Amour [Jungkook]

Snaps – jjk

Summary: A tale of you as Jungkook’s assistant while he goes around with a camera strapped to his neck. More accurately, you being annoyed at him treating you like a mini helper and him cheekily taking more than six months to admit he loves you.

Genre/warnings: photographer!Jungkook, assistant/music producer!reader, neighbours au, pure fluff

Word count: 10,359

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Author’s note: This is my very first JK post. Thank you for reading!

Your ringtone and alarm must have decided to conspire together the night prior since both were screeching at the unconscious depths of your brain to bring you back to reality. Checking the caller ID wasn’t required – there was only one person who would give you such a rude awakening.

“Hel-“

“Snow! Finally! What took you so long?”

“... it’s seven thirty. In the morning. You told me to be up by eight.”

“But I’m hungry,” his whining on the other end was nearly as bad as the alarm, one you shut off with a slam. “I want bean sprout rice with kimchi, galbi and cold cucumber soup. And pork tonkatsu.”

Your face took on the same expression as an emoji with three short lines for its eyes and mouth. “Will that be all?”

“One cappuccino too, please.”

“Alright Jeon, thank you for ordering room service,” sweet sarcasm dripped from your tone like honey, “your food will be delivered shortly.”

Unbeknownst to you, your muffled groan was audible through the speaker, making him chuckle.

***

A white pot of violet orchids perched on the small corner of your designated desk reminded you that your boss wasn’t as annoying as you thought. Jeon Jungkook didn’t buy gifts for you often, or even at all, so to say you were surprised by it six months into your time as an assistant was an understatement.

It confused you from the very beginning as to why a professional photographer had placed a job offer for someone to be his administrative assistant. You had soon discovered the reason after taking a curious peek into his online portfolio and resume – the number of pictures and videos he had taken during his time as a freelancer, all organised under specific categories you might add, starting from before college to various art galleries he had featured at, had made him one of the most sought-after photographers in your small town.

Weddings, parties, galas, magazine covers, news coverage, birthdays, family portraits, Christmas or Halloween... the list was seemingly endless. For someone at the tender age of twenty-two, he had a dream he set out and accomplished, but with the rise to fame came hectic schedules and tight deadlines, which was the entire reason you were there.

Saying “no” to events meant denying himself the source of his rather large income. Jungkook became aware with his increasing popularity that he needed someone to manage his time for him, answer calls for commissions, pen down his arrangements on a planner, freshen up between shoot sessions and made sure he ate three square meals a day. In essence, you felt like weren’t his secretary so much as you were his maid. You just thanked your lucky stars that your uncle’s chef expertise had rubbed off very well on you before you moved out of your home.

A combination of convenience and cooking skills were the main selling point for him to take you in immediately, not the degree you had in music and composition you actually poured your blood, sweat and tears into for four years. “Convenience” referred to the fact that your new apartment sat directly opposite his, yet his still insisted you go over five days a week to keep him, more correctly his kitchen, company.

Metal creaking jolted you out of your thoughts, stare shifting from purple and white petals to the figure gliding past your desk after Jungkook exited his studio, coming to a stop in front of you to shoot his smirk your way.

“Ready to go, snow?”

Your compulsion to roll your eyes at the nickname was overpowered by shoving a planner you used for him into your work bag. The only time you remembered him calling you by your actual name was when you had first met him along the corridor. Winter had overtaken autumn in November, the same month you moved in, snowflakes stuck themselves into your eyelashes and hair, refusing to melt and causing him to call you out for it.

You reviewed his schedule for the day after slipping into his car. Words you’d scribbled in black informed you of the location you were headed for the day; a magazine shoot for three important businessmen, who had gone from creating codes for protecting computers from malware to developing an artificial intelligence personal assistant to help the disabled, particularly those who were illiterate.

“Did you bring everything?” Jungkook spoke over the classical music streaming from his speakers, casting a glance at you briefly.

You peeked into a backpack you always brought along with you. “Water bottle, fan, spare batteries, extra SD card, and–“ you jabbed a thumb over your shoulder “–your tripod’s in the trunk.”

“And my camera?”

“Back seat. Or attached to your neck.”

He chuckled at your bluntness, “You know me too well, snow. How about lunch?”

“Lunch?” The grip you had to hold the book open went slack, thoughts picturing his fridge that you knew could use refilling, “I didn’t have time to cook this morning. You’re almost out of food, by the way.”

“Hm…” four of his fingers drummed in a wave pattern on the wheel, eyes fixated on the road, “then let’s eat out for today. Oh, and we’re going shopping after this, so add that in.”

“Shopping?”

