?”

the question caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. “the korean war? it ended in 1953,” you stammered, utterly confused. his grip loosened slightly, and you seized the opportunity to ask, “why wouldn’t i be human?”

he let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “you really don’t know, do you? have you been living under a rock this whole time?” there was a note of incredulity in his voice, as if the very idea was impossible. you had no idea how to respond. you wanted to ask what he meant, to demand answers, but the words caught in your throat. all you could do was stand there, staring up at him with wide, bewildered eyes.

“i just wanna find my sister,” you finally whispered, your voice barely audible. something in his gaze shifted at your words, the hard lines of his expression softening slightly. but before he could say anything, the howling started again, closer this time, the sound tearing through the silence of the night like a blade. the man’s eyes widened, panic flashing across his face as he released your wrists and grabbed your hand instead.

“they’re near,” he said urgently, pulling you away from the wall. “we need to go. now.”

“who’s near? what’s out there?” you asked, your voice rising with fear. but he didn’t answer, his grip on your hand tightening as he dragged you toward the door. the howling grew louder, more desperate, and your heart pounded in your chest as you followed him outside. he led you to a horse tied up at the side of the shop, its eyes wide with fear, nostrils flaring as it sensed the danger approaching.

“get on,” he commanded, practically lifting you onto the horse’s back. you hesitated for a moment, your mind racing with questions, but another howl—closer, more menacing—sent a jolt of fear through you, and you didn’t argue. the man mounted the horse behind you, his arms wrapping around you to take hold of the reins. without another word, he spurred the horse into a gallop, the two of you racing away from the shop and the howls that pursued you through the darkness. the wind whipped at your face, and the city blurred around you as the horse sped through the empty streets, the pounding of its hooves matching the frantic rhythm of your heart.

the wind whipped against your face as the horse bolted down the deserted streets, the rhythmic pounding of hooves resonating through the silence of the city. you tightened your grip around the man's waist, your fingers digging into the fabric of his coat as you clung to him, your heart hammering in your chest. the world blurred around you, a dizzying mix of shadows and moonlight, but you forced yourself to look back, to see what was chasing you.

at first, you thought you were seeing things—figures, indistinct in the darkness, running after you. people. it didn’t make sense, but there they were, sprinting through the streets with an almost unnatural speed. relief fluttered in your chest, a momentary flicker of hope that you weren’t as alone as you thought, that maybe, just maybe, there were still survivors. but that hope died a quick death as you watched in horror.

the figures—those people—began to change. as they ran, their bodies convulsed, bones snapping and reforming in grotesque ways, their limbs elongating and bending at unnatural angles. fur sprouted across their skin, thick and matted, as their faces elongated into sharp muzzles, fangs flashing under the moonlight. the air filled with the sickening sound of their transformation, a blend of animalistic growls and the grotesque snapping of bones. in mere seconds, what had been human was now a pack of wolves, their eyes glowing with a terrifying hunger as they closed the distance between you.

you were paralyzed with shock, your mind struggling to process what you were seeing, a cold wave of terror crashing over you as the realization settled in. the man in front of you glanced over his shoulder, his gaze hard as he took in the sight of the wolves. “do you get it now?” he asked, his voice grim, almost resigned. you shook your head, your voice trembling as you replied, “i was in a coma, for a month. i woke up to nothing.”

he didn’t respond immediately, his focus shifting back to the path ahead as the horse galloped faster, the cityscape flying by in a blur. when he finally spoke, his voice was low, laced with a bitter edge. “you missed the end of the world. lucky you.”

his words hit you like a punch to the gut, the weight of them settling heavily in your chest. the end of the world. you wanted to ask him what had happened, to demand answers, but the words stuck in your throat, strangled by the fear clawing at your insides. instead, you forced yourself to ask the one question that burned in your mind.

“what are those things?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the wind and the relentless pounding of hooves. he shrugged, a sharp, humorless laugh escaping him. “people call them skinwalkers.” he paused, his gaze hardening as he looked back at the wolves chasing you. “we just call them predators. they don’t deserve to be named—just killed.”

his words sent a chill down your spine, the cold, detached tone in which he spoke of them making your stomach turn. you wanted to argue, to protest, but you knew it would be futile. the creatures—those skinwalkers—were far from human now, twisted by whatever horrors had unfolded during your month of oblivion. you swallowed hard, fighting back the nausea that threatened to rise as you clung tighter to the man, your mind spinning with a thousand questions that had no answers.

the horse veered sharply to the right, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts as the man guided it down a narrow alley, the buildings towering above you on either side. the howls of the wolves echoed through the city, growing louder, more frantic, as they pursued you with relentless determination. but the man didn’t falter, his grip on the reins steady, his focus unwavering as he pushed the horse to its limits. you didn’t dare look back again. Instead, you buried your face in the man’s shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to block out the terror that threatened to consume you. your mind raced with thoughts of your sister, of the world that had crumbled while you lay unconscious, and of the unknown dangers that lurked in the shadows of the new, terrifying reality.

for what felt like an eternity, you rode through the labyrinth of seoul’s streets, the city a dark and twisted maze that offered no comfort, no refuge. every shadow seemed to move, every sound echoed with the threat of something worse, and the howls of the skinwalkers followed you like a sinister promise of what awaited if you faltered. at last, the secluded campsite came into view, a sprawling expanse surrounded by tall, imposing fences. the heavy gates were reinforced with barbed wire, a stark reminder of the dangers lurking beyond. the man guided the horse towards the entrance, his movements careful, methodical. he had been quiet for most of the ride, his focus solely on getting you both to safety, but now that you were here, you could sense a shift in his demeanor. a tension that had been absent before.

when the horse came to a stop just outside the gates, he dismounted first, his boots hitting the ground with a soft thud. he reached up to help you down, his hands firm as he guided you to solid ground. you felt the exhaustion settle into your bones as soon as your feet touched the earth, your legs trembling with the effort of standing after such a long and harrowing ride. you managed a weak smile, despite everything, and offered a quiet, “thank you.”

he scoffed, his expression a mix of weariness and amusement. “don’t thank me,” he muttered, his tone almost dismissive. he paused, glancing down at the bags you clutched tightly to your chest. “you’re the one with the weapons.” his words made you scowl, the idea of sharing the supplies you had risked so much to gather sending a surge of irritation through you. you clutched the bags tighter, your knuckles whitening as you grimaced at the thought. it was your first real instinct of self-preservation since you had woken up, a primal urge to protect what little you had left.

he noticed, and a soft chuckle escaped him. “relax,” he said, his tone lighter now, almost teasing. “i’m not here to take anything from you. just making sure we both survive the night.”

his words did little to ease your discomfort, but you forced yourself to loosen your grip on the bags, nodding reluctantly. there was a long pause, the silence stretching between you as you stood there in the shadow of the towering fence, the distant crackle of a fire reaching your ears. it was the first sign of life you had encountered since the end of the world as you knew it, and it stirred something deep within you—hope, maybe, or the fear of finding out just how few had survived.

you swallowed hard, pushing past the knot of anxiety that had lodged itself in your throat. “I never got your name,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended, barely louder than the rustling of leaves in the wind. he looked at you then, really looked at you, his dark eyes reflecting the dim light of the distant fire. there was something guarded in his expression, a hesitation that you couldn’t quite place, but after a moment, he nodded, his lips curving into a faint, almost reluctant smile.

“jungkook,” he replied, his voice steady. then, after a beat, he added, “jeon jungkook.”

you nodded, the name settling into your mind as you repeated it silently to yourself. there was something reassuring about knowing his name, something that made the situation feel a little less surreal, a little more grounded in reality. you didn’t know why, but it gave you a small measure of comfort, as if knowing this one thing could somehow anchor you in a world that had become so utterly unrecognizable.

with a quiet sigh, you followed him towards the entrance of the campsite, the soft glow of the fire growing brighter as you drew closer. the night was still, the silence broken only by the sound of your footsteps crunching against the gravel. the tall fences loomed above you, their presence both intimidating and reassuring, a reminder that, for now at least, you were safe.

as you approached the camp, you caught sight of the fire—a small, controlled flame flickering in the center of the site, surrounded by a few scattered tents and makeshift shelters. shadows moved around it, figures huddled close to the warmth, their faces obscured by the dim light. you couldn’t tell how many people were there, but the sight of them filled you with a mixture of anticipation and unease. you had wondered for so long if you were alone in this new world, and now that you knew you weren’t, you weren’t sure what to expect.

as you neared the campsite, the first thing that struck you was the subdued glow of the fire, its warmth a definite contrast to the cold, oppressive darkness surrounding you. the silhouettes of the people grew clearer with each step, their movements casting shifting shadows on the ground. a man sat by the fire, meticulously cleaning his pistol with practiced precision. the soft clinking of metal against metal was a steady, rhythmic sound, providing a strange comfort in the otherwise silent night. nearby, a woman was hanging clothes to dry on a makeshift line, her actions slow and deliberate. the sight of her, busy with mundane tasks, was oddly reassuring.

another man, his face illuminated by the firelight, was roasting what appeared to be an animal. the smell of cooking meat filled the air, mingling with the scent of smoke. It was a reminder of the normalcy that once was, a slice of life that had persisted even in the wake of disaster. beside the fire, another figure lay on the ground, his form barely discernible, while a young girl—barely older than a teenager—stood with her back to you. as you and jungkook approached, the girl turned slowly, the sound of your footsteps catching her attention. when she saw you, your heart skipped a beat, and the weight of the world seemed to lift momentarily. your bags slipped from your grip, hitting the ground with a muted thud.

“hera?” you breathed, the name escaping your lips in a whisper.

the recognition was mutual. hera’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth as tears welled up and spilled over. her face contorted with shock and disbelief, and she ran towards you. in an instant, she was in your arms, her embrace fierce and desperate. you sobbed into her shoulder, the relief of finding her overwhelming. the group watched in stunned silence as you and her clung to each other, your sobs mingling with hers in a raw display of emotion. hera’s voice was muffled as she asked, “what are you doing here?”

you could barely manage to articulate through your tears. “i was looking for you,” you managed to choke out. “i was looking for you, and i found you.” you brushed her hair away from her tear-streaked face, trying to steady yourself. the warmth of her presence was a balm to your fractured spirit. jungkook, standing just outside the circle of light, took in the scene with a softened gaze.

“you should’ve just said hera was your sister,” he said, his voice low and contemplative. the woman hanging clothes wiped at her eyes, her expression one of awe and empathy. “not every day you get a sight like this in such a place,” she said softly.

the man who had been cleaning his gun straightened, curiosity etched on his face. “jungkook, who is she?” he asked. jungkook turned to the group, gesturing towards you. “(y/n) (l/n),” he said. “found her at the weapon shop.”

you lifted the two bags that had fallen to the ground, holding them up for the group to see. one was filled with weapons, the other with supplies. as their faces lit up with a mix of relief and gratitude, the gravity of the situation seemed to shift. the realization that you had come prepared, that you had braved the perils to bring something valuable to their camp, seemed to lift the somber mood. with hera still holding onto you, you felt the weight of the journey finally lift from your shoulders. the camp, once a distant beacon of hope, now felt like a place of refuge, a haven where, against all odds, you had found something precious amidst the ruins.

as the night deepened, you settled near the fire, the warmth seeping through your clothes and offering a much-needed reprieve from the cold. the crackle of the flames was soothing, a rhythmic backdrop to the quiet conversations that wove through the camp. hera had fallen asleep on your lap, her breathing steady and calm after the emotions of the day. you carefully shifted, trying not to disturb her as you reached for the bags you had brought with you. the group watched with a mix of curiosity and gratitude as you opened the bags, revealing the canned goods and supplies you had scavenged.

“oh hani, min yoongi, kim taehyung, jung hoseok,” jungkook introduced the members of the group with a casual wave, nodding to each as he spoke. each name felt like a small anchor in the sea of confusion, a thread connecting you to the new world you were navigating.

you set about distributing the canned goods, the clink of metal against metal a comforting sound in the quiet of the night. hani, who had been hanging clothes earlier, now busied herself arranging the cans, her movements efficient and practiced. yoongi, who had been resting on the ground, joined the effort with a weary but grateful nod. taehyung, who had been cleaning his pistol, put his weapon aside to help. hoseok, having finished roasting the squirrel, offered a satisfied smile as he took a can. as you worked, the group explained more about their situation. they shared that hera had been desperately searching for you, her presence a beacon of hope in their small enclave. they had taken her in, treating her like their own, and she had become a beloved part of their makeshift family.

the conversation eventually turned to you and your ordeal. hani, while opening a can of beans, gently asked about your coma and how you had survived. you shook your head, struggling to recall the details. “i don’t remember much,” you admitted softly. “i was in a coma. i woke up after a month, and everything was different.”

they listened attentively as jungkook took over, explaining that the world had ended with a nuclear attack, a catastrophic event that had turned many into twisted, hungry creatures. “those who were exposed either died or became skinwalkers,” he said, his voice somber. “skinwalkers, they were once people. now, they’re predators, hiding among the living. it’s not always obvious who’s been turned until they’re hungry, and by then, it’s too late.”

the weight of his words sank heavily in your stomach. the thought that anyone, even those you trusted, could become something monstrous was terrifying. the image of those skinwalkers, people who had lost their humanity, lingered in your mind, twisting into dark, anxious thoughts. taehyung’s voice broke through your reverie. “are you planning to join us?” he asked, his eyes steady as he looked at you.

you hesitated, the decision weighing heavily on you. the idea of leaving hera behind was unthinkable, but you also knew you had to make a choice for your own survival. after a moment of silent contemplation, you met jungkook’s gaze. his expression was open, his eyes warm and reassuring. “i’ll stay,” you said finally, your voice firm despite the turmoil inside you. “i can’t leave hera. i need to be here for her.” jungkook’s smile softened, a flicker of relief in his eyes. “good,” he said quietly. “we could use another pair of hands.”

as the night deepened, the flickering firelight gradually began to dim, its warm glow surrendering to the cool darkness of the surrounding forest. the sounds of the camp quieted, conversations trailing off as exhaustion began to overtake the small group. one by one, they each found their way to their makeshift beds, the day's events weighing heavily on their minds. jungkook, still sitting by the fire, looked around the group. “who’s going to keep watch tonight?” he asked, his voice soft but steady, cutting through the peaceful silence.

you immediately volunteered, the words slipping out before you could even think about them. “i’ll do it,” you said, determination lacing your voice. you didn’t want to sleep, not yet. your thoughts were too restless, too clouded by everything that had happened. you began to gently lift hera, her small body feeling heavier in your arms as the day’s exhaustion settled in. she stirred slightly but didn’t wake, her face calm and peaceful, a contrast to the chaos that surrounded you. you tried to carry her into her tent, but your muscles screamed in protest, the weight too much after the day you’d had. your arms shook, and you felt yourself faltering.

jungkook noticed your struggle, his dark eyes softening as he quietly stood and walked over to you. without a word, he reached out and took hera from your arms, his movements careful and deliberate as he cradled her against his chest. relief washed over you, and you couldn’t help but give him a grateful smile. “thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet night. he just nodded, his expression unreadable as he turned and carried her toward the tent. you followed close behind, your footsteps soft against the earth. the tent flap rustled as he pushed it aside and stepped inside, his movements slow and gentle as he laid hera down on the makeshift bed. he adjusted the blanket around her small frame, making sure she was warm and comfortable.

you knelt beside her, your heart swelling with a mix of love and sorrow as you watched her sleep. her face, so serene, was a reminder of everything you were fighting for. you reached out and gently brushed a few strands of hair away from her forehead, your fingers lingering as you marveled at how peaceful she looked, even in this broken world. “she’s like a daughter to us,” jungkook said quietly, his voice carrying a deep sense of affection. he sat back on his heels, watching her with a soft expression that you hadn’t seen before.

you turned to look at him, your heart aching with gratitude. “thank you for watching over her, for keeping her safe. i don’t know what i would’ve done if something had happened to her.” jungkook met your gaze, his eyes dark and sincere. “you don’t have to thank me,” he replied, his voice low and steady. “she’s a good kid. we all care about her.”

silence fell between you, the weight of everything unspoken hanging in the air. there was a shared understanding in that quiet, an acknowledgment of the burdens each of you carried. in that moment, you felt a connection with him, something deeper than the circumstances that had brought you together. you broke the silence first, your voice soft but firm. “you should get some sleep. i’ll keep watch.”

he shook his head, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “i’ll keep you company,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. you opened your mouth to protest but stopped yourself. there was something comforting in the idea of not being alone, of having someone beside you as the night wore on. you nodded, a quiet acceptance, and he settled down beside you. together, you both sat in the tent, the stillness of the night wrapping around you like a blanket.

outside, the wind rustled through the trees, a soft whisper that mingled with the quiet breaths of the sleeping camp. jungkook stayed close, his presence a steady anchor in the uncertainty of the night.

every so often, you’d glance at hera, her tiny chest rising and falling with each peaceful breath, and your heart would swell with a fierce protectiveness. you were grateful to jungkook and the others for keeping her safe when you couldn’t, and for giving her a sense of normalcy in a world that had lost all sense of it. he leaned back slightly, his shoulders relaxed as he kept a watchful eye on the tent’s entrance. the firelight from outside cast long shadows, painting his features in a mixture of light and dark. you studied him in the dim light, wondering about the man who had so easily taken on the role of protector, not just for hera, but for all of them.

time passed slowly, the night inching forward as the two of you remained vigilant. every creak of a tree or rustle in the underbrush set your nerves on edge, but jungkook’s calm presence helped keep your fears at bay. the silence was no longer uncomfortable; it was a shared experience, a mutual understanding that you were both in this together. you found yourself growing more and more weary, the events of the day catching up to you. but every time your eyes began to droop, you’d shake yourself awake, determined to stay alert. jungkook noticed, his sharp gaze catching every small movement. “you’re exhausted,” he observed quietly, his voice gentle but firm. “you should rest.”

you shook your head, refusing to give in. “i’ll be fine,” you insisted, even though your body was screaming for sleep. “i can’t, can’t let my guard down.” jungkook’s expression softened, and he leaned a little closer. “you’re not alone anymore,” he reminded you. “we’ll take turns. i’ll keep watch for now. you can rest.”

the warmth in his voice, the genuine concern, made something inside you finally give way. you hadn’t realized just how desperately you needed that reassurance, that reminder that you didn’t have to do this all on your own. with a reluctant nod, you finally allowed yourself to lie down beside hera, pulling the blanket up to your chin. jungkook stayed close, his presence a silent promise that he’d keep you both safe.

as your eyes began to close, you felt a hand gently brush your arm. “you did good today,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “get some rest. i’ve got you.” those were the last words you heard before you allowed the world to go black once more. once again, everything was silent. only this time, you allowed it. you allowed it as you relished in the fact that, for once, you weren't alone.

you awoke to the smell of something cooking, the savory aroma of meat roasting over a fire drawing you from the depths of sleep. the tent was still, hera’s small form curled up beside you, her breathing soft and even. you took a moment to watch her, the way her face relaxed in slumber, so different from the tense expression she often wore when awake. it was a reminder of how much she had been through, how much she still needed you.

carefully, you slipped out of the tent, making sure not to wake her. the morning air was cool and crisp, the sky a pale blue streaked with the first light of dawn. the camp was coming to life around you, the quiet rustling of movement as the others began their day. near the fire, you spotted hani, her dark hair pulled back as she crouched beside a spit, turning a rabbit that was roasting over the flames. the sight of it made your stomach growl, a reminder of just how long it had been since you’d eaten anything substantial.

you approached her quietly, offering her a small smile. “good morning,” you said softly, not wanting to startle her. hani looked up, her expression warm as she returned your greeting. “morning. thank you for keeping watch last night.”

you shook your head, waving off her thanks. “it was nothing. you should sit down for a bit, though. i can take over the cooking if you’d like.” she chuckled softly, shaking her head. “you’re a sweetheart, but i’ve got it under control. i’ve been doing this for a while now.” she paused, her eyes assessing you for a moment before she asked, “do you know much about guns?”

you nodded slightly. “enough to get by. why?” she motioned towards the bag you had brought with you, where the weapons were stored. “could you take over cleaning the ones you brought? we need to make sure they’re in good condition.” you nodded again, understanding the importance of keeping the weapons clean and functional. “of course,” you replied. “i’ll take care of it.”

“thanks,” hani said, her tone appreciative. “it’s a big help.” you retrieved the bag with the weapons, hefting it over your shoulder as you walked towards the edge of the camp. you needed space, somewhere quiet where you could focus on the task at hand. the forest loomed ahead, the trees casting long shadows over the ground as the morning light filtered through the branches.

as you walked, you caught taehyung’s eye across the camp. his gaze was sharp, unreadable, and you couldn’t quite place the look he gave you. it wasn’t hostile, but it wasn’t friendly either. you offered him a small smile, hoping to ease whatever tension lay between you, but he didn’t return it. instead, he looked away, his expression hardening. pushing the encounter from your mind, you found a secluded spot beneath a large oak tree and set the bag down. the ground was damp with morning dew, the air thick with the scent of earth and foliage. you knelt down, unzipping the bag to reveal the assortment of weapons inside. pistols, rifles, even a couple of knives—all in need of cleaning.

you started with the pistols, methodically disassembling each one, laying the pieces out on a clean cloth. your hands moved with practiced ease, the motions familiar as you cleaned and oiled each part, ensuring they were in working order. the repetitive task was almost meditative, giving you something to focus on besides the lingering uncertainty in the pit of your stomach. as you worked, the sounds of the forest filled the silence—the chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves, the distant crack of a branch. it was peaceful, a stark contrast to the tension that had been gnawing at you since you’d woken up in that hospital. there, in that quiet moment, you felt a semblance of control, a small piece of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic world.

but the peace didn’t last. as you were finishing the last pistol, you heard a rustling in the bushes behind you, the sound too deliberate to be an animal. your heart leapt into your throat, and without thinking, you reached for the nearest gun, your fingers wrapping around the grip as you spun around, ready to defend yourself. before you could react further, you felt two hands on your shoulders, firm but not aggressive. you whipped around, your pulse racing, only to find yourself staring into jungkook’s amused eyes.

“this is the second time you’ve drawn your gun on me,” he said, a playful grin tugging at his lips. you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, lowering the gun as you scoffed. “and this is the second time you’ve scared me.”

he laughed, the sound low and rich, cutting through the tension that had built up in your chest. “fair enough,” he conceded, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “did you really clean all these guns by yourself?” pride swelled within you as you gestured to the neatly arranged weapons. “see for yourself.”

his grin widened as he glanced at the pistols, his eyebrows lifting in appreciation. “impressive,” he admitted, nodding in approval. “you’re full of surprises.” you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips, a sense of satisfaction warming you from the inside. it felt good to be useful, to contribute something tangible to the group.

“come on,” jungkook said, jerking his head towards the forest. “let’s see if we can catch some game. we could use the meat.” you nodded in agreement, feeling a renewed sense of purpose as you followed him deeper into the woods. the forest was alive with the sounds of morning, the sunlight filtering through the canopy above, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor.

it didn’t take long to spot your first target—a rabbit, its small, gray body barely visible among the underbrush. you raised your gun, your breath steady as you took aim, focusing on the task at hand. the rabbit was still, unaware of the danger, and you hesitated for just a moment before pulling the trigger. the shot rang out, echoing through the trees. the rabbit fell, its body twitching slightly before going still. you lowered the gun, a sense of grim satisfaction settling over you as you approached the animal.

but as you drew closer, something about the rabbit caught your eye. its fur was matted, patches of it missing, and there were dark, swollen marks around its neck. you knelt down, examining it more closely, and your stomach dropped when you saw the unmistakable signs of a bite—jagged, deep wounds that could only have been made by a skinwalker. you stepped back quickly, your heart pounding as the reality of it sank in. the rabbit wasn’t just injured; it was infected. if you had touched it, eaten it.

“damn,” you muttered under your breath, fear creeping up your spine. jungkook, who had been watching from a few feet away, noticed the change in your demeanor. he walked over, his expression darkening as he saw the bite marks. “we should leave it,” he said, his voice low and serious. “it’s not safe.”

you nodded, your mouth suddenly dry. the encounter had shaken you more than you cared to admit, the fear of what could have happened lingering in the back of your mind. sensing your unease, jungkook gave you a reassuring look. “it’s okay,” he said gently. “we’ll find something else.”

he led the way deeper into the forest, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a practiced ease. you followed, trying to shake off the lingering fear, focusing instead on the task at hand. after a while, you spotted movement in the distance—a deer, its graceful form half-hidden among the trees. jungkook motioned for you to stay back as he raised his rifle, taking careful aim. you watched, holding your breath as he steadied his shot, his finger tightening on the trigger.

the shot was clean, the bullet finding its mark. the deer stumbled, then fell to the ground, its body going still. relief washed over you, mingled with a sense of admiration for jungkook’s skill. you approached the fallen deer together, your hands steady as you began the process of cleaning it. the work was familiar, the motions practiced, but there was a heaviness to it now, the encounter with the rabbit still fresh in your mind.

he watched you as you worked, a small grin tugging at his lips. “i didn’t take you for a hunter,” he remarked, his tone light. you glanced up at him, a smirk playing on your lips. “yeah, well, you took me for a skinwalker.”

he rolled his eyes, though there was no malice in his expression. “i’m glad you’re not.” you both shared a small laugh, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating as you finished cleaning the deer. it was hard work, but it felt good, grounding you in the reality of the moment, reminding you that you were still here, still fighting.

with the deer cleaned and ready, you and jungkook headed back to the campsite. the sun was higher in the sky now, casting a warm glow over the clearing as you emerged from the trees. the others were waiting, their faces lighting up when they saw the deer. hera was the first to spot you, her eyes widening with pride as she ran over to you. “did you really clean it?” she asked, her voice full of admiration. you nodded, a warm smile spreading across your face. “i did.”

from behind, you heard taehyung’s voice, cold and sharp. “good,” he said, his tone biting. “you should be making yourself useful anyway.” silence fell over the group, the air thick with awkwardness. you felt the sting of his words, the way they cut through the camaraderie that had been building. you didn’t understand where his hostility was coming from, but it was clear that he didn’t trust you, didn’t want you here.

you noticed hani out of the corner of your eye, hovering over a crate of wet clothes, her movements slow and tired. concern for her well-being overshadowed the hurt from taehyung’s comment, and you quickly moved over to her. “hey,” you said softly, placing a hand on her arm. “you should get some rest. i can hang the clothes to dry.”

she looked at you, gratitude in her eyes as she nodded. “thank you,” she whispered, her voice tinged with exhaustion. as you gathered the clothes, you could feel taehyung’s eyes on you, his gaze heavy and unyielding. you refused to meet it, focusing instead on the task at hand. hoseok, sensing the tension, turned to him, his expression puzzled.

“what’s your problem?” hoseok asked, his tone laced with curiosity and concern. taehyung shrugged, his face impassive. “i don’t trust her.”

hera’s voice was firm as she spoke up, her tone leaving no room for argument. “if we could trust anyone, it would be her.” jungkook, who had been watching the exchange from afar, smiled to himself, his gaze lingering on you as you walked away with the clothes. there was something about you that intrigued him, something that made him believe that hera was right.

as you hung the clothes to dry, you couldn’t shake the feeling of taehyung’s glare burning into your back, the weight of his distrust heavy on your shoulders. but you refused to let it break you. you were determined to prove your worth, to show them all that you were more than capable of pulling your weight. you took your time with the clothes, the fabric heavy and damp in your hands as you draped each piece over the thin wire stretched between two posts. the morning air was crisp, the kind that made your breath fog slightly, but the warmth of the rising sun began to chase away the chill. around you, the camp slowly stirred to life, the quiet sounds of people waking up blending with the natural world—a bird’s distant call, the rustle of leaves, the crackle of the dying fire from last night.

you focused on the task, trying to lose yourself in the simplicity of it, finding a strange comfort in the routine. with each piece of clothing hung, you felt a small sense of accomplishment. it was something normal, something to hold onto in the midst of everything that had become so abnormal. as you clipped the last piece of clothing to the line, the quiet of the morning was broken by the sound of footsteps behind you. you turned to see jimin and hoseok approaching, their expressions warm and inviting, a welcome contrast to the anxiety that had settled in your chest since you arrived.

“need a hand?” jimin asked, his voice soft yet cheerful, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made you feel at ease. you smiled, nodding as you handed him a damp shirt to hang. “sure, thanks.”

the three of you worked in comfortable silence for a few moments, the rhythm of the task almost meditative. jimin eventually broke the quiet, his tone casual but genuinely interested. “where’d you find the food?” he asked, glancing over at you. “i thought the stores in seoul were all cleared out.”

you paused, the memory of your frantic journey through busan flashing in your mind. you could almost smell the musty air of the abandoned store, feel the sharp edge of desperation as you grabbed whatever you could find. “i got it from busan,” you said, unable to hide a small, nostalgic smile as you thought of your hometown. jimin’s eyes widened in surprise and excitement. “no way! i’m from busan too!”

you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, the coincidence lifting your spirits. “really? i can’t believe you were so close this whole time. it feels like a lifetime ago.”

“tell me about it,” he said, shaking his head with a smile. “i used to hang out at haeundae beach all the time. do you remember the food stalls there? the tteokbokki was the best. i’d always grab some before heading to the beach.” you felt a pang of bittersweet emotion at the memory. “i used to go there with hera,” you replied, your voice softening. “it was one of our favorite spots. busan feels like a different world now, doesn’t it?”

he nodded, his expression tinged with a similar sadness, but also a shared understanding. “yeah, it does. but it’s nice to meet someone who knows that world, you know?” hoseok, who had been quietly working beside you, couldn’t resist adding his own thoughts. he grinned widely, his bright energy a welcome contrast to the bleakness of your situation. “it must be fate that you two found each other here.”

you smiled at the thought, the idea of fate bringing a flicker of hope to your heart. but before you could respond, another voice, colder and sharper, interrupted the moment. “what must be fate?” taehyung’s voice was laced with suspicion, his eyes narrowing as he approached, his posture tense and guarded. he leaned casually against the fence, but there was nothing relaxed about the way he looked at you, his gaze sharp and calculating.

hoseok turned to him with a lighthearted tone, trying to defuse the tension. “(y/n) and jimin both coming from busan,” he explained, his smile genuine as if hoping to include taehyung in the conversation. but he didn’t soften. instead, his lips twisted into a grimace as he folded his arms across his chest. “maybe you should think about going back to busan then,” he suggested, his words carrying a harsh edge.

jimin’s brow furrowed in confusion, his cheerful demeanor dimming slightly as he looked at taehyung. “why would she do that?” he asked, genuinely perplexed. “there’s not enough food to go around for all of us,” taehyung replied, his tone icy as he shifted his gaze back to you. “might as well save everyone the trouble.”

his words stung, cutting through the tentative sense of belonging you’d started to feel. you wanted to defend yourself, to remind him that you’d brought food too, but before you could speak, hoseok beat you to it. “the food from last night was what (y/n) brought,” he said firmly, his usual bright demeanor replaced with a rare seriousness as he stood up for you.

taehyung’s eyes flashed with irritation, and he opened his mouth to retort, but before he could get a word out, another voice cut through the tension. “do you ever know when to shut your mouth?” jungkook’s voice was low and hard as he approached, his gaze fixed on taehyung with an intensity that made the air around you seem heavier.

he scoffed, straightening up as he turned to face jungkook, his stance challenging. “if you want to starve, be my guest,” he snapped, his voice dripping with disdain. the confrontation between them was thick with unspoken challenges, the tension palpable. you felt caught in the middle, your heart pounding in your chest as the situation escalated. without thinking, you spoke up, trying to find a solution that wouldn’t lead to more conflict.

“i could make a run to busan,” you offered, your voice steady despite the uncertainty you felt. “get more supplies.”

jimin and hoseok both looked at you with concern, their expressions showing they didn’t think it was a good idea. jimin was the first to voice his worries. “it’s too dangerous,” he said, his voice soft but firm. but taehyung decided to play the contrarian, nodding in approval. “good idea. at least someone’s thinking,” he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

before you could respond, jungkook stepped in, his tone leaving no room for argument. “you’re not going alone.” you turned to him, your eyes meeting his. “i can handle it,” you insisted, not wanting to seem weak or incapable.

but he shook his head, his expression unwavering. “i’m going with you.” taehyung, who had been watching the exchange with a growing smirk, leaned in closer, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “congrats, (y/n). you’ve got a knight in shining armor.” he shot jungkook a mocking look before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving the rest of you in an awkward silence.

you watched him go, feeling a mix of frustration and anger, but also confusion. taehyung’s hostility was baffling, but jungkook’s presence beside you was a source of comfort, grounding you in the midst of the the unexpected tension. when you looked back at him, his expression softened slightly, and there was an understanding in his eyes—a silent promise that he wouldn’t let you face whatever was out there alone.

“don’t let him get to you,” he said quietly, his voice breaking through the tension. he glanced in the direction taehyung had gone, then back at you. “some people just don’t know how to deal with what’s happening.” you nodded, appreciating his words, though the sting of taehyung’s attitude still lingered. “thanks,” you murmured, feeling a bit more at ease knowing he had your back. you expected survival to be your biggest concern, the creatures of the undead lurking in the woods. you had second-guessed just how much other people would be a bother.

the camp was alive with the sounds of morning—rustling leaves, distant birdsong, and the gentle murmur of conversations as everyone began their day. you felt a sense of quiet determination as you and jungkook moved toward hani, who was sitting by the fire with hera. the warmth of the flames contrasted with the cool morning air, and the smell of roasting rabbit still lingered in the air from breakfast.

he caught hani’s eye first, his expression serious but calm. “hani,” he began, his voice soft yet firm, “(y/n) and i are planning to make a run to busan for more supplies.” her brow furrowed slightly, weariness etched into the lines of her face. the life of survival had worn on all of you, but for hani, who carried so much of the group's burdens, it showed the most. her lips pressed into a thin line, concern flashing in her eyes. “busan? that’s a dangerous trip. are you sure it’s worth the risk?”

before you could respond, hera’s small voice cut through the conversation, her eyes wide with fear as she realized what was being discussed. “no,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she rushed to your side. her tiny arms wrapped around your waist, clutching you tightly. “don’t go, please don’t go. what if something happens to you?” her plea was like a knife to your heart, the sheer desperation in her voice almost breaking your resolve. you felt her trembling against you, and your heart ached with the weight of her fear. slowly, you crouched down so that you were at eye level with her, gently taking her small hands in yours.

“hera,” you said softly, your voice filled with warmth and reassurance, “nothing is going to happen to me. i promise.” you smiled, trying to infuse your words with as much confidence as you could muster, though the uncertainty of the world loomed over you like a shadow. she shook her head, her lower lip trembling as she clung to you even tighter. “but what if, what if something bad happens?” her eyes, wide and innocent, searched yours for any sign of doubt.

you felt your throat tighten as you pulled her into your arms, holding her close as if to shield her from the harsh realities of the world around you. “i’ll be back before sundown,” you whispered into her hair, smoothing it down with one hand. “and i’ll bring back lots of food and supplies. we’ll be safe, i promise.” her tiny arms wrapped around your neck, and she buried her face in your shoulder, refusing to let go. the warmth of her embrace filled you with both a sense of responsibility and a fierce determination to keep your word.

as you held her, you became aware of the others watching. hani’s expression softened, the worry still present but mixed with a reluctant acceptance. she knew better than anyone the risks of this new world, but she also understood the necessity of your mission. hoseok offered you a supportive nod, his usual bright energy subdued but still present in the way he smiled at the two of you. jimin stood a little ways off, his eyes gentle as he observed the scene, a silent reassurance in his gaze. even jungkook, who had been standing quietly beside you, had a softness in his expression as he watched hera cling to you. taehyung remained distant, his gaze averted as if unwilling to witness the emotional exchange. his aloofness cut through the warmth of the moment, a cold reminder that not everyone in the group trusted you yet. it stung, but you tried to push the thought aside. there were more important things to focus on right now.

finally, jungkook stepped forward, crouching down beside you and hera. he reached out, gently brushing a stray tear from her cheek with the back of his hand. “i’ll take good care of her, hera,” he promised, his voice gentle but steady. “i won’t let anything happen to her.” your heart fluttered at his words, the sincerity in his tone wrapping around you like a protective blanket. the way he looked at your sister, with such care and affection, only deepened the growing warmth in your chest. he was a natural protector, and in that moment, you felt an undeniable sense of trust in him—something that wasn’t easy to come by in these times.

hera pulled back slightly, her teary eyes flicking between you and jungkook. “promise?” she asked, her voice small and full of hope. he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he nodded. “i promise.” she hesitated for a moment, her grip on you still firm, but the conviction in jungkook’s voice seemed to ease her fears. slowly, she nodded, though she still clung to you as if letting go meant losing you forever. you hugged her once more, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before finally standing up.

“we’ll be back before you know it,” you said, trying to keep your tone light and reassuring, even as the weight of the task ahead pressed down on you. she nodded again, her small hand slipping into yours as if needing that last bit of connection before you left. you gave it a gentle squeeze, hoping to convey through that simple touch all the love and protection you felt for her.

the preparations for your journey were swift but thorough, the weight of the task ahead pressing on everyone’s mind. as the group saw you and jungkook off, the air was thick with a mix of concern and hope. hera held onto your hand until the very last second, her grip tight as if willing you to stay. you gave her one final, reassuring smile before you and jungkook turned toward the horses tied up near the edge of camp.

the horses were strong and sturdy, their coats gleaming under the pale morning light. you approached one, a deep brown mare with a calm demeanor, while jungkook untied her reins. he patted her neck, murmuring something under his breath that seemed to soothe her. the animal’s large, gentle eyes met yours, and you felt a pang of nervousness at the thought of riding again after so long. the last time you’d ridden a horse was before everything had fallen apart—when the world was still whole, still recognizable.

jungkook must have noticed the hesitation in your eyes because he glanced back at you with a small, reassuring smile. “don’t worry, she’s a good horse,” he said, his voice steady. “she’ll take care of us.” you nodded, swallowing down the nerves as you approached the mare. he swung up into the saddle first, his movements fluid and practiced. he turned, extending a hand down to you. you hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand in his, the warmth of his grip steadying your resolve. with a firm tug, he helped you up, guiding you to settle in front of him on the saddle.

the moment you were seated, you realized just how close the two of you were. your back was pressed against jungkook’s chest, his arms on either side of you as he held the reins. his presence was warm and solid, a comforting contrast to the cold uncertainty of the world around you. you tried to focus on the task, but the feeling of his body against yours was impossible to ignore. “comfortable?” he asked, his voice low and close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. you nodded, your throat suddenly dry. “yeah, i’m good.”

he chuckled softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “hold on tight, just in case.” taking his advice, you reached up and gripped the edge of the saddle, but it felt inadequate. there was still a small part of you that was uneasy, the fear of falling gnawing at the back of your mind. sensing your discomfort, he shifted slightly, adjusting his grip on the reins with one hand while the other came to rest gently on your waist. “this might be easier,” he murmured, his voice warm against your ear.

the gentle weight of his hand at your waist was both comforting and distracting. you nodded again, feeling your cheeks heat up, and then the horse began to move, her steps smooth and deliberate as she set off on the path toward busan. the journey started quietly, the sound of the horse’s hooves against the dirt path the only thing breaking the morning’s stillness. the trees overhead were thick with leaves, their branches arching across the path to create a tunnel of green that filtered the sunlight into soft, dappled patterns on the ground. the air was cool, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant wildflowers, a small reminder of the beauty that still existed in the world, despite everything.

jungkook guided the horse with practiced ease, his movements confident and sure. you focused on the rhythmic sway of the horse beneath you, the steady rise and fall that made you feel like you were part of the landscape, moving in sync with the world around you. the unease you had felt earlier began to melt away, replaced by a sense of calm as you became accustomed to the ride. the forest around you was alive with the quiet sounds of nature—birds singing, leaves rustling in the breeze, and the occasional crack of a twig underfoot. as you traveled deeper into the woods, the path grew narrower, the trees denser. you felt the brush of branches against your arms and legs as the horse navigated the increasingly rugged terrain.

after some time, the gentle motion and the warmth of jungkook behind you began to lull you into a sense of drowsiness. you fought it at first, determined to stay alert, but the early morning and the stress of the past few days had taken their toll. your eyelids grew heavy, the sounds of the forest fading into the background as your mind began to drift. “hey,” jungkook’s voice cut through the haze of sleep, gentle but amused. “you’re not falling asleep on me, are you?”

you blinked, startled by how close you had come to dozing off. you hadn’t realized how much you had relaxed into him until now, your head resting lightly against his shoulder. embarrassed, you straightened up, trying to shake off the drowsiness. “sorry,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “didn’t mean to.” jungkook’s laughter was soft and good-natured. “it’s okay. you’ve been through a lot. i don’t mind being a pillow.”

despite the situation, you couldn’t help but smile at his teasing tone. “a comfortable pillow, i gotta add.” he chuckled again, the sound warming the chilly air around you. “well, go ahead and rest if you need to. we’ve still got a long way to go.” you considered his offer, the temptation to give in to the exhaustion pulling at you. but part of you didn’t want to let your guard down completely, not when you were on a mission as important as this. still, the comfort of the ride and the safety you felt in his presence made it hard to resist.

eventually, you let your head rest against his shoulder once more, the steady rhythm of the horse’s gait and the rise and fall of jungkook’s breathing lulling you into a light sleep. you drifted in and out of consciousness, the sounds of the forest and the warmth of his body blurring together into a comforting haze. by the time you woke again, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting long shadows on the path ahead. you sat up, blinking the sleep from your eyes as you took in your surroundings.

the trees had thinned out, giving way to the remnants of civilization. the outskirts of busan were visible in the distance, a contrast to the natural beauty of the forest. buildings stood like skeletons, their once bustling interiors now empty and crumbling. the streets, once filled with life, were eerily silent, devoid of any movement save for the occasional rustle of debris caught in the wind. jungkook felt you stir and glanced down at you with a small smile. “welcome back. you were out for a while.”