“I’m attending a gala one week from now,” the words had you scanning the calendar for the exact date to write it down, “I need a new suit.”

“If you say so. Where’s the gala going to be held?”

“Luxe Resort.”

The five star hotel’s name would have made anyone else choke on air, but not you. Accompanying him extravagant places were something you had gotten accustomed to in knowledge of his line of work. He could knock on your door with tickets to New York, Milan or Paris and you wouldn’t even blink.

“Got it.”

Sky blue reflecting off the glass panels of the building’s exterior with steel lining the edges greeted you upon stepping out of the outdoor, sheltered carpark. Still, your time to admire the company’s name etched in gold on the glass double doors was cut short in order to pull the backpack and tripod, both of equal weight, over your shoulders, trudging behind him while frowning at the black leather strap he slung around his neck. His camera was the only thing he willingly carried with him.

Entering the reception with his long strides paired with his usual confident swagger caught the attention of the lady behind the counter, and this time you did roll your eyes at the wink he gave her in thanks for confirming the appointment. A fake smile pulled the corners of your lips when he slipped the guest ID lanyard over your head with an affectionate ruffle of your hair.

“There you go, snow. Now follow me.”

Once you reached the studio, you fell into your usual routine – Jungkook shaking hands with the set designer and models, you setting up the tripod where the camera was fitted on top. There were no interactions with anyone except those who approached you first. The models were especially off-limits, as well as those with a higher-up position who visited the set just to monitor the progress.

You positioned yourself in a corner at a distance from the rest of the staff where you didn’t bother them, but close so you could help your boss. This was him in his element, peering through a lens, directing the positions of the models in that polite yet slightly authoritative tone, making requests for adjustments to lighting, searching for the perfect angle and shot size.

Tripod standby came next, the part of the shoot where Jungkook transferred his camera to and fro from the stand to hand-held shots, you adjusting the height according to what he wanted, then pulling it away entirely if he didn’t need it.

It was in the switch from group to solo shots did he need you to be on what you deemed “assistant duties”, because nothing irritated you more than him snapping his fingers at you, a sign he wanted a drink from his water bottle. Gazes of those around you burned the same way your cheeks did watching you wait on him to finish taking a gulp, a second pat on your head prompting someone to murmur behind you Is she his assistant or his girlfriend?

You weren’t sure which was worse.

The end of the shoot came precisely when the hour and minute hands signified one on your watch, everyone thanking each other for their hard work, models clapping Jungkook on the back or shaking his hand as he promised them he could be back the next time they needed him. None, save a mussed-hair stressed intern who gave you a thumbs-up, spared you a glance while you packed up, trailing behind him to the car after depositing the lanyards.

“Where to now?” You sighed at him settling in the driver’s seat, placing the tripod in the backseat carefully.

“Shopping, remember? Seokjin said Jewel Mall sells the best suits.”

Three digit numbers slashed across price tags in bold set alarm bells off in your head, but it was his bank account taking the hit and not yours, so you voiced out, “Okay. You’re the boss.”

***

More concerned stares were thrown your way, this time by the attendants stationed around the suit shop who watched the sole patron place blazers and pants over your outstretched left arm. After six, you lost track of the number, busy hoping your glare burned through his button-down shirt every time he had his back to you.

The fanciful changing rooms gave your feet welcome relief as you sank down into one of the cream couches, all of his choices laid out next to you to be handed to him one by one. Jungkook wasn’t kidding about the whole “personal assistant” deal. You just hadn’t see it coming that it included this, not as you picked at the gold fabric lining the exterior of a throw pillow.

You should have felt out of place in your casual attire – white shirt, light wash jeans, sneakers and clover green jacket – though you learnt three months into the job that the workers cared more about the person with a heavier wallet and sparkling credit cards filling the spaces between them. Piano music streaming through the speakers softly, a song you recognised to be Nocturnes in E Flat Major Op. 9 by Chopin and Rubinstein, relaxed your stature that little bit more into the back rest and had your hands gently tapping on the top of your jean-clad knees to the rhythm.

Till the curtain of Jungkook’s changing room was yanked aside with a dramatic flourish.

The number one reason females you met in his photo shoots stayed was because they were makeup artists, but being in the background, you observe their eyes trailing onto your boss and staying there, whispering to each other behind cupped hands to hide flushed cheeks. Because of one simple fact, a fact your imbecilic heart couldn’t deny since the first day you met him in the corridor.

Jungkook was undeniably more handsome than you gave him credit for. Watching him then, donning a navy blue blazer and matching dress pants in the same white button-down, your vital organ couldn’t help its little stutter. How he hadn’t dated anyone was a mystery to you; he had the ability to charm anyone into falling for him.