“sorry,” you said again, feeling a little guilty for leaving him to handle the journey alone. “did i miss anything?” he shook his head. “just a lot of trees and silence. figured you needed the rest more than i needed the company.” you appreciated his thoughtfulness, though you couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for falling asleep when you should have been alert. as the horse continued forward, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the city ahead. seoul’s skyline, once towering and majestic, was now broken and hollow, a ghost of its former self.

“this place used to be so full of life,” you murmured, the weight of what had been lost settling heavily in your chest. “yeah,” he agreed, his voice tinged with a sadness that matched your own. “hard to believe it’s the same city.” as you drew closer to seoul’s main point, the atmosphere shifted. the air grew thicker, more oppressive, as if the city itself was holding its breath. the closer you got, the more the reality of what you were about to face set in. the city was a dangerous place, filled with the remnants of people who hadn’t made it through the catastrophe. and worse still, the possibility of encountering skinwalkers loomed over you like a dark cloud.

jungkook must have sensed your unease because he adjusted his hold on the reins and leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your ear. “we’ll be okay. we just need to be careful.” you nodded, taking comfort in his calm demeanor. he had been through this before—navigating the ruins of the old world, facing the dangers that lurked within. his experience and confidence were something you could rely on, even as the fear gnawed at the edges of your mind.

the horse came to a stop as you reached the edge of the city. the streets were deserted, littered with debris and the remnants of lives long abandoned. the silence was oppressive, broken only by the distant sound of something creaking in the wind. jungkook dismounted first, his movements quiet and deliberate as he surveyed the area. after a moment, he turned and extended a hand to you. “ready?”

taking a deep breath, you accepted his hand and slid down from the horse, your feet hitting the ground with a soft thud. you felt a rush of nervous energy, but his steady demeanor beside you helped keep the fear at bay. “let’s find what we need and get out of here,” he said, his voice low but firm. you nodded in agreement, your eyes scanning the deserted streets. the stakes were high, but it would make all the difference to the group.

the streets of busan were as desolate as you remembered, each step echoing through the emptiness that surrounded you and jungkook. the buildings, once towering and majestic, now stood as mere husks of their former selves, looming like ghosts over the deserted streets. as you walked side by side, you found your thoughts drifting back to a time when the city was still alive—when the streets buzzed with the sounds of life, of people going about their daily routines. it was hard to believe that such a world had ever existed, but as you glanced up at the remnants of old storefronts and cracked sidewalks, you couldn’t help but remember the way things used to be.

“this way,” you murmured, leading him down a narrow alleyway that branched off from the main road. the alley was overgrown with weeds and littered with debris, but you knew this path like the back of your hand. ot was one of the few places in the city that held any semblance of familiarity, a relic of your childhood that had somehow survived the chaos.

as you walked, you found yourself sharing memories of the past with jungkook, your voice soft in the quiet of the alley. “i used to come here with hera when we were kids. there was this little convenience store at the end of the alley. the owner was this old man who always had a kind word and a free candy for us.” he glanced at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “sounds like a nice guy. surprised the store’s still standing after everything that’s happened.”

you nodded, the nostalgia settling over you like a warm blanket. “it’s one of the few places in the city that feels untouched, i guess. like a little piece of the past that’s still here, even when everything else is gone.” he hummed in agreement, his gaze shifting to the end of the alley where the store’s faded sign was just visible. as you neared the store, the tension in your shoulders eased slightly. despite the danger that loomed over every corner of the city, this place still held a certain safety for you—a sanctuary in the midst of the madness. jungkook broke the silence with a sudden, wistful sigh. “you know, i’d kill for a cigarette right now.”

the mention of cigarettes jolted something in your memory. you came to an abrupt stop, causing jungkook to glance at you in confusion. “what’s wrong?” without a word, you reached into your back pocket and pulled out the small, crumpled box of cigarettes you had picked up during your previous scavenging run. you had completely forgotten about them until now, the memory of stuffing them into your pocket slipping your mind amidst all the chaos.

his eyes widened as he caught sight of the box, a look of disbelief crossing his face. “i can’t believe you’ve been hiding these this whole time.” a guilty smile tugged at your lips as you shook your head. “i swear it wasn’t intentional. just forgot.”

he let out a soft laugh, his tension easing as he reached for the box. “forgot, huh? well, you just made my day.” you handed him a cigarette, along with a lighter, watching as he eagerly lit it up. the tension practically melted off his face as he took his first drag, his eyes closing in satisfaction. to your surprise, after lighting his own cigarette, he turned to you and held the flame up to your own. you hesitated for only a moment before leaning in, letting him light it for you.

“thanks,” you murmured, taking a drag and savoring the familiar taste of tobacco. it had been so long since you’d had one, the sensation was almost surreal. “no problem,” he replied, his voice lighter, more relaxed now that he had a cigarette in hand. the two of you began walking again, side by side, the smoke curling into the air above your heads as you continued down the alley.

“so,” he began after a moment of comfortable silence, “you and hera used to come here a lot?”

“yeah,” you replied, smiling at the memory. “it was our favorite spot. we’d save up our pocket money and come here to buy candy and snacks. the owner, mister kim, always gave us a little extra, just because he liked us.” jungkook nodded, a hint of wistfulness in his eyes. “aounds like a good guy. must’ve been nice, having a place like that.”

“it was,” you agreed softly. “it made us feel safe. like no matter what was going on in the world, we had this one little corner that was ours.” you walked in companionable silence for a while, the memories of your childhood warming you from the inside out. as you neared the store, you could see that it had changed very little since the last time you were there. the sign was faded and the windows were cracked, but it was still standing—still the same little store that had been a refuge for you and hera all those years ago.

jungkook paused as you approached the entrance, glancing at the old, weathered sign with a curious expression. “this is it?” you nodded, feeling a surge of nostalgia as you pushed open the door. the familiar creak of the hinges greeted you, the smell of dust and old wood filling your senses as you stepped inside. the store was dimly lit, the shelves mostly bare, but it still felt like a small piece of home.

“i’ll grab some food and water,” you said, breaking the silence as you pulled a bag from your shoulder. “you take whatever you can find. we’ll meet back here in a few minutes.” jungkook nodded in agreement, already scanning the shelves for supplies. as you made your way down the aisles, you couldn’t help but marvel at how little had changed. the store was nearly empty, but the layout was exactly as you remembered it—the same rows of shelves, the same old wooden counter at the back. It was as if time had stopped within these walls, preserving a piece of the past for you to find.

you picked out another bag from behind the counter, just as you had done with hera all those years ago, and began filling it with whatever canned goods and water you could find. the work was methodical, almost calming, as you focused on gathering what you needed. you could hear jungkook moving through the aisles behind you, the soft thuds of items being placed into his own bag. suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the store, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. your heart lurched in your chest as you spun around, dropping the can of beans you had just picked up. Without a second thought, you sprinted toward the source of the noise, your breath catching in your throat.

as you rounded the corner, you saw jungkook on the ground, a look of shock and horror on his face as a figure loomed over him. the creature—because it was no longer human—towered over him, its eyes glowing a menacing red, its mouth twisted into a snarl. it was a skinwalker, its human features barely masking the monster beneath. panic surged through you, but you didn’t hesitate. with a surge of adrenaline, you rushed forward, locking an arm around the creature’s neck and yanking it off jungkook with all your strength. the creature hissed and thrashed, but you held on, your other hand reaching for the knife at your belt. with a swift, practiced motion, you drove the blade into its throat, the force of the strike sending a spray of dark, viscous blood across the floor.

for a split second, you feared that you had acted too rashly—what if it had been a human? but as the creature dropped to the ground, its eyes flashing red before it finally stopped moving, you knew that you had made the right choice. jungkook scrambled to his feet, breathing heavily as he glanced down at the now lifeless body. “holy shit,” he muttered, brushing the dust off his clothes. “you saved my ass.”

you couldn’t help but smile, despite the lingering fear in your chest. “hera,” you began, mimicking his earlier words with a teasing grin, “i’ll protect her.” he rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of amusement in his expression. “it caught me off guard.”

his gaze shifted to the body at his feet, his expression darkening as he crouched beside it. before you could ask what he was doing, he reached for your knife, his fingers curling around the handle with a grim determination. “you have to finish it off,” he said quietly, his voice laced with something you couldn’t quite place. and then, to your shock, he drove the knife into the creature’s head with a sickening crunch. “they never fully die unless you get the brain.”

the cruelty of the act made your skin crawl, but you couldn’t deny that he was right. the world you lived in now demanded such harsh measures—measures that were necessary for survival, even if they made you feel sick to your stomach. as you tried to shake off the unease, your gaze shifted to the aisle jungkook had been in. a quiet laugh bubbled up from your chest as you saw the box of condoms lying on the floor, the likely cause of the crash.

“what were you looking for over here?” you asked, your tone teasing as you pointed to the box. he glanced down, and to your amusement, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “i might need them at some point,” he mumbled, quickly stuffing the box into his bag as if hoping you hadn’t seen.

you raised an eyebrow, your grin widening as you caught the flustered look on jungkook’s face. his sudden bashfulness was a contrast to the confident, almost unshakeable demeanor he usually carried. the idea of him, out of all people, getting embarrassed over something as trivial as condoms made the situation all the more amusing. “need them at some point, huh?” you teased, tilting your head as you tried to catch his eye. “do you have a girlfriend stashed away somewhere that i don’t know about?”

jungkook finally met your gaze, and you could see a flicker of something mischievous in his eyes, though his cheeks were still tinged with that same boyish pink. he let out a soft chuckle, shrugging as if to shake off the embarrassment. “not yet,” he said, his voice carrying a teasing lilt. “but you never know when you might get lucky.” you rolled your eyes playfully, though you couldn’t help the slight warmth that spread through your chest at his words. he was flirting—lightly, but it was still there, lingering in the space between you like an unspoken possibility. you couldn’t quite tell if he was being serious or just trying to deflect the awkwardness of the situation, but either way, it was enough to make your own cheeks heat up.

jungkook’s eyes glinted with something unreadable as he prepared to remount his horse. you adjusted yourself, the strain of the long day suddenly hitting you with a wave of weariness. despite the comfort he offered with his presence, the lingering memory of his earlier remark about needing condoms made your cheeks flush involuntarily. the implications of that comment buzzed persistently in the back of your mind, and you tried to push them away as you gathered your composure.

“ready to head back?” his voice brought you back to the present. he was seated on his horse, looking at you with a casual yet attentive gaze. you forced yourself to nod, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “yeah, let’s go.” the two of you mounted the horse once more, and as you started riding, the rhythm of the horse’s steady gait beneath you began to soothe your frazzled nerves. the sun was in the sky, casting long, golden shadows over the deserted landscape. the air was cool, a welcome relief from the heat of the day, and you found yourself falling into a contemplative silence, your thoughts wandering as the miles of road stretched out before you.

jungkook’s earlier smirk lingered in your memory, and the memory of his flustered reaction when he revealed the condoms made your heart skip a beat. you caught yourself glancing over at him frequently, the way the fading sunlight highlighted the angles of his face, the way his eyes sometimes met yours with that playful glint. it was impossible not to think about what lay beneath the surface of those moments, to wonder if there was something more to his teasing.

as you neared seoul, a faint silhouette of a bar emerged in the distance. it was a solitary structure, seemingly untouched by the chaos that had engulfed the world. jungkook’s gaze followed yours, and he suddenly reined in his horse, bringing her to a halt. “hey, how about we stop there for a drink?” he suggested, pointing toward the bar with a casual nod. the sun was still hanging in the sky, its last light painting the horizon in shades of pink and orange. you looked at the bar, then back at him, a spark of curiosity igniting within you. “a drink? sounds like a good idea. we could use a break.”

he nodded approvingly and guided his horse toward the bar. you relaxed, the horse’s hooves clattering softly against the cracked pavement as you approached. he tied her to a nearby post and you both dismounted, the evening air cooler now that the sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky. the bar’s door creaked as you pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit interior. dust motes danced in the narrow beams of light that filtered through the grimy windows. the bar was exactly as you had expected—completely abandoned, with a thick layer of dust covering every surface. bottles of alcohol lined the shelves behind the bar, their labels faded and worn.

jungkook made his way behind the bar, his movements fluid and confident. he retrieved a bottle of whiskey and began to pour two glasses, the amber liquid catching the light in a rich, golden hue. you took a seat at the bar, watching as he expertly filled the glasses. “you know,” you said, trying to break the silence that had settled between you, “whiskey is such a male drink. i thought maybe you’d go for something a bit lighter.”

he scoffed, a teasing smile playing at his lips. “oh, so you’re used to soju bombs, are you? guess you haven’t had the pleasure of a good whiskey then.” you raised an eyebrow, your competitive spirit flaring up. “i bet i can drink more whiskey than you.”

jungkook’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he held up his glass in a mock toast. “you’re on. the bottle’s full, so it must be fate.” you clinked your glasses together, the sound ringing out in the empty bar, and took your first gulp. the whiskey burned pleasantly as it slid down your throat, a warming sensation spreading through you. you could feel the alcohol working its way into your system, dulling the edges of your fatigue and sharpening the edge of the challenge.

the two of you drank steadily, the glasses being refilled with practiced ease. the whiskey’s rich flavor grew stronger with each sip, and you both laughed and bantered, the earlier tension slowly dissipating. the initial competitive edge softened into a more relaxed camaraderie, though neither of you were willing to concede defeat.

hours passed in a blur of alcohol and laughter, the room growing dimmer as the night progressed. you both reached a point where even the act of lifting the glass seemed like an effort, the whiskey taking its toll on your senses. the bottle was nearly empty, and both of you were feeling the effects of the alcohol, your laughter becoming more carefree and your movements more languid. jungkook finally leaned back, his face flushed from the drink, and held up his glass in a final toast. “i think we can call it a tie,” he said with a grin, his voice slightly slurred but still cheerful. you nodded, your head spinning pleasantly as you set your glass down. “tie it is,” you agreed, your own voice feeling a bit unsteady.

with the competition settled, a comfortable silence settled between you. jungkook looked over at you, his expression softening as he took in the sight of you, sitting there with a tipsy smile on your face. “so,” you said, trying to sound casual as you leaned against the bar, “what did you mean earlier with the condoms? were you serious or just messing around?”

jungkook scratched the back of his neck, his expression thoughtful. “i’m not really sure. it was just something that came to mind.” you raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile on your lips. “i think you were being serious.”

he brushed off the comment with a wave of his hand. “maybe. or maybe i was just trying to be funny.” you leaned in closer, your heart pounding in your chest. the alcohol had loosened your inhibitions, and you found yourself closing the distance between you and jungkook, your breath mingling with his. “i think you weren't,” you whispered, your voice low and soft. his breath hitched, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of surprise and something else—something that was unmistakably desire. the space between you seemed to shrink until there was nothing left but the two of you and the charged air that surrounded you.

without another word, jungkook closed the distance, his lips crashing against yours in a heated, passionate kiss. it was sudden and intense, a mix of urgency and raw emotion that took you by surprise. his lips were warm and insistent, moving against yours with a fervor that left you breathless. you melted into the kiss, your body responding instinctively as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. the taste of whiskey lingered on his lips, mingling with the sweetness of his breath. the kiss deepened, his hands finding their way to your waist, holding you firmly as he pressed you against the bar. you weren't exactly sure what pushed you to do it, maybe it was the sheer fact that the world had come to an end. the world had ended, yet you two remained. maybe it really was fate.

his hands began to wander, slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your back. you gasped into his mouth, arching into his touch as he pulled you closer. the friction between your bodies grew more pronounced as the kiss grew hungrier, his tongue tracing the line of your lower lip before delving into your mouth. his touch was gentle, almost reverent, and you felt your own desire beginning to build, a slow burn that spread through your body like wildfire. you broke the kiss, panting softly, your eyes searching his for any sign of hesitation. jungkook's gaze was filled with a raw, unbridled passion that left no room for doubt. “i want you,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “please, let me have you.”

you nodded, your own voice a whisper. “take me, have me.” it was truly all he needed to hear. his hands moved to the buttons of your shirt, deftly unbuttoning them one by one. your heart raced as he peeled it off, revealing your clothed tits. neither of you had attire on that would make a lasting impression, but neither of you seemed to care. his eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive skin of your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine. “you really are pretty,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

you felt his hands move to the clasp of your bra, his fingers fumbling slightly with the unfamiliar mechanism. with a soft chuckle, you reached around and unhooked it yourself, letting the fabric fall away to reveal your bare tits. jungkook's eyes widened with awe, and he leaned in to kiss and nibble at your neck, making his way down to your chest. his mouth found your nipples, his teeth grazing against the sensitive flesh, allowing you to moan and arch into his touch.

his hands moved to cup your tits, his thumbs circling the stiff peaks as he continued to kiss and suckle. the sensation was overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure through your body. it had been a long time since you had done anything of the sort, and you could feel yourself growing wetter with every touch, your arousal building to a crescendo. “you like that?” he asked, his voice gruff and needy. you nodded, unable to form coherent words. “yes,” you managed to gasp out. “please don't stop.”

his hands slid down to your pants, unbuttoning them with the same urgent need. you stepped out of them, leaving you in just your underwear. jungkook took a step back, his eyes roaming over your body with an intensity that made you feel both exposed and desired. “i need to tell you something,” he said, his voice shaking slightly. “i've never done this before.”

you blinked in surprise. “you're a virgin?” he nodded, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. “yes,” he whispered. “but i want it to be with you.”

your heart swelled with affection and lust. “it's okay,” you assured him, taking his hand and leading him to a nearby table. “i'll make it good for you.” the world had ended, there was no reason not to. you didn't want to grow attached, you didn't want to attach yourself and love him during such a time, knowing he could slip away at any moment. but this was acceptable, you could let yourself have just the slightest of fun.

you sat on the edge of the table, your legs spread wide as jungkook stepped closer, his eyes locked onto yours. his hands found your panties, and with trembling fingers, he slid them down your legs. your breath caught in your throat as he knelt before you, his eyes traveling from your face to the apex of your thighs. “oh, fuck. you're so wet,” he murmured, his voice filled with wonder. you nodded, your voice a low moan. “touch me.”

his hands moved to your thighs, his fingers sliding up the soft skin before finally reaching your folds. he explored you tentatively, his touch feather-light as he traced your slit. you bit your lip, trying to keep the sounds of pleasure at bay. “like this?” he asked, his eyes searching yours for approval. you nodded, your voice a breathy whisper. “yes.”

his touch grew bolder, his fingers delving deeper, teasing your clit before sliding inside you. you threw your head back, the sensation of him filling you making you feel complete. “you're so tight,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “i don't wanna hurt you.” you reached down, taking his face in your hands. “you won't,” you assured him, your voice thick with desire. “just go slow.”

he nodded, his eyes never leaving yours as he slid one finger into your slick warmth, then two, moving them in a gentle rhythm that had your hips rocking against his hand. your moans grew louder, filling the empty bar with the sweet symphony of pleasure. his thumb found your clit, and he began to rub it in tight circles, his eyes watching as your expression grew more and more ecstatic. “you're so perfect,” he murmured, his voice filled with reverence. his movements grew more confident as he felt your body responding to his touch. your legs began to tremble, and you knew you were close to the edge. “right there,” you gasped, your voice strained. “don't stop.”

his fingers moved in a steady rhythm, his thumb pressing down with just the right amount of pressure as he continued to whisper dirty words into your ear. “you're gonna cum for me, aren't you?” he said, his voice low and rough. “you're gonna moan my name, yeah?” you could only nod, unable to form the right words as the orgasm built within you. jungkook leaned in, his mouth finding your nipple once again as he quickened his pace. the sensation was overwhelming, and with a sharp cry, you shattered, your body convulsing with pleasure. he held you through it, his gentle touch soothing you as the waves of ecstasy receded.

once your breathing had returned to normal, jungkook stood up, his eyes never leaving yours. “it's your turn,” you said, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. you slid off the table, pushing him down onto it instead. he watched as you unbuckled his pants, his eyes wide with anticipation. you could see his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers, the tip of it leaking enough to leave a stain, and your mouth watered at the sight.

you pulled his boxers down, his cock springing free. it was thick and long, the head a dark, angry red with need. “wow,” you murmured, genuinely impressed. jungkook blushed, his cheeks reddening even further. “i've never had anyone look at me like that before.” you leaned in, your breath hot against his skin as you took him in your mouth. his moan was music to your ears, and you began to suck, your tongue swirling around the tip as you took him deeper. his hands found your hair, gripping it tightly as he thrust his hips upwards, his body responding instinctively to the pleasure you were giving him.

you could feel his cock twitch and throb with every suck and lick, his muscles tensing as he grew closer to the edge. “i'm gonna cum,” he whimpered, his voice tight with restraint. you pulled back, giving him a wicked smile. “not yet,” you whispered, standing up to straddle him. “i wanna feel you inside me.”

you reached into his bag, pulling out one of the condoms he had bought earlier. jungkook watched with hooded eyes as you tore the packet open with your teeth and rolled it onto his erection. “are you sure?” he asked, his voice hoarse. you nodded, your eyes never leaving his. “more than anything.”

slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, feeling him stretch and fill you completely. jungkook's eyes rolled back in his head as he groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “fuck, you're so tight,” he hissed. you took a moment to adjust to the feeling, your body clenching around him. then, with a gasp, you began to ride him, your movements slow and deliberate at first, building up speed as you grew more comfortable. his hands roamed your body, cupping your tits and squeezing your ass as he whispered dirty words into your ear, urging you to go faster, harder.

the friction between your bodies grew intense, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the bar. his grip tightened, his hips bucking up to meet yours as he reached his own climax, his body taut with pleasure. for a second, you wished he hadn't been so quick to buy the condoms, but it was the safer route. it was the route that assured you both you wouldn't be bringing any more children into the mess that claimed the world. it didn't matter, not with that look on his face. the gaping of his mouth, his eyes rolling into the back of his head with his hair plastered to his forehead. you had ruined him, and he had never been more grateful.

you collapsed onto him, your chest heaving as you both tried to catch your breath. his voice was a mix of satisfaction and disbelief. “that was—” he trailed off, unable to find the words to describe the intensity of the experience. you smiled, feeling a sense of pride in the way you had brought him to such a powerful release. “are you okay?” you asked, peeling yourself off of him gently. he nodded, his eyes still closed as he savored the feeling. “better than okay,” he murmured. “that was amazing.”

you chuckled, the sound echoing in the quiet bar. “you're not so bad for a first-timer,” you teased, leaning in to kiss him softly. his eyes snapped open, a mischievous glint in them. “you think?” he said, his voice low and playful. “maybe we should practice some more.”

you rolled your eyes, but the idea was tempting. the chemistry between you was palpable, and the desire hadn't waned even after the intense climax. “maybe we should get going,” you suggested, glancing out the window at the darkened sky. “it's getting late.” jungkook nodded reluctantly, his arms still wrapped around your waist. “yeah, we should.” he opened his eyes and looked around the room, the reality of their situation crashing back down on him.

the ride back to seoul was quiet, the rhythmic clip-clop of the horse’s hooves the only sound as you and jungkook traveled through the darkening landscape. the cool night air was a stark contrast to the warmth you had shared earlier, and your thoughts churned restlessly, replaying the intensity of the everything that had gone down, the sudden shift in your feelings. jungkook rode with a steady, focused demeanor, his presence a comforting anchor against the backdrop of the encroaching night.

the distant growling began as a faint, unsettling noise, like a distant echo of something primal and hungry. you exchanged a worried glance with him, but he merely tightened his grip on the reins and urged the horse onward. you both chose to ignore it, hoping it was merely the result of your overactive imaginations and the eerie quiet of the world that had fallen into disarray. as you approached the campsite, the familiar shapes of the makeshift shelters and tents came into view, their silhouettes dark against the twilight sky. jungkook guided the horse through the gate, and you dismounted with a sense of relief that you had made it back safely.

“we’re back,” jungkook called out as you both entered the campsite. hani’s face lit up with a mixture of joy and relief as she spotted you. “you’re back! thank god!” she rushed over, her eyes wide with gratitude.

jimin, too, looked visibly relieved, though his face was a mask of exhaustion. “you made it. i was getting worried.” taehyung, however, remained unfazed, his expression impassive as he observed the scene. his indifference only served to heighten your anxiety as you noticed the tension in the air.

hoseok emerged from one of the tents, holding hera’s small hand in his own. the sight of her, safe and sound, was a balm to your worried heart. but before you could fully relax, a guttural, menacing snarl cut through the evening air. the sound was unmistakably close, and a cold knot of fear tightened in your stomach. you turned to jungkook, panic rising in your chest. “we need to arm everyone.” his face hardened with urgency as he nodded. “get everyone ready.”

you dashed around the campsite, shouting instructions and grabbing weapons. the atmosphere was charged with tension as people scrambled to arm themselves, their faces mirroring your own fear. your eyes darted around, trying to assess the situation and protect those you cared about. but it was already too late. from the shadows emerged a horde of grotesque, nightmarish creatures, their forms twisted and deformed. they moved with a terrifying speed and hunger, their eyes glowing with malevolent intent. the campsite erupted into chaos as the creatures lunged forward, their growls and shrieks filling the air.

you shouted commands, urging everyone to defend themselves, but the creatures showed no mercy. the battle was brutal and swift. amid the confusion, you spotted hera, her small frame trembling as she looked around in terror. your heart ached with a primal urge to protect her. as you tried to reach her, a creature—larger and more vicious than the rest—seized her, pinning her to the ground with a savage grip. your breath caught in your throat as you saw its fangs sink into her throat. the sight was a gut-wrenching horror that rendered you momentarily paralyzed, your body frozen in shock.

hera’s eyes met yours, wide and filled with a silent, desperate plea. her mouth moved, forming a wordless scream as the creature ripped her throat open. blood poured from her wound, staining the dirt beneath her. the sound of her choking, gasping breaths was the only thing you could focus on, and you felt as though time had stopped. tears streamed down your face as you finally broke free from your paralysis. you scrambled toward her, your movements frantic and disoriented. the world around you seemed to blur as you tried to reach her, but the reality of her injury was too harsh, too immediate.

the creature was still there, its grotesque form looming over hera’s bleeding body. with a surge of desperation, you raised your gun and fired, the shot ringing out sharply. the creature’s head jerked back, its body convulsing before collapsing lifelessly. the noise of gunfire and the dying howls of the creatures were all that punctuated the silence that followed. the campsite fell eerily quiet, everyone pausing to process the horrifying scene. your eyes remained locked on hera’s dying form, her body growing still. the sight of her lying there, the sister you had fought so hard to find, was a brutal twist of fate.

hani was sobbing uncontrollably, her cries echoing the agony you felt inside. even taehyung, usually so composed, had turned his back, unable to watch the tragedy unfold. the world seemed to collapse around you as you knelt beside hera, your hands trembling as you fumbled with your medical supplies. “help me,” you pleaded, your voice cracking as you reached out for the medicine.

jungkook was quick to respond, his own eyes red-rimmed with tears as he brought the supplies to you. the urgency of the moment did nothing to calm your frayed nerves. you worked frantically, tearing open gauze and pouring rubbing alcohol, but deep down, you knew it was too late. hera’s hand weakly grasped yours, her gaze meeting yours with a mixture of sadness and resignation. “stop,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “it’s too late.”

you refused to accept it, your hands continuing to work despite the futility of the task. “no, baby. we can’t give up. i’m here. i’m here with you.”

her eyes were glazed with pain and exhaustion. her breaths were shallow, and she struggled to keep her eyes open. “i love you,” she said, her voice barely a breath. “i’m glad you found me.”

tears streamed down your face as you brushed the blood and hair from her pale face. you held her close, whispering apologies and begging her to hold on. “please, hera. don’t leave me. i need you.”

she weakly shook her head, her strength waning. “kill me,” she said softly, her voice cracking with the effort. “i can’t become one of them.”

you clutched her tighter, your heart breaking at her words. “no, hera, you can’t leave me. not like this.”

with one final tear slipping down her cheek, her eyes fluttered closed. her body went limp in your arms, and you felt an overwhelming wave of despair crash over you. the finality of her death was a cruel blow, and you were left holding her lifeless body, your cries echoing through the night. jungkook tried to hold you back as you thrashed and sobbed, his own tears mingling with yours as he watched helplessly. your hands, stained with blood, covered your face and clothes as you shook her body, pleading for her to wake up.

hoseok and jimin were distraught, their faces pale and their eyes filled with anguish. hani’s sobs were inconsolable, her grief visible as she tried to comfort you. taehyung had his back turned, unable to bear the sight of the tragedy unfolding before him. in the midst of the grief, you felt as though you had lost everything. the weight of hera’s death, the cruel twist of fate, and the relentless reality of the world you were living in all combined into a suffocating darkness that threatened to swallow you whole. the campsite was silent except for the sound of your sobs and the occasional, haunting howl in the distance. you were left with nothing but the shattered remnants of your hopes and dreams, the loss of your sister, and the overwhelming sense of defeat. the world outside might have been a barren wasteland, but inside, you felt as though you were drowning in an ocean of despair.

jungkook’s voice broke through the haze of your grief, desperate and choked with tears. “please, calm down. please, i’m begging you.” his hands were on your shoulders, trembling as he tried to steady you, but your sobs were uncontrollable, your body trembling with the force of your anguish. his words were like a distant echo in your ears, barely registering over the cacophony of your own despair. you had searched for hera for so long, through countless days and sleepless nights, through blood and fear, clinging to the hope that she was still alive, that you could save her. you loved her all your life, protected her, and now, after finally finding her, she was gone. ripped away from you in the cruelest twist of fate.

“please,” he whispered again, his voice breaking. “please, just breathe.” slowly, painfully, you began to calm, though the tears continued to flow unchecked down your cheeks. the sound of your ragged breaths filled the air, the only thing grounding you to the moment. but it wasn’t enough. nothing could be enough. how could it be, when you had lost everything?

jimin’s hand on your shoulder was a gentle weight, his touch warm and full of sorrow. “i’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. his presence was meant to comfort, but instead, it only deepened the ache in your chest. the weight of your new reality began to sink in, a heavy, suffocating pressure that left you gasping for air. you looked down at hera’s lifeless body, her face pale and peaceful, as if she were merely sleeping. but the truth was undeniable. she was gone, and there was nothing you could do to change that. the sight of her, so small and fragile in your arms, made your heart shatter all over again.

with a trembling hand, you reached for your gun, the metal cold against your skin. the others watched in stunned silence, their eyes wide with shock as they realized what you were about to do. but you couldn’t let her turn into one of those things, the very creatures that had stolen her life. you held the gun in both hands, your fingers shaking as you aimed it at her head. time seemed to slow, each breath you took feeling like it could be your last. the silence was deafening, every sound muffled by the pounding of your heart in your ears.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking with the weight of your sorrow. “i’m so sorry, baby.” and then, with a sharp intake of breath, you pulled the trigger.

the gunshot rang out, a deafening sound that echoed through the campsite. everyone flinched, their expressions frozen in shock and horror as they stared at you. the gun fell from your hand, clattering to the ground with a hollow thud. your hand, now free, moved to cradle her head once more. you gazed down at her, the reality of what you had done settling over you like a shroud. you weren’t going to let her turn into the monster that killed her. you had saved her from that fate, but the cost was too high, too unbearable. she was still warm in your arms, her body unmoving, and the finality of it all was like a dagger to your heart.

hoseok wiped away his own tears, his face drawn with grief. hani was beside herself, her sobs uncontrollable as she clung to hoseok for support. even taehyung, who had tried so hard to remain detached, took one final, shocked look before turning away, retreating from the sight that was too much for him to bear. jungkook wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as he pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head. “i’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with tears. “i’m so, so sorry.”

you were silent, the words trapped in your throat, too tangled with your grief to form a coherent response. his embrace was warm, comforting, but it did little to soothe the storm raging inside you. all you could do was sit there, holding hera’s lifeless body in your arms, the world around you fading into the background.

the night passed in a blur, the hours bleeding into one another as you remained by hera’s side. the others drifted in and out, their faces etched with grief and helplessness. they didn’t know what to say, how to comfort you in a moment like this. what words could possibly bring solace when the world had stolen everything from you?

the sky gradually lightened, the first rays of dawn creeping over the horizon. but you didn’t move, couldn’t bring yourself to leave her side. her body had grown cold in your arms, but still, you held on, as if by doing so, you could keep a part of her with you, keep her from slipping away completely. jungkook stayed with you throughout the night, his presence a silent comfort. he didn’t try to make you speak, didn’t force you to move. he simply sat with you, his hand resting on your shoulder, a steady, grounding force in the midst of your grief.

as the sun finally broke over the horizon, casting a golden light over the camp, you looked down at hera one last time. her face, once so full of life, was now still, peaceful in a way that tore at your heart. you had lost everything, but in this final moment, you made a silent vow to keep her memory alive, to carry her with you, no matter what. “goodbye, hera,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “i love you.”

the last of your strength seemed to leave you. you slumped forward, your forehead resting against hera’s, your tears mingling with the cold morning air. the world felt impossibly heavy, the weight of your loss almost too much to bear. but somehow, you knew you had to keep going. for her. for the others who still needed you. for the memory of everything you had lost.

with movements slow and deliberate, you extricated yourself from her lifeless body, the coldness of her skin a final reminder of what you had lost. as you stood, the world around you felt distant, like you were moving through a fog. your eyes, still swollen and bloodshot from the tears that had finally stopped falling, stared blankly at the campsite. the others were beginning to stir, their exhaustion evident in every movement, but your mind was already made up.

you approached the pile of weapons with a determined stride, your hands reaching out to begin loading the guns. the mechanical nature of the task gave your hands something to do, something to focus on other than the pain that threatened to swallow you whole. clip after clip, you loaded each gun with a practiced ease, your fingers moving with a steady, unfeeling precision.

one by one, the others awoke, their eyes settling on you, unsure of what to say, too afraid to ask if you were okay. the air was thick with the tension of unspoken words, the grief that hung over all of you like a heavy cloud. they could see the change in you, the hardening of your features, the way your hands moved with a purpose that bordered on obsession. they didn’t know how to approach you now, how to reach out to the person who had been broken so thoroughly the night before.

jungkook was the first to find his voice, his concern for you overriding his own grief. “what are you doing?” he asked, his voice soft, careful, as if he were afraid of pushing you too far. you didn’t look at him as you continued to load the guns, your voice cold and distant as you replied, “we need to relocate. the fences, they’re not doing their job. we’re not safe here.”

hoseok spoke up, his tone cautious. “are you sure that’s a good idea? where would we even go?” you shrugged, the motion stiff and mechanical, your face devoid of any emotion as you finally met his eyes. “i don’t care what you do. stay here if you want. but i’m leaving. with or without you.”

the bluntness of your words left everyone taken aback. they exchanged worried glances, the shift in your demeanor more shocking than anything they had seen from you before. but none of them could question it. none of them dared to. they all knew why you were like this, understood the depth of your pain, even if they couldn’t fully grasp the extent of it. jungkook stepped forward, his heart breaking at the sight of you. the dried tears on your cheeks, the bloodstains on your skin, the hollow look in your eyes—it was too much for him to bear. gently, he took your hands in his, trying to offer some comfort, though he knew it was a small, almost meaningless gesture in the face of what you had lost.

“we’ll go with you,” he said softly, his voice full of a sadness that matched your own. he squeezed your hands, hoping to offer some small reassurance. “we’ll all go with you.” the others murmured in agreement, their resolve firm even in the face of the unknown. they would follow you, wherever you went. there was no question in their minds. they couldn’t leave you alone, not after everything that had happened.

with everyone in agreement, the mood shifted from grief to grim determination. they began to pack up what little they had, the weight of the previous night still hanging heavily over them. the silence was thick, broken only by the sounds of their movements as they prepared to leave the campsite that had been their home, if only for a brief moment in time. you didn’t say anything more as you continued your work, your hands moving with a detached efficiency. when everything was ready, the group mounted the horses, each person somber, their minds weighed down by the events of the night. jungkook helped you onto the horse you would share, his hands lingering on your waist as if he were afraid you might slip away. you didn’t meet his eyes, your gaze fixed on something far off in the distance, beyond the pain, beyond the reality of your new life.

the campsite was a ghost of what it had been, the memories of the past days haunting the empty spaces. as you prepared to leave, you couldn’t help but take one last look, your eyes sweeping over the area that had once offered a fleeting sense of safety. and then your gaze fell on hera. her body, now cold and lifeless, lay where you had left it, a stark reminder of the cruelty of this world. your heart twisted in your chest, a fresh wave of grief crashing over you, but you couldn’t look away. you owed her that much.

for a moment, it felt as if time had stopped. the sounds around you faded away, the world shrinking down to just you and her. it was as if you were back in that nightmarish moment, the sight of her blood, the way her eyes had pleaded with you in those final, agonizing seconds. you couldn’t look anymore. it was too much. with a sharp intake of breath, you tore your eyes away, focusing on the path ahead. you felt jungkook’s hand tighten around yours as the horse began to move, carrying you away from the campsite, away from the memories that would haunt you for the rest of your life.

the woods loomed ahead like a dense, impenetrable wall, the trees casting long shadows in the early morning light. the air was thick with the smell of damp earth and the faint rustle of leaves, but the only sound that really registered in your mind was the steady thud of the horses’ hooves against the ground. no one spoke as you rode deeper into the forest, each of you lost in your thoughts, the silence heavy with the weight of your collective grief.

you didn’t know where you were going. none of you did. the destination didn’t matter. all that mattered was putting as much distance between you and the horror you had left behind. it was as if fate itself had taken the reins, guiding you into the unknown, toward whatever cruel end awaited you.

the horses, sensing the tension, began to grow restless. their movements became erratic, their heads tossing, their ears twitching in every direction. it was a sign—a warning that something was wrong. you could feel it too, a tightening in your chest, a prickle of unease at the nape of your neck. the others noticed as well, their hands tightening on the reins, their eyes scanning the surrounding trees for any sign of danger. then, you saw them.

they emerged from the shadows like phantoms, their forms shifting and blurring between human and something far more sinister. there were three of them, each one more terrifying than the last. their bodies were gaunt, stretched tight over bones that jutted out at unnatural angles, their faces twisted in a grotesque parody of hunger. their eyes glowed with a malevolent light, focused entirely on you and your group. hani gasped, the sound sharp and piercing in the silence, and your heart thudded painfully in response. jungkook, always ready to take charge, turned in his saddle, his voice rising in a barked command that cut through the tension like a knife. “get ready—”

but it was too late. the command was swallowed by the rush of blood in your ears, by the wave of anger that surged through you like a wildfire. the sight of them—those creatures, those monsters—brought it all back. the image of hera, broken and bloodied, flashed before your eyes, and all the fear that should have paralyzed you turned into something far more dangerous. you swung your legs off the horse with a fluid motion, the ground solid beneath your boots as you strode forward. the others called out to you, their voices edged with panic, but you didn’t hear them. all you could hear was the pounding of your own heartbeat, the roar of blood in your veins as you reached for your gun, steadying it in your hands.

you aimed, the barrel of the gun unwavering as you locked onto your targets. the first shot rang out, a deafening crack that echoed through the trees. the bullet struck the first creature squarely in the heart. it howled in pain, its body convulsing as it fell to the ground, but you knew it wasn’t dead. not yet. another shot, and then another. three shots, three hits. each one found its mark, burying itself deep in the chests of the creatures. they writhed on the ground, their howls of agony filling the air, but you felt no satisfaction. no relief. the rage inside you burned hotter, brighter, until it was all you could feel.

“shut the fuck up,” you snarled as if it could understand you, the words slipping from your lips like venom as you approached the first creature. its eyes, once so full of malice, were now wide with fear, its body trembling as you closed the distance between you.

without hesitation, you dropped to your knees, your hands wrapping around its throat. its fur was cold and clammy beneath your fingers, its pulse weak and fluttering as it struggled against you. you squeezed harder, your grip like iron as you watched the life drain from its eyes, your own breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. it clawed at your hands, its strength waning as the light began to fade from its gaze. the world around you faded as well, the voices of your companions drowned out by the pounding of your heart. all that mattered was the creature in front of you, the way its body convulsed, the way its breaths turned into shallow gasps, then to silence. and then it was still.

you didn’t hesitate, didn’t stop to think as you pressed the barrel of your gun against its temple. the shot was deafening, the sound tearing through the quiet of the forest. the creature’s body jerked once, then went limp, its eyes now nothing but empty, lifeless sockets. you let the gun drop to your side as you rose to your feet, your legs unsteady beneath you. the second creature was still howling in pain, its voice a pitiful wail that grated on your nerves. you couldn’t stand it—couldn’t stand the sound of its suffering, couldn’t stand the reminder of the pain these things had caused.

you stalked over to it, your boots crunching on the fallen leaves as you drew closer. it looked up at you, its eyes wide with a mix of fear and something else—something almost like pleading. but you had no sympathy left to give. with a single, brutal motion, you kicked it in the ribs, the force of the blow sending it sprawling onto its back. the howl turned into a whimper, the creature curling in on itself as if trying to escape the pain. but there was no escape. not from you.

you kicked it again, harder this time, feeling the bones crack beneath the force of your boot. the whimpering grew softer, weaker, until it was little more than a pathetic whine. the sound filled you with a twisted sense of satisfaction, a dark pleasure in knowing that it was suffering—that it felt even a fraction of the pain you carried with you. but it wasn’t enough. it would never be enough. you raised your gun once more, aiming it directly between the creature’s eyes. the whimpering stopped as it looked up at you, its gaze filled with a terror that was almost human. almost. the shot was quick, clean. the creature’s head snapped back, its body going limp, and the forest fell silent once more.

you took a step back, your breath coming in harsh gasps as you tried to steady yourself. but there was no time for rest. the third creature was still alive, still watching you with those same hungry eyes, though now they were tinged with fear. you crouched beside it, your expression hardening as you met its gaze. It whimpered, its body shaking as it tried to crawl away, but you were faster. with a quick, practiced motion, you drew your knife, the blade glinting in the dim light as you held it up for the creature to see.