“How do I look, snow?” Long, slow steps accompanied the equally dramatic sweeping of his hair away from his forehead, coming to a stop inches away from you with a smirk.

“Try the rest of them on and we’ll see,” your flickering gaze was in time with mentally counting those laid on the couch. “You still have eight more to go. Yay.”

“Aww, come on,” the jut his lower lip paired with large puppy eyes almost had your heart doing another flip, “would it kill you to admit that I look good?”

“Probably. But…” against your self-control, you got to your feet and helped insert the sole button into its little placement, “you’ll have to find someone else to be your assistant when I die, and I don’t want them to go through that sort of pain, so yes,” you sighed, “you don’t look half bad.”

The effect of his scoff was diminished by the smile perking the corners of his lips up. “Half bad? Please. I’m handsome. Say it.”

“For real?”

“Say I’m handsome.”

“Why?”

One tug on your waist had Jungkook’s breath fanning your face, any distance between you eliminated, “Say it.”

His touch seared through your clothes, translating into rose clouds traitorously dusting the apples of your cheeks, silence stretching for a prolonged period of time where none of you were able to break eye contact, you being much too distracted by the sudden deafening pound in your ears to do anything.

When your brain could resume its normal function, you quipped, “You look better in a hoodie.”

His groan and complaint about your stubbornness made you beam for the first time that day.

***

Twelve straps threatening to pierce through the sleeves of your jacket had the glare returning to the crease of your eyebrows. Jungkook had finally made his mind up to buy three suits. The first in navy blue you refused to admit he looked half-decent in, the second in black and the third in sea green which many other guests who weren’t him couldn’t pull off, according to a cashier who dared to blatantly flirt back.

His shopping trip didn’t stop there, evidenced by three bags decorating each of your arms like they were branches of a Christmas tree. A new winter coat, a flannel, a couple shirts, and two pairs of jeans nestled themselves in soft white tissue and weighed you down. Your own bag was the lightest thing on you, resting on your back so it didn’t get mixed up in his purchases, jostling between your shoulder blades with every movement.

Plastic bags hanging off the crook of his fingers soothed your annoyance just a little. He was nice enough to carry his own groceries but busy enough to let you organise them for him in his refrigerator, tapping a finger to the space between your narrowed eyes for you to loosen up.

You took the liberty to pour your irritation out on the stand-up piano back in your living room, taking full advantage of the forte and crescendo printed against the score sheet stored in the back of your memory, then disregarding them altogether in the next few bars in your refusal to play softly. Only by propping your phone on the leather bench beside you were you able to hear it buzz over the keys, eyes widening at the notification that wasn’t from Jungkook.

It was your other source of income – people who commissioned you to score their published, online comics or animated videos for YouTube videos where they credited you at the end – a job where your college degree came into play. A quick jab of the pad of your thumb to the fingerprint passcode later, you were reading the author’s stamp of approval of the music file you had sent to him two days ago, the first draft he referred to in the current message asking you to finish it quickly because he loved it and wanted to listen to the whole thing.

You abandoned the piano, tucking white jade keys beneath a velvet cloth, in favour of the keyboard in your studio. The same file the author cited on your monitor hiked up against the wall displayed colourful round-edge rectangles while you triple-checked the plug connecting your keyboard to the recording app.

Hours into the process of playing around with your equipment and instruments, hands only leaving both when you made notes to a hardcopy sheet music for piano you’d edit digitally on a later date, a melody one notch louder than the violin strings through your headphones and coming from behind you had you spinning in your swivel chair, just to receive a full frontal of Jungkook’s smoulder where his shoulder braced against the door frame.

“You look adorable while you’re working, snow.”

How he took advantage of you leaving your gate open for him wasn’t surprising anymore. “Exactly how long have you been standing there?”

“Five minutes,” the photographer crossed the distance between you in three long strides, but your gaze trailed to the bay window where sunset painted the sky in streaks of gold, realisation hitting you of how late it had become.

A ceramic turtle paperweight almost toppled over in your frantic scramble for his notebook lying on a file of old score sheets. Scribbled in neat handwriting on his to-do list was Complete video of photo collage for a young girl’s birthday, whose parents had kindly requested of him through a phone call you received.

“You’re done with work?”

He was a blur of black in plopping down onto the cream love seat, leaning against the L-shaped corner of the desk. “Yup, are you?”

“Almost.”

The notebook was discarded back on the wooden surface to unplug your headphones and switch to using two speakers resting under the monitor when you saw his curious eyes wandering to the play button.