“please,” it rasped, its voice barely more than a whisper, the sound twisted and distorted as it tried to form words. but there was no mercy in you, not anymore.

you leaned in close, feigning a look of sympathy, your voice low and cold as you whispered, “you don’t get to beg.”

with that, you drove the knife into its throat, the blade sinking deep into its flesh. blood spurted from the wound, the creature’s body convulsing as it tried to fight, but you held it down, your grip like iron. you twisted the knife, the motion slow and deliberate, watching as the life drained from its eyes. the final breath rattled in its chest, its body slumping against the ground as the last of its strength left it. but you didn’t stop. you couldn’t. the anger still burned hot and fierce inside you, demanding more, demanding blood. with a final, brutal motion, you pulled the knife from its throat and drove it into its skull, the blade sinking deep into bone. the creature shuddered once, then went still, its eyes staring blankly at the sky above.

for a moment, you simply crouched there, your breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps as you stared at the bodies before you. the silence was deafening, the forest around you eerily quiet as if it, too, were holding its breath. when you finally stood, your hands were trembling, the knife still slick with blood as you wiped it on your jeans. the others were staring at you, their faces a mix of horror, sympathy, and something else—something you couldn’t quite name.

you couldn’t meet their eyes, couldn’t bear to see the pity, the fear, the judgment. all you could do was focus on the task at hand, on the steps you needed to take to keep moving forward. without a word, you turned and walked back to the horse, your legs feeling like lead as you moved. you mounted with stiff, mechanical movements, your mind still reeling from the violence, from the anger that had consumed you.

jungkook’s eyes met yours, his gaze filled with a deep, heartbreaking sympathy that made your chest tighten with a fresh wave of pain. he opened his mouth to speak, to say something—anything—but you didn’t give him the chance. “keep going,” you said, your voice flat, devoid of emotion. It was all you could manage. all you could allow yourself to feel. he hesitated, his hand reaching out to you as if he could offer some comfort, but you pulled away, your gaze fixed on the path ahead. there was no comfort to be found. no solace. only the cold, hard reality of survival.

the forest enveloped you in an overwhelming silence, the only sound the steady rhythm of hooves against the earth. each beat echoed in your mind, matching the hollow thudding of your heart. the trees closed in like towering sentinels, their branches interlocking overhead, casting flickering shadows across the path. the air was cool, but you felt nothing—no bite of the wind, no comfort in the shade. just numbness, a void where your thoughts should have been.

jungkook’s hand rested on your waist as he rode behind you, a gentle, anchoring touch that would have once brought comfort. now, it was simply another weight, another reminder of the world you inhabited—a world where tenderness was a luxury you couldn’t afford. his fingers pressed lightly, as if he were afraid you might break under the pressure, but you didn’t react. your body was there, solid and real, but your mind was adrift, lost in the aftermath of what you had just done.

you could feel the others behind you, their presence like shadows at your back, silent and heavy. no one dared to speak. not after what they had seen. they were with you, but they were alone in their thoughts, just as you were. perhaps they were trying to process the same thing—how you could have shifted so easily into that cold, ruthless killer, the one who had looked those monsters in the eyes and ended their lives without hesitation.

but none of that mattered now. the silence stretched on, growing thicker with each passing moment, until it became a tangible force, pressing down on you from all sides. even the forest seemed to hold its breath, the usual rustle of leaves and distant calls of birds eerily absent. there was nothing but the sound of hooves, the creak of leather, and the faint, steady breathing of the horses. jungkook’s hand tightened slightly, his thumb brushing against your side in a way that was meant to be soothing, but you barely registered it. his presence was a distant hum in the back of your mind, overshadowed by the cold, creeping numbness that had taken hold of you. your eyes were fixed ahead, unseeing, as the path stretched on endlessly before you.

then, something broke through the haze—a shape, emerging from the blur of trees and shadow. it was faint at first, a dark silhouette on the horizon, but as you drew closer, it solidified, taking form. your mind, sluggish and detached, struggled to make sense of it. it was a building, large and foreboding, its outlines jagged and stark against the sky. a prison. the word came to you slowly, sinking into the fog that clouded your thoughts. the horses sensed it too, their ears perking up, their pace quickening as if drawn by some unseen force. they moved with purpose, their steps more certain, more eager, as if they understood that place, that prison, held something you all needed.

the structure loomed ahead, its towering walls and barbed wire fences a stark contrast to the natural chaos of the forest. it was massive, a relic of a world long gone, its gray stone walls cracked and weathered with age. the gate, once a barrier meant to keep the world out—or perhaps to keep something in—hung open, its iron bars twisted and rusted, as if time itself had worn them down. the closer you got, the more you could see—the high, watchful towers that stood like sentinels at each corner, the shattered windows that gaped like empty eyes, the overgrown courtyard where weeds had taken root, choking out any trace of order. the place was abandoned, long forgotten, but it still held an air of menace, a lingering aura of despair and violence.

you slowed the horse as you neared the entrance, the others doing the same, their eyes fixed on the structure with a mix of caution and curiosity. that place, as desolate and grim as it appeared, offered something you desperately needed—shelter, security, the promise of walls that could protect you from whatever else lurked in the shadows. as you dismounted, the ground felt solid beneath your boots, grounding you in reality once more. the numbness receded just enough for you to focus, to take in the details with a cold, calculating eye. you led your horse to a nearby post, tying the reins with quick, practiced movements. the others followed suit, their actions mirroring yours as they secured their mounts.

the horses, sensing the tension, stamped their hooves and snorted, but they remained obedient, their heads lowered as if understanding the gravity of the moment. you gave the horse a brief, absent-minded pat before stepping away, your eyes sweeping over the entrance to the prison. the gate creaked as you pushed it open wider, the sound jarring in the quiet. It swung inward with a groan of protest, revealing a long, narrow corridor that led deeper into the compound. the walls on either side were tall and imposing, lined with cracked tiles and the remnants of old posters that had long since faded into obscurity. the air was thick with the scent of decay and mildew, a stale odor that spoke of years of neglect.

you moved forward, your steps slow and deliberate, each footfall echoing in the stillness. the others trailed behind you, their footsteps mingling with yours as you made your way into the heart of the prison. your eyes darted from side to side, taking in every detail—the rusted chains that hung from the walls, the empty cells with their iron bars twisted and broken, the remnants of a life that had once thrived here but was now long gone.

everywhere you looked, there were signs of violence, of desperation. the walls were scarred with deep gouges, as if someone had tried to claw their way out. the floors were stained with dark patches that might have been blood, long dried and faded. you passed by a cell where the door hung ajar, its hinges broken, the interior filled with debris—tattered blankets, discarded shoes, a single, withered plant that had somehow managed to grow in the darkness.

it was a place of death, of suffering, and yet, it felt safer than the world outside. there, within these walls, there was a sense of control, of containment. you could fortify this place, make it a stronghold against whatever else the world had to throw at you. you reached the center of the compound, a large, open courtyard surrounded by high walls and barbed wire. the ground was cracked and uneven, littered with debris—broken glass, twisted metal, the remnants of old fires. a few scattered pieces of furniture, rotted and sagging, hinted at attempts to make this place livable once, though those efforts had clearly failed.

jungkook was beside you now, his presence steady and calm, though you could feel the tension radiating off him. his eyes swept over the courtyard, taking in the same details you did, his mind likely working through the same calculations. he said nothing, but his hand found yours, his fingers curling around yours in a gesture of solidarity. the others spread out, moving through the space with cautious steps, their eyes wide as they took in their new surroundings. hani moved to the edge of the courtyard, peering into one of the cells with a wary expression. hoseok crouched down beside a rusted metal drum, his fingers tracing the outline of a handprint left in the dust. jimin and taehyung exchanged a glance, their unease mirrored in the set of their shoulders, but they said nothing, their eyes turning back to you for guidance.

you let out a slow breath, your chest tightening with a mix of dread and determination. it was awful. It reeked of death, of hopelessness. and yet, it was the best chance you had. the best chance to survive, to regroup, to find some semblance of safety in a world that had long since forgotten what that word meant. finally, you broke the silence, your voice rough and low as you addressed the group. “this is it,” you said, the words hanging in the air like a final judgment. “we’ll stay here tonight. we’ll fortify the place, make it secure. then, we’ll decide what to do next.”

there was no argument, no protest. they all knew there was no other option. the forest outside was filled with unknown threats, with dangers that would only grow more relentless as time went on. there, at least, you had walls. you had a chance. you turned back to the entrance, your mind already running through the tasks that needed to be done. the gate needed to be secured, the cells checked for any remaining threats. you’d need to set up a watch, make sure the perimeter was safe, that there were no weak points.

as the night began to descend upon the old prison, the air grew heavy with the scent of damp stone and lingering decay. the others had already set to work, driven by a desperate need to create some semblance of normalcy in a world that had long since abandoned it. the courtyard had become a flurry of activity, each person taking on a task that required their full attention, their minds focused on survival rather than the dark thoughts that threatened to creep in.

hoseok and jimin worked together to clear a space in one of the larger cells, dragging out rusted debris and sweeping away the layers of dust and grime that had settled over the years. they spoke in low voices, their words too quiet to make out, but the tension in their movements said enough. every now and then, they’d glance over at you, concern etched into their features, but they knew better than to interrupt.

jungkook busied himself with securing the entrance, his eyes sharp and calculating as he inspected the gate’s hinges and the surrounding walls. he moved with purpose, his hands steady as he reinforced the gate with whatever materials he could find—broken pipes, pieces of metal, anything that could act as a barrier against whatever might come. the others kept glancing his way, silently reassured by his presence, by the way he took control without hesitation.

hani had found a small room off to the side, the remnants of an old kitchen. she set about scavenging through the drawers and cupboards, hoping to find anything useful—canned goods, old utensils, anything that could be repurposed. her face was set in a determined frown, but you could see the faint glimmer of hope in her eyes when she found a few tins of food that had somehow remained unspoiled. taehyung was quieter than usual, his movements deliberate as he helped the others, but his eyes kept drifting your way. there was something in his gaze, a mixture of guilt and something else you couldn’t quite place. he was more subdued, his usual sharp remarks replaced with silence, his energy focused on the tasks at hand.

you couldn’t stay inside any longer. the walls, though protective, felt too close, too stifling, pressing in on you with memories of what you’d done. you stepped outside, into the open air of the courtyard, and let the cool breeze wash over you. It was a small relief, but enough to steady your racing heart, if only for a moment. as dusk settled over the prison, painting the sky in hues of deep purple and inky black, you shakily pulled a cigarette from your pocket, your fingers trembling as you fumbled with the lighter. the first inhale was harsh, burning your throat, but the familiar taste brought with it a sense of grounding, something to cling to amidst the chaos.

but then you looked down. the sight of your hands, stained with dried blood, sent a wave of nausea through you. the blood wasn’t yours— it was theirs, the creatures you’d killed without hesitation, without mercy. but there was also her blood, the remnants of your sister’s final moments clinging to your skin like a cruel reminder. you almost couldn’t bear it. the cigarette trembled between your fingers, and for a moment, you considered throwing it away, letting it burn out on the cold, hard ground. but then you heard the sound of footsteps behind you, soft and hesitant, and you stiffened, instinctively preparing yourself for another confrontation, another fight.

but when you turned, it wasn’t an enemy standing there. it was taehyung. his expression was unreadable, but there was no hostility in his eyes, no anger or judgment. instead, he was holding out a small, crumpled tissue, the corners of his lips pulled into a faint, almost apologetic smile. “here,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. you stared at the tissue for a moment, surprised by the gesture, by the softness in his gaze. slowly, reluctantly, you took it from him, your fingers brushing against his briefly as you did. the tissue felt small and insignificant in your hand, but you appreciated the thought behind it. silently, you wiped at the blood on your hands, though it did little to erase the stains that had already seeped into your soul.

in a quiet act of solidarity, you reached into your pocket and pulled out another cigarette, offering it to him along with the lighter. he hesitated for a second, then took it, his fingers steady as he lit the cigarette and took a long drag. the two of you stood there in silence, the night settling around you, the quiet only broken by the distant sounds of the others moving inside the prison. it wasn’t until the cigarettes were nearly burned to the filter that taehyung finally spoke, his voice low and rough, “i’m sorry.”

the words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. you turned to look at him, your eyes searching his face for some hint of what he was thinking, but all you saw was a strange mixture of guilt and sorrow. “it took my sister dying for you to be nice to me, is that it?” the words slipped out before you could stop them, harsh and bitter. but they were true, and you couldn’t bring yourself to regret them.

he didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. Instead, he held your gaze, the faint lines of exhaustion and pain evident in his expression. for a long moment, he said nothing, and you thought he might leave, but then he shook his head slowly. “no,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “i envied you.”

you blinked, taken aback by the admission. “you envied me?” you echoed, unable to hide the disbelief in your voice. “why?”

“because you found her,” he said simply, the words heavy with a sadness that cut through the quiet. “you found your sister. i found my brother, but not in the same way.”

there was a long pause, the weight of his words sinking in. you turned to fully face him, your heart tightening with a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite name. “what do you mean?” you asked, though you weren’t sure if you really wanted to hear the answer.

taehyung stared down at the ground, his cigarette burning down to the filter, the ember glowing softly in the fading light. “i found him, but he had already turned into a skinwalker by then.” the revelation hit you like a punch to the gut. your breath caught in your throat as the full weight of what he was saying settled in. the horror of it, the unimaginable pain he must have felt, it was too much. but you didn’t interrupt, didn’t say anything, just waited as he continued, his voice breaking slightly as he spoke.

“i looked that thing dead in the eye and knew it was him,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “there was nothing left of the brother i knew, just hunger. the same hunger you saw tonight.” he paused, swallowing hard before he continued. “i had to take his life, the same way you had to take hera’s.”

for a moment, neither of you said anything, the silence stretching between you like an unspoken understanding. you felt a pang of sympathy, a deep, aching sadness for the pain he had endured, for the burden he had carried alone. “i’m sorry,” you whispered, the words inadequate but sincere. taehyung shook his head, a small, bitter smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “don’t be,” he said softly. “if he had lived, i think he would’ve gotten along with her.”

the unexpected tenderness in his voice caught you off guard, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to imagine it—your sister and taehyung’s brother, alive and well, laughing and joking together in a world that wasn’t torn apart by monsters and death. it was a fleeting thought, one that was quickly swallowed by the harsh reality of your situation, but it was enough to bring a small, sad smile to your lips. but the moment passed, and you were once again reminded of the blood on your hands, the lives you had taken, the sister you had lost. your hands began to tremble again, the cigarette slipping from your fingers and falling to the ground, smoldering in the dirt. you stared down at them, the tremors growing stronger, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once.

taehyung noticed. he reached out, gently taking your hands in his, his touch warm and grounding. “don’t detach,” he said quietly, his voice firm but kind. “not yet. the group needs you.”

his words, simple as they were, cut through the fog of despair that threatened to overwhelm you. you met his gaze, seeing the sincerity, the understanding in his eyes. he wasn’t just asking you to stay present for the group’s sake—he was asking you to hold on, to fight against the numbness that threatened to consume you, to find some reason to keep going, even if it was just for a little while longer. you nodded, the movement slow and reluctant, but it was enough. you knew he was right, even if you couldn’t fully believe it yet. the group did need you. they needed all of you, working together, supporting each other, if you were going to survive the hellish world.

the night was still, the weight of the day’s events pressing down on the small group like an invisible burden. the old prison offered a semblance of shelter, but the cold, unfeeling stone walls did little to ease the tension that hung in the air. everyone was tired—physically, mentally, emotionally. the exhaustion was evident, settling in their bones and dragging down their movements as they slowly prepared to sleep.

hani was the first to approach you, her eyes full of concern as she stepped closer. she hesitated for a moment before she spoke, her voice soft and tentative. “how are you holding up?” she asked, her words heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. you wanted to answer, to reassure her that you were fine, but the truth was lodged somewhere deep inside, tangled in a mess of emotions you couldn’t quite unravel. so, instead of speaking, you just nodded, a small, jerky motion that conveyed none of what you were feeling but was all you could manage in that moment.

she didn’t push, didn’t ask for more. she simply nodded back, a silent acknowledgment of your response, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before she turned away to find her own spot to sleep. it should have been the end of the interaction, but then, out of nowhere, you felt a pair of arms wrap around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace. it was jimin. his touch was warm, his hug firm but not suffocating. you could feel the steady beat of his heart against your chest, the rise and fall of his breathing. for a moment, you were too stunned to react, your body stiff in his arms, unsure of how to respond to the sudden show of affection. but then, slowly, you allowed yourself to relax, to lean into the embrace and accept the comfort he was offering.

you didn’t say anything, didn’t know what to say. words felt too clumsy, too inadequate to convey the storm of emotions swirling inside you. but jimin didn’t seem to need words. he just held you, offering a quiet, unspoken understanding that was more comforting than anything anyone had said to you all day. when he finally pulled back, there was a small, reassuring smile on his face, and you found yourself returning it, even if only slightly. the warmth of the hug lingered, a small balm against the cold reality that had settled in your heart.

but as he moved away, you noticed taehyung lingering behind you, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that was hard to ignore. he didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. his presence was enough to draw jungkook’s attention, and you saw the way his eyes narrowed slightly, concern evident in the lines of his face. “what happened?” he asked, his voice quiet but filled with an undercurrent of worry.

you met his gaze, the weight of the day’s events still heavy on your shoulders. “we talked,” you said simply, your voice betraying none of the depth of the conversation you and taehyung had shared earlier. to everyone’s surprise—and perhaps horror—taehyung smiled. it wasn’t the sharp, mocking smile they were used to seeing from him, but a genuine one, soft around the edges and full of something that almost looked like relief.

hoseok’s eyes widened comically, and he let out a loud cackle that echoed off the stone walls. “someone write this down,” he said, barely containing his laughter. “taehyung actually smiled. this should be documented.” the sound of laughter filled the room, a rare, welcome sound that broke through the tension that had gripped them all day. even you found yourself laughing, a small, genuine chuckle that surprised even you. it wasn’t much, but it was something—a brief moment of light in the darkness.

taehyung shook his head, still smiling, and muttered, “fuck off,” though there was no real bite to his words. the smile remained, lingering on his lips as he found his own spot to settle in for the night.

everyone gradually found their places, creating makeshift beds from the few blankets and sleeping bags they had managed to bring with them. the space was limited, and the proximity was closer than anyone would have preferred, but no one complained. they were grateful just to have somewhere to rest, somewhere that felt even marginally safe.

as you looked around the cramped space, your eyes fell on jungkook, who was settling into a small corner, his back pressed against the cold stone wall. the sight of him, so alone and yet so steadfast, tugged at something deep inside you. you hesitated for a moment, but then the lack of space became all too apparent, and you found yourself speaking before you could second-guess the decision. “jungkook,” you called softly, your voice carrying over the quiet murmurings of the others. He looked up, his eyes meeting yours, a flicker of surprise crossing his features as you continued. “can i get in with you?”

for a moment, he just stared at you, clearly taken aback by your request. his cheeks flushed a faint pink, and he quickly averted his gaze, nodding almost too eagerly. “yeah, sure,” he stammered, shifting over to make room for you. you moved closer, carefully lowering yourself beside him, the small space forcing you to press up against him more than you anticipated. the warmth of his body was immediate, seeping through the thin layers of clothing and into your skin. it was comforting in a way you hadn’t expected, a small solace in the midst of everything.

the space was tight, the proximity almost intimate, and as you both settled in, you felt jungkook’s body begin to relax beside you. he hesitated for a moment, his breath hitching slightly, but then he shifted closer, his arm wrapping around you in a tentative hug. you didn’t mind it. in fact, you found yourself leaning into the embrace, letting his warmth envelop you, grounding you in a way that nothing else had. the sound of his steady breathing, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against yours, was soothing, a quiet reminder that you weren’t alone.

the others slowly drifted off to sleep, the quiet sounds of their breathing filling the room. but you and jungkook remained awake, the silence between you both heavy but not uncomfortable. after what felt like an eternity, his voice broke the silence, his words barely more than a whisper. “are you asleep?” you shook your head, the movement slight but enough for him to notice. his grip on you tightened slightly, and you could feel the tension in his body as he struggled with whatever it was he wanted to say.

“i know you’re going through a lot,” he began, his voice soft and full of concern. “and I know it’s not my place to say this, but i don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this. i’m here for you, fuck, i love you.” you felt your heart tighten at his words, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the fog of despair that had settled in your mind. you wanted to believe him, to take comfort in his words, but the fear of losing someone else, of getting attached only to have them ripped away, was too overwhelming.

“i can’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “i can’t risk loving you and losing you too.”

he was silent for a moment, his arms tightening around you as if he could somehow protect you from the pain that had already taken root in your heart. “you won’t lose me,” he said finally, his voice firm and full of quiet determination. “i promise you won’t lose me.” there was something in his voice, something so sure, so certain, that it made you want to believe him. and for a moment, you did. you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance you could hold onto this, onto him, without it slipping away.

before you could stop yourself, you turned your head slightly, your eyes meeting his in the dim light of the room. there was a softness in his gaze, a warmth that made your heart ache, and before you knew it, you were leaning in, your lips brushing against his in a tentative, hesitant kiss. the kiss was soft, gentle, and full of blind promises. his lips were warm against yours, his touch careful, as if he was afraid of breaking you. but you didn’t feel fragile, not in that moment. you felt grounded, tethered to something real, something that wasn’t just pain and loss.

jungkook responded slowly, his lips moving against yours with a careful, tender pressure that sent a shiver down your spine. his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a soothing motion as he deepened the kiss just slightly, testing the waters. you kissed him back, your movements slow and deliberate, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him. it wasn’t just a kiss; it was a promise, a silent one that you wouldn’t let the darkness consume you, that you would hold onto this moment, to him, for as long as you could.

when you finally pulled away, your forehead resting against his, you were both breathing heavily, your hearts pounding in unison. his hand remained on your cheek, his touch gentle and reassuring, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt something other than despair. the fear was still there, lurking in the back of your mind, and as much as you wanted to hold onto this moment, you couldn’t shake the nagging doubt that clung to your thoughts.

“i love you, too,” you whispered back. he smiled and, fuck, was it contagious. you found the corners of your lips tilting upward as you returned the smile, allowing him to embrace you in warmth that seemed permanent, even though you knew it wasn't. you knew everything would wither away one way or another, but you couldn't stand another second living in the harsh reality you made your own. so, you let yourself believe. the world had ended, but it didn't mean yours had to.

you woke to a sudden, piercing sound that tore through the heavy silence of the prison, pulling you from the depths of an uneasy sleep. it was an unnatural noise, shrill and relentless, like the world itself was screaming in agony. your heart pounded in your chest, your body jolting upright as you tried to make sense of what was happening. beside you, jungkook was already awake, his eyes wide and alert as he instinctively reached for you, his hand gripping your arm. his touch grounded you, if only for a moment, but the fear in his eyes reflected your own.

“what the hell was that?” hoseok’s voice cut through the chaos, rough with sleep and rising panic. he was across the room, already on his feet, his eyes darting around the dimly lit space as if expecting something to burst through the walls at any moment. “the creatures, have they come?” hani asked, her voice trembling as she clutched at the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her eyes wide with fear.

you knew that sound wasn’t from them. it was something else, something far worse. your gut twisted with a sense of foreboding, an inexplicable dread that made your skin crawl. a glance out the barred window told you everything you needed to know.

the sky, once a deep, inky black, was now ablaze with a sickly orange glow. it wasn’t the warm, welcoming hue of sunrise, but something far more ominous. the horizon was alive with a creeping, fiery light, like the world itself was being consumed by an inferno. the air was thick with a choking heat, the stench of burning metal and something acrid filling your nostrils. “something’s happening,” you said, your voice low and filled with dread as you turned to face the others. the look in your eyes must have conveyed the gravity of the situation because the panic in the room grew tangible.

before you could even think, a distant, thunderous roar reached your ears, vibrating through the very walls of the prison. it was a sound that chilled you to the bone, a sound that wasn’t just heard, but felt—a deep, resounding tremor that reverberated through the earth, shaking the foundations of the building. then, in the distance, you saw it.

the horizon exploded into a blinding flash of light, a surge of energy that seemed to consume everything in its path. you could see the mushrooming cloud of destruction rising into the sky, towering over the landscape like a monstrous titan. the light was so bright, so intense, that it burned into your retinas, searing the image into your mind even after you squeezed your eyes shut. “get down!” jungkook shouted, his voice barely audible over the deafening roar that followed. it was a command, a desperate plea, but there was no time to think, no time to react.

the blast wave hit the prison like a freight train, a wall of force that slammed into you with brutal, unstoppable power. the air was sucked from your lungs, your body lifted off the ground and thrown back like a ragdoll. the walls shook violently, dust and debris raining down from the ceiling as the very structure of the building groaned in protest. you crashed to the floor, the impact knocking the breath out of you, pain shooting through your limbs as you landed hard. the world around you was a chaotic blur, the sound of shattering glass, crumbling concrete, and the terrified screams of your friends filling your ears. it was like being caught in the eye of a storm, a maelstrom of destruction that was tearing everything apart.

the heat was unbearable, a searing wave that licked at your skin, threatening to consume you. you could feel the shockwave rippling through the building, shaking the ground beneath you, and with it came the unmistakable sound of structural collapse—the groan of metal twisting, the crack of concrete splitting, the rumble of walls buckling under the strain. you tried to move, to crawl, to find some semblance of safety, but your body wouldn’t respond. every inch of you screamed in agony, your head spinning from the impact, your ears ringing from the deafening noise. the air was thick with dust and smoke, choking you, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

jungkook was there, his arms around you, shielding you as best he could as the world fell apart around you. you could feel his heart pounding against your back, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered something—words you couldn’t make out, couldn’t comprehend, but you knew they were meant to comfort, to reassure. but there was no comfort to be found. the prison was falling, crumbling under the force of the blast, the walls and ceilings collapsing in on themselves, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. the sound of metal tearing, of stone splitting, filled the air as the building shuddered and groaned, and you knew it was only a matter of time before everything came crashing down.

a second blast followed, this one closer, the shockwave hitting you with even more force. you were thrown again, your body skidding across the floor as more debris rained down from above. you could hear the others shouting, their voices lost in the cacophony, and then, finally, there was silence—a heavy silence that weighed down on you like a blanket. you didn’t know how long you lay there, gasping for breath, your ears ringing, your body aching with pain. the world was a blur of dust and smoke, the once familiar walls of the prison now a twisted, broken mess of rubble and debris.

when you finally managed to push yourself up, your limbs trembling with the effort, the sight that greeted you was one of utter devastation. the prison was barely standing, the walls crumbling, the roof half-caved in. the once-sturdy structure had been reduced to little more than a shell, a skeleton of what it once was. the air was thick with dust, the smell of burning and decay heavy in your nose.

the others were scattered around the room, some lying motionless, others struggling to move. jungkook was beside you, his face pale and streaked with blood, his eyes wide with shock as he took in the destruction around you.

“what happened?” jimin’s voice was barely more than a whisper, trembling as she clutched at hoseok, who was bleeding from a gash on his forehead. “the nuclear plants,” you said, your voice hoarse, the realization dawning on you with a cold, terrifying certainty. “the cooling water must have evaporated.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and final, as the reality of the situation sank in. the world wasn’t just ending; it was being obliterated, piece by piece, consumed by a fire that couldn’t be stopped. and you were right in the middle of it. you looked around at the faces of your friends, at the fear and despair etched into their features, and you knew that whatever came next, it was going to be worse. there was no escape from this, no way to outrun the destruction that was spreading across the globe like wildfire.

one by one, you helped the others to their feet, offering words of comfort, of reassurance, even though you didn’t fully believe them yourself. the fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of your mind, but it was tempered by something stronger—the will to survive, to keep fighting, no matter what. together, you stumbled out of the wreckage of the prison, into a world that was no longer recognizable, a world that had been torn apart by forces beyond your control. the sky was still burning, the air thick with smoke and ash, but you didn’t look back. there was no point.

just as you thought you had found some semblance of footing, another explosion erupted, far closer than before. the world around you seemed to implode in on itself, a monstrous roar of fire and fury swallowing everything in its path. the blast wave hit you with unimaginable force, sending you and jungkook flying backward.

you felt the ground leave you, your body weightless for a moment before crashing down hard. the impact knocked the wind from your lungs, your body racked with pain as you skidded across the debris-strewn ground. the noise was deafening, a cacophony of destruction that drowned out everything else. you barely had time to register the pain before you realized jungkook had been thrown with you. his body collided with yours, and the two of you tumbled together, a tangled mess of limbs and blood.

“jungkook,” you barely managed to rasp his name, your throat raw from the dust and smoke. you tried to move, to reach for him, but your body refused to respond. every nerve screamed in agony, and you could feel the warmth of blood seeping through your clothes, soaking into the earth beneath you. he groaned, a pained sound that sent a spike of fear through your heart. he was right there, just inches away, his eyes wide and unfocused as he struggled to breathe. you could see the blood trickling from a gash on his forehead, could see the way his chest heaved with every ragged breath.

“stay with me,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you reached out, your fingers brushing against his. "jungkook, stay with me." he turned his head toward you, his eyes locking onto yours. there was fear there, yes, but something else too—something that broke your heart even more. it was acceptance. a quiet, resigned acceptance that this was the end.

“i’m here,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the roar of the flames and the crumbling world around you. he tried to smile, a weak, trembling thing that made your heart ache. “i’m right here.” you forced yourself closer to him, every movement sending waves of pain through your battered body. but you didn’t care. all that mattered was getting to him, being with him, even if it was only for a few more moments.

“i’m sorry,” you choked out, tears blurring your vision as you finally reached him, your fingers intertwining with his. his hand was warm, his grip weak but steady. “i’m so sorry, jungkook.”

“shh,” he whispered, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand in a comforting gesture, despite the pain etched across his face. “it’s okay, it’s okay.”

but it wasn’t. it wasn’t okay at all. you could see the light fading from his eyes, could feel the way his grip was loosening, his strength slipping away. you wanted to fight it, to hold on to him, to refuse this cruel fate that was tearing him from you, but there was nothing you could do. the world was ending, and you were powerless to stop it.

“i love you,” he breathed, the words barely more than a whisper as his eyes fluttered closed. “i love you.”

the tears flowed freely now, hot and unchecked as you leaned in, pressing your forehead against his. “i love you too,” you whispered back, your voice breaking. “i love you so much.” and then, with a final shuddering breath, the life left his body.

“no,” you rasped, your voice raw, filled with a grief so deep it threatened to swallow you whole. you clutched him to you, your arms trembling as you held him close, as if you could somehow keep him here, keep him with you. “no, no, no please, no.” but he was gone. the realization hit you like another blast, a wave of pain and despair that ripped through your very soul. the world around you was crumbling, but all you could feel was the emptiness where he used to be. the world was gone, and so was he.

you didn’t even notice the others until you heard them shouting, their voices barely registering through the haze of grief. they were calling your name, screaming for you to move, to get up, but you couldn’t. you didn’t want to. the world was ending, and you wanted it to take you too. and then, the final blast hit. the world exploded into a blinding white light, a force so powerful it lifted you off the ground once more, tearing you away from jungkook’s lifeless body. you felt the searing heat, the crushing pressure, and then? nothing. darkness.

when you opened your eyes again, the world was still. still, silent and lonely, not a soul to harbor it but yours. the suffocating weight of death and destruction was gone, replaced by a heavy, eerie calm. you tried to move, to lift your head, but the effort felt impossible. every part of your body ached, a deep, bone-deep pain that left you gasping.

the ceiling above you was white, sterile, and familiar in a way that made your heart stutter. the sharp, chemical smell that filled your nostrils brought with it a wave of memories—memories of hospital corridors, of beeping machines, of the steady hum of fluorescent lights. a hospital. you blinked, trying to focus, your mind struggling to catch up with what you were seeing. slowly, your vision cleared, and you realized you were lying on a bed, wrapped in crisp, white sheets. the walls around you were painted in soft, muted tones, the kind designed to soothe, to comfort.

for a moment, you felt a strange sense of peace, a fleeting thought that maybe it had all been a nightmare—that you had simply woken up from a horrible, twisted dream. then, you heard it. you heard it all over again, because the sound was unmistakeable. silence.

✧.*

a/n: this took so long to write actually bye stream cosmic

roses (장미) — jeon jungkook (전정국)

✧.* WC: 11.9K

✧.* SYN: polar opposites were said to attract, but nobody specified when. no matter how beautiful, no matter how enchanting—sometimes, they were just made to repel.

✧.* 16+

roses were meant to be the symbol of love—romance captured in its purest form. their petals, silken and fragile, were light against the fingertips, and their colors, from the softest blush to the deepest crimson, seemed to glow with a kind of inner fire. roses were everything beautiful, everything tender. but to you, they were a lie.

for every rose, no matter how lovely, was laced with thorns. they were subtle, hiding just beneath the surface, waiting for a careless touch to remind you of their presence. they never scarred your fingers on purpose—how could they? the flowers themselves had no say in the sharpness of their defenses. and yet, they always found a way to mar your skin, leaving behind thin lines of pain, tiny rivers of blood mingling with the red of the petals. it was as if the rose took your blood as payment for its beauty, demanding a piece of you in exchange for the admiration it commanded. you couldn't see them as others did. where others saw a token of love, you saw a warning—a reminder that beauty often came with a cost, and that love, no matter how sweet, could hurt just as deeply.

you hated roses. not because they weren't beautiful, but because their beauty was tainted by the inevitability of pain. they were a paradox, a contradiction you could never reconcile. to love them was to accept the wounds they left behind, and you had no desire to be wounded. jungkook, with his warm eyes and gentle smile, knew this about you. he knew it better than anyone.

when you first started dating, he surprised you with a bouquet of red roses, each bloom more perfect than the last. they were vibrant, luxurious, their scent intoxicating in its richness. you smiled when you saw them, because how could you not? they were beautiful, after all, and he had chosen them with you in mind. but beneath your smile, a familiar unease churned. nothing that truly loved you, no matter how beautiful, would never hurt you. you didn't want to hurt his feelings, didn't want to dampen the joy in his eyes, so you accepted them with as much grace as you could muster. you held them close, careful not to let your fingers brush too harshly against the thorns. you placed them in water, tended to them, watched as their petals unfurled further, revealing their full splendor. yet, no matter how much care you gave them, they remained a symbol of everything you couldn't bring yourself to love.

the roses, with their beauty and their thorns, became a silent metaphor for your fears. they were a constant reminder that love—true, deep love—wasn't without its dangers. that even the most beautiful things could hurt you if you weren't careful. and so, while you couldn't see the beauty in the roses, you saw it in jungkook. you saw it in the way he beamed when he handed them to you, in the tenderness of his voice when he asked if you liked them. you saw the care he took in choosing them, the thoughtfulness behind his actions, and you loved him all the more for it. but the roses themselves? they remained, as ever, a source of quiet torment.

it wasn't until after a few dates that you finally confessed the truth. you remember the moment vividly—the way the words tumbled out of your mouth, hesitant yet firm, as you told him you didn't like roses. you hadn't intended to hurt him, and you could see the brief flicker of embarrassment in his eyes, the way his shoulders tensed slightly. “why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked, his voice tinged with regret. his fingers traced the edge of your hand, a silent apology in his touch.

you sighed, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. “i didn’t want to disappoint you. you were so thoughtful, i just didn’t have the heart to say it.”

“i’m sorry,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to the floor as if he’d wronged you in some unforgivable way. “i didn’t know.”

“it’s okay,” you assured him gently, lifting his chin so that his eyes met yours. “i kept every single one.” his eyes softened at your words, and a small, sheepish smile curved his lips. “really?”

“really,” you confirmed, squeezing his hand. “i may not love roses, but i love the thought behind them.”

the roses stopped after that day. in their place came something simpler, something that held a different kind of beauty. jungkook began to bring you dandelions, plucked from wherever he could find them, their bright yellow heads bobbing on slender green stems. they were humble, unpretentious, the kind of flower people often overlooked or dismissed as weeds. but to you, they were perfect.

you loved the way they scattered in the wind, carrying with them the weight of a thousand wishes. every time you held one in your hand, you couldn't resist closing your eyes, drawing in a breath, and blowing gently, sending the delicate seeds spiraling into the air. with each breath, you made a wish—small, secret hopes you whispered to the universe, trusting that somehow, some way, they would be heard. jungkook always watched you with a soft smile as you did this, his eyes never leaving your face. “what did you wish for?” he would ask, his voice warm and curious.

but you never told him. you always shook your head, a playful smile on your lips as you teased him with your silence. “i can’t tell you,” you’d say, “or it won’t come true.”

he would laugh, a rich, melodic sound that made your heart feel lighter than air. “one day, you’ll have to tell me,” he’d insist, though there was no urgency in his words—just the quiet patience of someone willing to wait as long as it took.

and maybe, one day, you would tell him. But for now, you kept your wishes close, letting them flutter away with the dandelion seeds, drifting on the breeze like tiny prayers. in truth, you always wished for the same thing—that you could hold on to this moment, to this feeling, forever. that the love you shared with jungkook, so pure and gentle, would last as long as there were dandelions to carry your wishes. you found comfort in the simplicity of the dandelions. there were no thorns, no hidden dangers. they were honest in their imperfection, and in that honesty, you found a kind of beauty that roses could never offer. the dandelions became a symbol of your love—humble, enduring, and free from the pain that had always accompanied the roses.

and every time jungkook brought you one, it felt like a promise—a promise that he understood, that he knew what you needed even before you did. it was a promise that he would never bring you pain, that he would love you in all the ways you needed to be loved, without the thorns, without the scars. you held on to that promise, just as you held on to each dandelion he gave you, treasuring it for what it was—a gift, not just of love, but of understanding. and as the seeds danced away on the wind, you knew that your wishes were safe, carried on the breath of a love that was as gentle and enduring as the flowers themselves.

“here’s your shirt,” you murmured, handing him the neatly folded fabric that felt heavier in your hands than it should have. the weight of finality clung to it, as if the fibers themselves had absorbed the tension between you, the countless unspoken words and unresolved feelings woven into the threads. you had gathered the last of jungkook's things, the remnants of a love that had once filled your home with warmth and light but now seemed to haunt it, like echoes of laughter long gone.

he took the shirt from you without looking up, his fingers brushing yours in a way that used to send a shiver of excitement through you. now, it only brought a dull ache, a reminder of what was slipping away. he had changed so much over the past year. the bright-eyed boy who once looked at you as if you hung the stars had morphed into someone distant, cold. his eyes, once filled with a warmth that made you feel seen, had grown dim, as though the light within him had burned out, leaving nothing but the shadows behind.

jungkook had quickly become the tear in your eye and the tear in your heart, a source of pain that gnawed at you from the inside out. he was no longer the man you fell in love with, but a stranger wearing his skin. you had watched the change happen slowly at first, like a creeping frost on a windowpane, but then it had sped up, and before you knew it, the warmth between you had been replaced by an icy silence. it was a silence that had once been comfortable, a shared space where words weren't needed because the understanding between you was so deep. now, it was a chasm, wide and unbridgeable, filled with all the things you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

the end had come faster than you had anticipated, but perhaps that was how these things always happened. you tried to brace yourself, to prepare for the inevitable, telling yourself over and over that not everything was forever. it was a mantra you repeated to numb the pain, to convince yourself that you could accept it. but how were you supposed to accept losing him when every part of you still clung to the hope that things could be different? that somehow, the man you loved was still in there, buried beneath the layers of hurt and distance?

you watched as he turned away from you, his manner dismissive in that distinctly masculine, emotionally restrained way that cut you deeper than any harsh word ever could. It was as if he had already moved on, as if this—your heartbreak—was nothing more than a trivial inconvenience. you knew he felt the weight of it too, that he wasn’t as unaffected as he wanted you to believe, but his silence was a wall, thick and impenetrable, that you couldn’t break through no matter how hard you tried.

he was about to walk out of your life for the last time, and you couldn't let him go without trying, just one more time, to reach him. to make him understand what this meant to you. the words were heavy on your tongue, almost too painful to speak, but you forced them out, your voice trembling with the weight of your confession. “i wished,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. the words caught in your throat, and you had to swallow hard to keep going. “i wished for us to be forever.”

the simplicity of the statement hung in the air between you, raw and vulnerable. it was the truth, stripped of all pretense, the most honest thing you had said in a long time. it was the wish you had made countless times, with dandelion seeds drifting on the wind, with every shooting star that crossed the night sky, with every single breath you had taken while lying beside him in the quiet of the night. it was the wish you had carried in your heart since the beginning, even as things began to unravel, even as the distance between you grew.

you saw the slight falter in his step as the words reached him. he stopped in his tracks, his back still turned to you, and for a moment, you thought he might say something. you held your breath, waiting for the sound of his voice, for anything that would tell you he still cared, that he still felt something. but the silence stretched on, heavy and oppressive, and you realized with a sinking heart that there was nothing left to say. he let the silence fill the space between you, allowing it to drown out your words, as if by not responding, he could erase them from existence.

the seconds dragged on like hours, the silence suffocating you as you stood there, waiting for a response that would never come. jungkook knew you were behind him, could probably feel the weight of your gaze on his back, but he didn't turn around. he didn't offer you the comfort of his eyes, the soft reassurance of his voice. Instead, he walked back inside, the door slamming shut behind him with a finality that echoed through the empty spaces of your heart.

you stared at the closed door, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes, but you blinked them back, refusing to cry. not there, not now. you had given him everything—your love, your trust, your dreams of a future together. and now, you had nothing left to give. the door had closed, not just on this chapter of your life, but on the possibility of ever finding solace in his arms again. the silence that followed was no longer comforting. it was deafening, a void that pressed in on you from all sides, reminding you of what you had lost. and in that silence, you knew the truth—you were no longer there. not in his heart, not in his mind. the person you had been, the person who had loved him with every fiber of her being, was gone, leaving behind nothing but a hollow shell of who you once were.

you forced yourself to leave, to walk away from the door that had once opened so easily for you. each step felt like a struggle, as if the weight of your heartbreak was pulling you down, making it hard to move forward. but you kept going, because you had no other choice. you couldn't stay in that place any longer, surrounded by memories that would only serve to haunt you. as you stepped out into the cool evening air, the world felt different—dimmer, less vibrant. It was as if the color had been drained from everything, leaving behind only shades of gray. the wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the faint scent of roses from a nearby garden. you inhaled sharply, the scent stinging your senses like the thorns that had once pierced your skin. and just like those thorns, the memories of your time with jungkook would leave scars—scars that would take time to heal, if they ever did at all.

you walked away, leaving behind the man who had once been your everything, and with each step, you felt the weight of the past slowly lifting from your shoulders. but the pain remained, sharp and aching, a reminder that some wounds run too deep to ever fully heal. and as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in darkness, you couldn't help but wonder if the wish you had once held so close to your heart had been nothing more than a foolish dream, carried away on the wind like dandelion seeds, never to come true.

when you returned home, the silence greeted you like an unwelcome guest, settling into every corner of the house, amplifying the emptiness that seemed to have grown overnight. the house felt colder, emptier than it ever had before, as though the very walls had absorbed the sorrow that weighed so heavily on your heart. and yet, nothing had changed. the furniture was still in its place, the same pictures hung on the walls, the same sunlight filtered through the windows, casting the same patterns on the floor. everything was as it had been, and yet, it all felt different—foreign, somehow, like you were a stranger in your own home.

you didn’t know why you had expected it to be any different. why had you thought, even for a moment, that the world would stop spinning on its axis just because your heart had been shattered? the absurdity of the thought struck you as both laughable and tragic. your heart was broken, yet the world found a way to keep spinning, indifferent to your pain. the birds still sang outside, the traffic still moved along the streets, and somewhere, people were still laughing, still loving, still living their lives as if nothing had happened. the world carried on, and you were left to pick up the pieces of a life that had been torn apart.

as you moved through the house, your gaze fell on the roses he had given you, still thriving in the crystal vases where you had carefully placed them. they stood proudly, their petals full and vibrant, a stark contrast to the withered dandelions that lay beside them. you had been diligent in changing the water, making sure the roses had everything they needed to flourish. and flourish they did, their beauty almost mocking in its perfection, as if to remind you of the love that had once been so full of promise.

but the dandelions—oh, the dandelions—they had not fared as well. you had taken extra care of them, watering them more frequently than you ever had with any other flowers, desperately trying to keep them alive. they were delicate, fragile things, just like the wishes you had whispered into the wind, and you had wanted them to last, to hold on to their golden beauty for just a little longer. but no matter how much care you gave them, they still found a way to wilt, their once bright yellow heads now drooping, petals shriveled and brown. they had died on you, leaving you with nothing but the memory of the hopes they had carried.

it was a bitter realization—one that struck deep, piercing through the numbness that had settled in your chest. you needed to stop watering dead flowers. the thought echoed in your mind, a painful truth you had been avoiding for far too long. the dandelions were gone, just like the love you had once shared with jungkook, and no amount of water or care could bring them back. it was over, and you had to let go. but letting go felt like an impossibility, like trying to breathe under water—each attempt only filled your lungs with more pain.

your eyes returned to the roses, and you realized just how little had changed. their beauty did not bring you any comfort. instead, it filled you with a deep, aching sense of emptiness. their perfection was a lie, a facade that hid the thorns lying just beneath the surface. thorns that had always been there, even when you hadn’t seen them, ready to pierce through the skin at the slightest touch. they were beautiful, yes, but their beauty came at a cost—one that you had paid dearly.

your heart sank as you reached out for the roses, your hand trembling slightly as you wrapped your fingers around the stems. you felt every prick, the way the thorns dug into the tender flesh of your palm, piercing through the surface with sharp, unyielding precision. the pain should have made you flinch, should have forced you to pull back, but instead, you tightened your grip, welcoming the sensation. it was almost a relief to feel something other than the hollow numbness that had been consuming you.

you watched, detached, as your blood began to seep from the wounds, mingling with the bright red petals, the crimson droplets staining the clear water. it was a sight both grotesque and mesmerizing—your life force mingling with the very thing that had symbolized your love, now tainted and corrupted. and yet, for the first time, it didn’t hurt. the pain was there, yes, but it was distant, as though it belonged to someone else, a stranger who had nothing to do with you.

you loosened your grip, letting the stems slip from your fingers and fall back into the vase. the blood on your hand began to dry, a faint stinging sensation left behind as a reminder of the thorns' touch. but the pain no longer mattered. it was just another sensation in a world that had become a blur of emotions too complex to untangle. you turned away from the flowers, leaving them behind as you walked further into the house, each step echoing in the silence that had settled around you. the rooms felt colder, the air thicker, as if the very atmosphere had shifted, mourning the loss that had taken place within those walls. but there was nothing left to mourn.

you slept. it was easier that way, easier to slip into the quiet oblivion of dreams where reality couldn’t reach you, where the sharp edges of your pain were softened, blurred by the fog of sleep. you slept because every time you woke up, the world was colder, more hostile, and you were too weak to face it. the bed, once shared, now felt like a vast, empty expanse, a void that swallowed you whole. the sheets still carried his scent, faint but there, a cruel reminder of what was lost. so, you buried yourself beneath them, cocooning yourself in a fragile barrier against the world.

every time you woke up, you were confronted with the same brutal truth: he was gone. the realization came slowly, like a wave that started far off in the distance, gaining strength as it approached until it crashed over you, relentless and unforgiving. it would hit you as you blinked yourself awake, in that brief, disorienting moment where you didn’t quite remember where you were. you reached out instinctively, your hand searching the space beside you, but it met only the cool emptiness of the sheets. the ache in your chest deepened, a hollow, gnawing pain that seemed to settle into your very bones.

you felt the urge to call him, to reach out to him, to hear his voice on the other end of the line—steady, warm, reassuring. your fingers would hover over your phone, trembling with the need to dial his number, to send a message, anything to break the silence that pressed down on you. but what was there to say? what could you possibly tell him that hadn’t already been left unspoken? the words died in your throat, choked by the knowledge that it wouldn’t change anything. he was no longer there, and no amount of pleading or wishing would bring him back.

and so, you turned away from the phone, sinking back into the bed, pulling the covers over your head as though you could block out the world itself. sleep became your refuge, your escape from the brutal clarity of consciousness. in sleep, you could forget, if only for a little while. in sleep, the weight of reality lifted, and you drifted into a world where things were as they should be, where he was still there, still yours.

but every time you woke up, the reality would crash back down on you, harder and more unbearable than before. the bed felt colder, the room emptier, and the silence heavier. it was as if the universe itself was conspiring to remind you of what you had lost, what had slipped through your fingers like grains of sand, impossible to grasp and hold on to. the disbelief settled into your chest like a stone, heavy and cold. it was easier to cling to that disbelief than to accept the truth, easier to let yourself be carried away by the numbness than to face the searing pain that lay just beneath the surface. you couldn’t believe it had happened, refused to let yourself truly accept that he was gone. had it happened? had you really lost him? the questions circled in your mind, relentless, unanswered, each one twisting the knife a little deeper into your heart.

you were confused, disoriented, lost in a labyrinth of grief that you didn’t know how to navigate. the world outside seemed distant, almost unreal, as though you were floating through it without truly being a part of it. the memories of him lingered like ghosts, haunting every corner of your mind, and you couldn’t tell where the past ended and the present began. everything was a blur, a swirl of emotions too tangled to unravel.

and so, you went back to sleep, because in sleep, the lines between reality and dreams were blurred, and you could still see him, still feel him. in your dreams, he was there, whole and real, his smile warm and bright, his touch gentle. in your dreams, he hadn’t left you, hadn’t walked away, and the world was still as it should be. you clung to those moments, those fleeting glimpses of a world that no longer existed, because they were all you had left. in sleep, the disbelief settled into temporary joy, a fragile, fleeting happiness that only existed in the depths of your mind. you knew it wasn’t real, knew that it would shatter the moment you woke up, but you held on to it anyway, desperate for any scrap of comfort. you would see him in your dreams, and for those precious moments, everything would be okay. you would laugh with him, talk with him, hold him, and it was as if nothing had changed.

but then you would wake up, and the illusion would fade, leaving you more broken than before. the bed would feel colder, the room quieter, the silence more suffocating. and you would lie there, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince yourself to get up, to face the day, but the weight of your denial would pull you back under. so you would close your eyes again, praying for sleep to take you, to pull you back into that world where he still existed, where you could pretend, if only for a little while, that everything was still the same. and so, you slept. and slept. and slept. because it was easier than facing the reality of a world without him.

jungkook shut down. it wasn’t something he consciously decided to do, but rather an instinctual retreat into himself, like a wounded animal seeking shelter in the darkest corner of the forest. his emotions were a storm that threatened to tear him apart, so he did the only thing he knew how—he numbed himself. he buried the pain deep, far beneath the surface, where he hoped it would never see the light of day.

his days became a monotonous blur of routine. he went through the motions, each one devoid of the color and warmth that had once defined his life. there was a bitter, metallic taste in his mouth that never seemed to go away, a constant reminder of the emptiness that had taken root in his heart. he woke up, dressed himself, and headed to the gym, as if the physical exertion could somehow drown out the chaos in his mind.

the gym became a sanctuary, the one place where he could lose himself in the rhythmic clanging of weights and the steady thump of his heartbeat in his ears. he lifted, the strain on his muscles a welcome distraction from the thoughts that threatened to consume him. he ran, his feet pounding against the treadmill in a desperate attempt to outrun the memories of you. but no matter how fast or how far he ran, they always threatened to catch up with him, lingering at the edges of his consciousness like a persistent shadow.

he pushed himself harder, ran until his lungs burned and his legs felt like they would give out beneath him. he jogged, then walked, then jogged again, anything to keep his body moving, to keep his mind from spiraling into the dark places he feared. the pain in his muscles was a dull, constant ache, but it was nothing compared to the void inside him, the hollow ache that seemed to have settled in his chest.

when he left the gym, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath, he found himself wandering aimlessly, as if searching for something—anything—that could fill the emptiness. he went to the market, seeking the comfort of familiarity in the mundane task of picking out fresh fruit. but even there, you haunted him. he would see the watermelons stacked neatly on the shelves, their bright, green rinds a stark contrast to the dullness of his mood, and he would be reminded of how much you loved them. he could almost hear your laughter, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about how sweet and refreshing they were on a hot summer day. the memory would twist the knife in his chest, and he would force himself to look away, to walk away, leaving the market with nothing but a bitter taste in his mouth.

nights were the worst. the silence of his apartment was suffocating, the loneliness almost unbearable. he started going to bars with his friends, seeking solace in the mind-numbing effects of alcohol. it was easier that way—easier to drown his sorrows in liquor, to forget, even if it was just for a little while. he would order round after round, paying for everyone, desperate to keep the drinks flowing, to keep the laughter and noise around him as a buffer against the silence that awaited him at home.

his friends would cheer, their voices loud and boisterous, their smiles wide and carefree. he would force himself to smile along with them, to laugh at their jokes, even as he felt the icy tendrils of grief winding tighter around his heart. the alcohol would dull the edges of his pain, make the world seem softer, more bearable, and for a few fleeting hours, he could almost forget. but he knew it wouldn’t last. it never did. he clung to those moments of reprieve, no matter how brief, no matter how hollow they left him feeling afterward. because as long as he could keep the pain at bay, as long as he could pretend, just for a little while, that he wasn’t completely shattered inside, he could survive. he needed those moments to last, needed them to stretch out into the dark hours of the night, to carry him through until the morning light.

but even as he forced himself to keep moving, to keep pushing forward, there was a part of him that knew he couldn’t keep this up forever. the weight of his grief was a constant, oppressive presence, and no amount of physical exertion or alcohol could truly erase it. he was running on borrowed time, and deep down, he feared the day when the numbness would wear off, and he would be left to face the full force of his emotions. so he shut down, closed himself off, and went through the motions, day after day, night after night. because it was easier than feeling, easier than confronting the reality of what he had lost. he couldn’t afford to break down, couldn’t afford to let himself fall apart, because he didn’t know if he would ever be able to put himself back together again.

you couldn’t cling to the false reality you had carefully constructed any longer. the threads holding it together unraveled, leaving you exposed to the raw truth you had desperately tried to ignore. the more you tried to force yourself back into the numb comfort of denial, the more reality clawed its way into your consciousness, demanding to be acknowledged. “why me?” the question echoed in your mind, relentless and unforgiving. you couldn’t understand how this had happened to you, how your life had spiraled into a pit of despair so deep you couldn’t see the bottom. what had you done to deserve this? what crime had you committed that was so terrible, so unforgivable, that you were now being punished in such a cruel and merciless way?

your thoughts were a chaotic swirl of anger and confusion, a storm that raged within you with no outlet, no direction. the more you tried to reason with yourself, the more frustrated you became. who could you blame for this? was it your fault? his? the universe’s? the questions tormented you, gnawing at your sanity, and with every passing minute, the fury inside you grew stronger, more uncontrollable.

there was nobody to lash out at, nobody to direct your anger toward. you were alone, left to wrestle with the seething emotions that had taken up residence in your heart. and every time your gaze fell upon the roses, still standing tall in their vase, they seemed to mock you, their vibrant beauty a contrast to the darkness that had settled over your life. they thrived, even as everything else around you withered away. their presence was a constant reminder of the love that had once been and the pain that remained. you had every right to hate them.

your hands trembled as you reached for the television remote, the plastic cool and unyielding against your skin. without thinking, you hurled it across the room, your vision blurring with the force of your anger. the vase shattered into a thousand tiny shards of glass, scattering across the floor in a sparkling array of destruction. but the roses—those damned roses—remained intact, their petals untouched, as if the chaos around them couldn’t reach their perfection.

you stared at the mess you had made, your chest heaving with ragged breaths, but there were no tears left to shed. the sadness that had once consumed you had been swallowed up by a burning rage, a fire that seemed to scorch everything in its path. how could he do this to you? how could he walk away, leaving you to pick up the pieces of a life that no longer made sense? the injustice of it all fueled the inferno in your heart, and you found yourself consumed by a single, overpowering desire: revenge. you wanted him to suffer, to feel the guilt that you believed should be eating away at him every second of every day. you wanted him to see you, to be reminded of everything he had thrown away, and you wanted him to beg for your forgiveness. if you couldn’t have peace, then you would have the satisfaction of knowing that he didn’t either.

with newfound resolve, you began to ready yourself. you meticulously prepared, every brush of makeup, every stroke of mascara, a declaration of war against the version of yourself that had crumbled in the wake of heartbreak. you refused to be the victim any longer. you would go out, find the pieces of yourself that still remained, and piece them together into something new—something that would draw his eyes back to you and make him realize what he had lost. you chose the bar carefully, the one where you knew he was a regular, where the chances of seeing him were high. as you slipped into a dress that clung to your figure, accentuating every curve, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. but the woman who looked back at you was a stranger—her eyes were sharp, glittering with the fury that had replaced every other emotion. the void was gone, buried beneath layers of anger and the determination to make him pay for the pain he had caused.

your heart hammered in your chest, a drumbeat of anticipation, and you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when you saw him. would he recognize you? would he see the fire in your eyes and understand that it was his doing? or would he turn away, indifferent to the transformation you had undergone? as you made your way to the door, your heels clicking against the floor, you clung to the hope that he would be there, that he would see you and fall to his knees in regret. but even as you tried to convince yourself that this was the outcome you wanted, a small, uncertain voice whispered in the back of your mind, asking if this was truly who you had become—someone who thrived on anger and revenge, who found solace in the idea of another’s suffering.

but you pushed that voice aside, determined to see this through. the fury in your veins was the only thing that felt real anymore, the only thing that kept you going. and so, you walked out the door, ready to confront the man who had once been your everything, even if it meant losing the last remnants of yourself in the process.

jungkook’s world had narrowed to a single point of focus—the relentless, unyielding ache inside him that refused to be named or tamed. it simmered beneath his skin, a beast with no outlet, coiled and ready to strike. the gym had become his sanctuary, a place where he could pound his fists into the heavy bag until his knuckles were raw and bleeding, until the sharp pain in his hands was all that existed in his mind. but even that wasn’t enough.

he hit the bag harder, his bare fists connecting with brutal force, over and over again. the sting of torn skin, the dull throb in his bones—none of it registered. all he knew was the rhythmic, punishing impact of his fists against the leather, the way his breath came in ragged gasps, the way his blood seemed to boil beneath the surface. he didn’t care that his knuckles were split, didn’t notice the way his sweat dripped off him in steady streams, matting his hair to his forehead and soaking through his clothes. he was beyond caring, beyond feeling anything other than the rage that consumed him.

he didn’t realize how loud the sound of his fists smashing into the bag had become, didn’t notice the way other gym-goers had started to watch, their eyes widening at the intensity of his aggression. they stared, some concerned, others keeping their distance, wary of the energy radiating off him in waves. but jungkook was oblivious, his focus entirely on the bag in front of him, as if it held all the answers to the chaos in his mind.

his thoughts were a tangled mess, a storm that raged without end. why was this happening to him? what had he done to deserve this? he needed answers, needed someone to blame, but the more he searched for a reason, the more elusive it became. the frustration gnawed at him, clawing at the inside of his chest until he felt like he might explode. he couldn’t make sense of the turmoil inside him, couldn’t find a way to quiet the incessant pounding of his heart or the restless tapping of his feet as he stood there, trying to regain control.

jungkook’s fingers twitched, playing with the edges of his gym towel, twisting it into knots as if the physical action could somehow unravel the knots inside his own head. his heart raced, a frantic beat that seemed to echo in the silence of his mind, a silence that only made him angrier. he hated the quiet, hated the way it left him alone with his thoughts, with the voices that whispered all sorts of things to him, things he didn’t want to hear, things that only made the fury inside him burn hotter.

he needed an escape, a way to release the tension that coiled inside him like a spring wound too tight. but nothing worked—nothing took the edge off the anger that bubbled just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over at any moment. he needed to feel something other than this gnawing, hollow rage, needed to drown out the noise in his head, even if only for a little while.

so he did what he always did when the pressure became too much to bear—he turned to the only temporary relief he knew. the bar called to him, a beacon of false hope in the darkness that had become his life. there, among the noise and the laughter, the clinking of glasses and the buzz of conversation, he could lose himself, if only for a little while. the alcohol would burn away the edges of his anger, would blur the sharp lines of his thoughts until they were nothing more than a dull ache in the back of his mind. he craved that numbness, the brief respite it offered, even if it never lasted.

as he left the gym, his mind was still running wild, the voices still whispering insidiously, feeding his anger, pushing him to the edge. he could feel the tension in his muscles, the way his hands still shook slightly from the exertion, the way his heart pounded with unresolved fury. but he pushed it all down, burying it deep inside as he made his way to the bar, seeking out the oblivion he so desperately needed. the world outside seemed indifferent to his turmoil—the sun still shone, people still went about their day, oblivious to the storm that raged within him. and that only made him angrier, made him feel even more isolated, as if he was the only one trapped in this endless cycle of anger and pain. but the bar was waiting, the promise of temporary relief dangling just out of reach, and he latched onto that hope, no matter how fleeting, no matter how false. it was all he had left.

you stepped into the bar with a forced sense of confidence, your heels clicking against the worn wooden floor as you entered. the dim lighting cast shadows over your face, but you convinced yourself that every pair of eyes followed your every move. you had to believe it, even if it wasn’t true. you were determined to be the center of attention, to show the world, and more importantly, to show him what he had let go.

as you approached the bar, you held your head high, the tension in your shoulders disguising the fragility beneath. the bartender caught your eye, and you ordered your drink with a voice that sounded stronger than you felt. the glass was cool in your hand, a momentary relief as you took a sip. the burn of the alcohol was sharp, a distraction from the thoughts swirling in your mind.

with every sip, the anger that had fueled you began to dissipate, leaving a hollow space in its wake. the bar's noise faded into the background, and your thoughts grew louder, clearer. you began to think—really think—about everything that had happened. the whirlwind of emotions, the moments you thought were forever, and the sudden, jarring end that left you lost.

the more you thought, the more you began to pray. it started as a whisper in your mind, a plea to the universe, to whatever force controlled fate. you begged for a chance to undo the past, to turn back time, to rewrite your story. you wished for him, for the universe to bring him back into your life, for the pain to dissolve and be replaced with the love you once knew.

your thoughts spiraled, one after another, questioning everything. what if you had done something differently? what if you had fought harder, loved him more, or been more forgiving? what if this was all a test, and you were meant to prove that your love was stronger than the pain? you pondered every possibility, every twist of fate that could have led to a different ending. the more you thought, the more desperate your prayers became. you weren’t just asking—you were begging, pleading with whatever power might be listening. you needed him back; you needed him to see you, to realize what he had walked away from. you would do anything, give anything, to have him in your life again.

as you stared into the depths of your glass, the alcohol no longer brought relief. Instead, it amplified the ache in your chest, the void that only he could fill. the world around you faded, leaving you alone with your thoughts, your prayers, and the unbearable longing that consumed you. you wanted to make it clear, to whatever force might be listening, that you would do anything—everything—to have him back. you needed him to know, needed the universe to know, that your love was stronger than the pain, stronger than the anger, and that you were willing to fight for it, no matter the cost.

jungkook walked through the dimly lit streets, the cool night air biting at his skin, but he barely felt it. his thoughts were too loud, drowning out the world around him. he replayed every moment with you in his mind, dissecting each word, each touch, each mistake. the pain in his chest was sharp, a constant reminder of what he had lost. he wondered if there was anything he could do to have you back, even for a fleeting moment.

he knew the truth, though. he knew he couldn’t have you the way he used to. he had been selfish, too caught up in his own world, too focused on his own fears. he had pushed you away, bit by bit, until there was nothing left to hold onto. you were the opposite of him in so many ways. where he was sharp and jagged, you were soft and warm. where he built walls, you built bridges. you knew how to fulfill wishes, how to bring hope to the hopeless. that was why people were drawn to you, why they loved you.

but he had pushed you away, scared you off with his sharpness, with the very things he thought were protecting him. he often hurt people, unintentionally but inevitably, and it was exactly how he lost you. he hated himself for it, for letting his fears get in the way of something so beautiful. he was beautiful on the outside, and you knew it. but the more he had let you in, the more he found himself hurting you, even if it wasn’t intentional. you had a way of mingling with the night sky, floating in the air in an etherreal way that gave those around you a sense of relief, as if their wishes were being fulfilled, whereas he was nothing of the sort. he was pretty, and with beauty, there was the inevitable pain attached to it.

he needed you, even if it was just for a moment. he needed to see you, to feel the warmth of your presence, to remind himself of what he had once had and lost. his mind raced with thoughts of how he could make it happen, what he could do to have you back, even if it was just for a second. he would give anything to look at you, to see the way you smiled, to remember what it felt like to be loved by you. as he approached the bar, his heart pounded in his chest, a mix of anticipation and dread. he hadn’t planned on seeing you here, hadn’t even thought it was possible. but as he stepped inside, his eyes scanned the room, and there you were, sitting at the bar, a vision of everything he had lost.

the world seemed to stop for a moment as he took you in. you were beautiful, more beautiful than he remembered, but it wasn’t just your appearance that drew him in. it was the way you carried yourself, the way you seemed to light up the room even when you were sitting there alone. he could see the sadness in your eyes, the way you sipped your drink like it was a lifeline, and his heart ached for you, for the pain he knew he had caused. he wanted to go to you, to say something, anything, but his feet were rooted to the ground. he couldn’t move, couldn’t bring himself to take that step. what would he say? what could he say that would make any of this better? he had lost his chance, and now all he could do was stand there, watching you, begging the universe for just one more moment.

but the universe was silent, offering him no answers, no solace. all he could do was watch as you sat there, beautiful and sad, and wonder how he had ever let you go. the weight of his regret was crushing, and he knew that no amount of wishing could change what had happened. he had lost you, and now all he could do was live with the pain of that loss. so he stood there, frozen in place, watching you from across the room, the distance between you feeling insurmountable. he didn’t approach you, didn’t say a word. he just watched, his heart heavy with the knowledge that he would never have you the way he once did, that the only thing he could do now was remember, and regret, and wish for things that could never be.

the neon lights of the city danced in the puddles of rainwater, casting an eerie glow across the deserted streets. it was a night much like any other, except for the quiet ache in your chest that had been lingering for months. the rain had picked up just as you stepped out of the bar, the droplets mingling with the tears that had been threatening to spill since the moment you saw jungkook standing by the entrance. the silence between you had been deafening, a cruel contrast to the laughter and shared secrets that once filled the air. now, you found yourself walking in the same direction as him, the cold rain a pitiful excuse for the chills that ran down your spine.

his eyes met yours, a silent question hanging in the air. he offered a tentative smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes, and you felt your heart stumble. without a word, you turned and ducked into the nearest alley, the rain a veil hiding your desperate hope that he’d follow. the seconds stretched out like a tightrope between you, each drop of water echoing in the silence until you heard his footsteps approaching.

he stepped into the alley, the rain soaking his dark hair and tracing lines down his cheeks. he looked at you, his gaze intense and searching, as if trying to read the story etched on your face. you took a deep breath, the scent of wet concrete and rain-soaked asphalt filling your lungs, and closed the distance between you. the rain grew heavier, but the only sound you heard was the thundering of your heart, the universe seemingly holding its breath for what was to come.

jungkook reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he brushed the wet strands of hair from your face. his touch sent a jolt through your body, a reminder of the electricity that had once danced between you. his thumb traced the outline of your jaw, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. you leaned into his touch, your own hand finding its way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. it was a silent conversation, a dance of longing and regret that needed no words.

with a soft sigh, you raised your face to his, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips met yours. it was a kiss that held the weight of a thousand unsaid i love yous, a silent apology for the time lost and the chances squandered. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as the rain continued to pound against the two of you, a cocoon of pain and passion. the alley was a sanctuary for your fleeting reunion, a place where the outside world couldn't intrude.

you both knew it wouldn’t last, that the universe had only granted you this one night to set things right. but for now, you were lost in the warmth of his embrace, the taste of him on your lips, and the feel of his skin against yours. you allowed yourself to believe in the lie that this could change everything, that you could have a second chance. his hands roamed your body, relearning every curve and contour as if trying to burn the memory into his soul. the rain soaked through your clothes, melding you together in a bittersweet symphony of desire and despair.

the night unfolded in a haze of passion, every touch a whispered promise of what could have been. the air grew thick with the scent of rain and the heat of your bodies as you stumbled into his apartment, a silent agreement hanging in the air. the room was dimly lit, the rain now a gentle lullaby against the windows, the only sound the ragged breaths and soft moans that filled the space. you let him lead you to his bed, the softness of the sheets a contrast to the tumultuous storm raging within you.

as you lay together, the storm outside mirroring the one in your hearts, you felt the sting of tears on your cheeks. jungkook kissed them away, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. you didn't speak, didn't dare to break the spell with words that could shatter the illusion. instead, you communicated with touches and sighs, your bodies speaking a language that transcended the limitations of speech. the moments were fleeting, the time slipping away like the rainwater down the drain. you both knew it was just a temporary reprieve from the cold reality that awaited you come morning. yet, as you tangled together, lost in the warmth of his arms, you couldn’t help but cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, the universe had chosen to tip the scales in your favor tonight.

but even as the thought whispered through your mind, the weight of the truth settled in your chest like a stone. the universe had never played favorites, and it wasn’t about to start now. this was just a brief intermission in the grand play of life, a poignant reminder of the love that once was and could never be again. as dawn approached, you lay there, your hearts racing, your bodies slick with sweat and the scent of each other. the rain had stopped, leaving only the quiet hum of the city waking up around you. jungkook's grip on you tightened, as if he could hold onto the moment forever. but the light grew brighter, and the shadows of doubt began to creep in, painting the walls with the harsh strokes of reality.

you knew it was over, that the universe had collected its debt and the bill was now due. you pulled away from him, the cold air hitting your skin like a slap. you dressed in silence, the weight of your clothes feeling heavier than the armor of a thousand warriors. jungkook watched you, his eyes filled with a sadness that mirrored your own, his expression a silent plea for you to stay. but you couldn’t. the sun was rising, and with it, the inevitable end to your stolen night. you whispered a goodbye, the finality of the word cutting through the air like a knife. he nodded, understanding in his eyes as you stepped out.

the days stretched out like an endless, monochromatic expanse, each one bleeding into the next with a sense of profound emptiness. the world outside your window seemed to spin on, indifferent to your internal collapse. you found yourself in a state of profound disconnection, where everything once vibrant had faded to gray.

you no longer cried, not because you had run out of tears, but because the depth of your sorrow had become a silent, consuming void. your eyes, once accustomed to weeping, now felt parched and vacant. the tears had dried up, leaving behind a dryness that mirrored the desolation within you. the very act of crying had become a distant memory, a faint echo of the anguish that had once poured forth uncontrollably.

the ache of his absence was now a dull, relentless throb in your chest. you moved through your days with a leaden sense of inertia, your limbs heavy and unresponsive. the bed you once shared with him felt like a vast, hollow expanse. you lay there, staring up at the ceiling, the sheets cold and uninviting. the warmth of his presence had been replaced by an oppressive chill that seemed to seep into your bones.

you had lost your motivation, the spark that once drove you to engage with the world had flickered and died. the things that used to bring you joy now felt like meaningless rituals. you had no desire to engage with anything—no will to cook, to read, to socialize. the activities that once held meaning now seemed like empty gestures, as though they belonged to a past self you could barely recognize.

every corner of your home seemed to mock you with reminders of his absence. the roses he had given you still stood in their vases, their petals vibrant yet wilting against the muted backdrop of your sorrow. they had become a symbol of your hollow grief, their beauty now tainted by the pain they represented. they, too, had started to wilt. you found yourself unable to touch them, unable to bring yourself to care for them. they were a reminder of what had been lost, and their presence only served to deepen the emptiness.

the moments you had once cherished now felt like fleeting illusions. the memories of his touch, his laughter, his smile—they all seemed like echoes from a distant, unreachable past. they hovered around you, tantalizingly close, yet forever out of reach. the very essence of him had become a temporary fixture in your life, a fleeting warmth that had vanished as quickly as it had arrived. your days blended into a monotonous routine, each one passing in a blur of gray and silence. you moved through your life with an automaton’s grace, performing tasks without passion or enthusiasm. the mirror reflected a face that seemed unfamiliar—hollowed eyes, a wan smile that never quite reached your eyes. the person you saw there was a shadow of who you once were, a shell that had been hollowed out by the weight of your grief.

even as you went through the motions of daily life, your mind was a swirling vortex of despair and disillusionment. you felt disconnected from everything, as though you were observing your own existence from a distance. your body was present, but your spirit seemed to have retreated into a dark, inaccessible corner. the world was a blur of indistinct shapes and sounds, and you struggled to find meaning in anything. in the quiet of your solitude, you found yourself lost in a labyrinth of thoughts that offered no solace. the emptiness was all-consuming, a deep well that seemed to have no bottom. the once vibrant, hopeful person you had been now felt like a distant memory, a ghost of a self that had been irrevocably altered by the loss of him.

jungkook lay in the darkness of his room, the sheets crumpled around him, a silent testament to the upheaval of his emotions. the room was heavy with the scent of you, a lingering fragrance that had become both a balm and a torment. the aroma of you clung to the fabric, a ghostly reminder of a presence now painfully out of reach. he buried his face in the pillow, the soft, familiar scent washing over him like a bittersweet wave, mingling with the dampness of his tears.

his heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, each beat a sharp pang of longing and regret. he clung to the pillow, clutching it as if it were a lifeline, trying desperately to hold onto the remnants of you. the tears streamed down his face, hot and relentless, soaking the fabric beneath him. he sobbed into the pillow, his cries muffled but raw, each sound an expression of his overwhelming grief. he could no longer see clearly through his tears, but the darkness of the room seemed to envelop him, pressing down on him with a suffocating weight. your absence was a gaping void that filled the space around him, amplifying his sense of loneliness. the bed, once a place of comfort and shared warmth, now felt like a desolate expanse where he lay alone, adrift in his sorrow.

desperation clawed at him, driving him to a place where he sought to express his pain in ways that went beyond mere tears. his hands, once gentle and loving, now sought a different outlet for his anguish. with a shuddering breath, he pushed himself up from the bed and stumbled to the wall, the dim light casting long shadows that danced with his movements. his knuckles, still raw from previous attempts to subdue his rage, were now red and bruised, but the pain seemed to offer a distorted sense of relief.

he pounded his fists against the wall, the sound of his blows echoing through the room. each hit was not driven by anger but by a profound sadness that had consumed him entirely. he felt the sting of the impact, the dull ache of his knuckles meeting the unforgiving surface. his punches were more of a plea than a fight—a plea to feel something other than the empty ache in his chest, a desperate attempt to make the void of your absence tangible.

the walls bore the brunt of his sorrow, and the small marks left by his fists seemed to mock his attempts to find solace. the physical pain was a poor substitute for the emotional torment, but it was the only thing he could grasp at in his moments of despair. the act of hurting himself became a ritual of sorts, a way to channel the overwhelming sadness that threatened to drown him.

he collapsed back onto the bed, his breath coming in ragged gasps, and his hands, now throbbing with the aftereffects of his self-inflicted blows, rested limply by his sides. the room was silent save for the soft rustle of the sheets and his uneven breathing. he stared up at the ceiling, the darkness above him a mirror of the darkness within. his mind was a whirlwind of fragmented thoughts and memories. He replayed moments with you over and over, each memory a painful reminder of what had been lost. the scent of you on the sheets, once a comfort, now felt like a cruel joke, a reminder of how close yet how unreachable you were. he wished he could reach out to you, to call you and hear your voice, but the reality of your absence was a constant, unyielding presence in his life.

jungkook’s sorrow had transformed into a deep, gnawing depression that consumed every corner of his existence. he felt hollow, his body moving through the motions of daily life with a mechanical detachment. the days blended into a blur, each one marked by a sense of loss and longing. his emotions were a tumultuous sea, and he struggled to find solid ground amidst the crashing waves. every time he lay down, every time he stared at the empty space beside him, the grief would engulf him anew. the scent of you, the lingering touch of your presence, was both a comfort and a torment. he was caught in a cycle of remembering and mourning, unable to escape the pain that had become a constant companion. the bed, the walls, the silence—everything around him seemed to echo the emptiness of your absence, amplifying his despair.

you had spent days entangled in the suffocating grip of despair, every day a struggle to drag yourself through the motions of life. your home, once filled with the remnants of a love that now felt like a distant dream, had become a place where echoes of your pain reverberated endlessly. but as time wore on, there came a moment—a quiet, insistent moment—when the weight of your sorrow began to lift, if only slightly.

the realization that you had been clinging to a fractured ideal of the past started to seep into your consciousness. you began to accept that what you wished for, what you had yearned for so desperately, was not something that could be willed back into existence. the journey to acceptance was not instantaneous; it was a slow, deliberate process, marked by small victories and subtle shifts in your mindset.

you found solace in the mundane details of daily life. you began to notice the subtle beauty in everyday moments—the way the sunlight filtered through your window, the calming rhythm of your breath as you practiced mindfulness, the comforting hum of routine, and the way the godforsaken roses had finally withered away. slowly, you started to feel a sense of security in these ordinary rituals. they were reminders that life, while changed, continued to offer moments of tranquility and purpose.

as you ventured out into the world, your heart began to open up to new experiences. a first date—a simple, unremarkable event—brought with it a feeling of genuine happiness that you hadn't experienced in a long time. it was a tentative, fragile joy, but it was there nonetheless. you allowed yourself to be present, to savor the laughter and the connection, to let go of the lingering shadows of the past. the date was a pleasant surprise, an unexpected gift of normalcy and hope. as you walked hand-in-hand with your companion, you felt a warmth in your chest that had been absent for too long. the world seemed to expand around you, filled with possibilities rather than regrets. you were starting to live again, to feel alive.

at the end of the evening, as you were handed a bouquet of flowers, your heart fluttered with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity. the flowers were beautiful, vibrant red roses, their petals soft and inviting. you accepted them with a genuine smile, letting their delicate fragrance mingle with the newfound joy you were experiencing. the sight of the roses, however, didn’t evoke the visceral reaction they once did. instead, they were simply another part of your reality, no longer a symbol of the pain that once defined your days.

what you didn't realize was that jungkook had been waiting nearby, a bouquet of dandelions clutched in his hands. he had hoped to see you, to offer you something that held meaning for both of you. but as he watched from the shadows, his heart sank when he saw you take the roses with such ease, a gesture that seemed to signify a quiet acceptance of a reality that he himself struggled to embrace.

the sight of you with the roses, when he knew how much you had loved dandelions, was a harsh reminder of the chasm that had grown between you. it was a moment that crystallized the harsh truth he had been avoiding—your life had moved on, had found new sources of happiness and meaning, while he remained anchored in the past. the acceptance he had hoped to find in his own heart seemed elusive, overshadowed by the painful reality of watching you embrace a new chapter without him. jungkook stood there, paralyzed by the sight before him. the dandelions in his hand felt like a cruel joke now, a poignant symbol of what could have been. they were meant to be a token of his love, a way to reconnect with the joy you had once shared. but seeing you with the roses, accepting them so effortlessly, made the dandelions seem insignificant, a mere relic of a bygone era.

in that moment, he faced the unyielding truth of his situation: the reality he had been trying to avoid was indeed cruel and unforgiving. his heart ached with a profound sense of loss, but beneath the pain was a new understanding. acceptance was a bitter pill to swallow, but as he watched you with the roses, he began to grasp its necessity. as you walked away with your bouquet, your happiness palpable, jungkook was left alone with his dandelions and the reality that you had found a way to move forward. the once vivid pain of your absence was now tempered by a melancholic acceptance. it was a realization that, no matter how much he wished things could be different, the world continued to turn, with or without him in your life.

the sky was a somber gray, an oppressive expanse that stretched endlessly above you, mirroring the weight that settled heavily on your heart. you stood there, clutching the bouquet of roses in your hands, their vibrant red a definite contrast to the bleak backdrop of the overcast day. the flowers, once symbols of love now transformed into markers of loss, felt heavy and poignant.

you had come to understand something profound in this moment—something that had eluded you for so long. you understood why jungkook had been drawn to these roses, why they had held such a special place in his heart. the roses were undeniably beautiful, their petals velvety and rich, a testament to nature’s ability to create splendor even in the face of hardship. but you also grasped the deeper truth: beauty, as with everything, came at a price. the thorns of the rose were not just physical barriers; they were metaphors for the pain that often accompanied true beauty and love.

as you held the bouquet, you let yourself marvel at the roses’ splendor. each petal was like a delicate brushstroke of crimson on a canvas of green, a fleeting masterpiece of nature. you ran your fingers gently over the petals, feeling their softness, their warmth, and for a moment, you were lost in their beauty. the roses were not just flowers; they were a testament to the complexity of emotions and experiences.

a tear, born from the depths of your sorrow, slipped silently down your cheek. it landed softly on one of the petals, its glistening drop mingling with the rose's vibrant hue. you watched in a kind of mesmerized sadness as the tear traced a slow, shimmering path over the surface of the petal. it was a testament to the pain you felt, yet the flower remained unwavering in its beauty. the tear did not diminish the rose's allure; it merely added to its story, making it all the more poignant.

with careful reverence, you approached jungkook’s grave, the final resting place of the person whose absence had left a void in your life. the roses, now intertwined with your sorrow, seemed to carry a weight that transcended their mere physical presence. you set them gently by his grave, placing them with a tenderness that spoke of your deep, unspoken grief.

the wind stirred, causing the petals to flutter ever so slightly, as if acknowledging the gesture. as you stepped back, you observed the bouquet resting there, a symbol of your enduring affection, and also of your newfound understanding of the delicate balance between beauty and suffering. the roses, despite the tear that marked them, remained beautiful—unblemished in their elegance, a reflection of the love and the pain they represented.

the realization hit you with a cruel clarity: even as the roses symbolized something deeply personal and painful, they also embodied an immutable truth about beauty. it was a truth that jungkook had understood far better than you could have ever realized before. his love for the roses had been an acknowledgment of their dual nature—their ability to captivate and hurt simultaneously.

you stood there, feeling a quiet, aching acceptance. the sky above remained gray, a canvas as muted as the feelings swirling within you. the roses danced in the eind, their thorns seemingly harmless now, their crimson petals vibrant as the wind blew against them. they were beautiful, just as he was. if only they hadn’t withered as quickly as they did. maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have either.

✧.*

a/n: modu uril chyeodabwa