You merely gestured to the mouse in silent agreement, wheels of the chair moving you aside so he’d have space to sit in front of the screens. It was the first time you could actually see how someone reacted to the music and nothing else besides it, rather than just give you feedback in the body of an email, and it had butterflies flitting around inside the confines of your stomach.

A worse reaction came three minutes and forty-five seconds later, which was the entire duration of the song, your pencil clattering to the pieces of paper as a sudden weight dropped itself onto your shoulder.

“It’s amazing,” he grinned, fluffy locks tickling the exposed skin of your neck and shell of your ear you failed miserably to ignore, “you’re amazing.”

You managed a short huff, “Compliments won’t make me cook your favourite.”

“I mean it,” Jungkook punctuated each word more firmly. “You’re talented. Always have been.”

You barely dared to move. Eyes flickered around the room like candlelight to find something interesting to watch but they fell on his hand, noticing how it lay limply in his lap, fighting the sudden urge to slot your fingers through the gaps in his digits to see whether they’d fit by gripping the edge of your table till white formed around your knuckles.

Then, quietly, “I still want curry, though… can you cook curry?”

The usual annoyance in your sigh was gone thanks to those butterflies perching on the edge of your heart, “Okay. For you, Jeon.”

He lifted his head with a smile you couldn’t see, “Snow?”

Three inches separated your faces when you turned to him, shutting you up for a second. You were so close, his charm took effect in the way you could almost count each of his midnight lashes the edges of his dark bangs fluttered against, the adorable slope of his button nose leading to his petal lips that you would kill yourself to admit appeared tantalising.

“Y-yeah?”

“You know you’re my plus one for the gala, right?”

That, you didn’t, but it sent a shockwave through your vital organ for the butterflies to jolt away. “You… could have told me that sooner.”

Jungkook had the audacity to shorten the gap by an inch for you to see stars glittering in his chocolate irises, “Why?”

“I need a dress.”

Crystal chandeliers, glass flutes of champagne and small portions of fine dining on china platters flashed through your brain as fast as camera shutters clicking at the remembrance of the five-star hotel’s name. Nothing in your wardrobe was even close to their standard of formal attire.

“Alright, we’ll go back to Jewel tomorrow,” his smile was a little too easygoing compared to the slight furrow of your brows.

“I can’t afford that type of dress.”

“Then I’ll buy it for you,” a casual shrug, “no big deal.”

“I can’t let you do that either,” your frown deepened. “Never mind. I probably have an old dress somewhere I can–“

His warm lips chastely pressing themselves to the middle of your forehead came without prior warning. You went silent for a different reason this time, completely, utterly speechless in the wake of his actions, capable of doing nothing except stare at him with your mouth identical to that of a goldfish.

If Jungkook was affected too, it didn’t show in the smile dimpling the sides of his cheeks, “I’m buying it for you. End of discussion,” his large palm ruffled your hair affectionately, trailing down to ghost against your jawline. “Gosh, you drive me crazy sometimes, you know that, snow?”

Only after he exited the room did the person manning the controls in your mind thaw from the frozen state his kiss rendered it in, his words registering within five seconds and it took you half that time to leap out of your seat after him, your indignant yell echoing down the hallway,

“I drive you crazy?”

***

Jungkook pulled your hands away from the price tag you’d snatched up the moment you approached the first gorgeous garment on a rack an attendant led you to, turning your widened eyes from the three digit number to his.

“I already told you I’d pay, didn’t I?” A nonchalant tilt of his head towards the dresses was useless in soothing the nervous thrum of your heart, “Go ahead. Try them on.”

He settled on a white leather couch in the middle of the circular changing room, the effects of the role reversal crashing over you like tidal wave to freeze you in place between the floor-to-ceiling mirror and the door. Three beautiful pieces hung from hooks nailed into the wall on transparent hangers, waiting for you to try on, though the soft, pliable material between your fingertips nearly had you bolting out of the mall in fear of ruining their luxuriousness.

The first you pulled on was a black off-the-shoulder with a pleated skirt, the top half hugging your silhouette not tight enough to suffocate but not loose enough to enjoy parading around in it for a whole evening. Looking at your skeptical expression frowning down at the garment told Jungkook all he needed to know. The second one was white and had thin spaghetti straps pressing themselves into your shoulders, flaring out to an A-line skirt from the waist down, yet your boss ushered you right back into the cubicle on account of getting something that could keep you warm so no additional jacket was necessary.

All doubts gathered from the first two garments erased themselves when the final one settled around your form. Pale blue was calming to the eyes of everyone who you’d come across two weeks from now, lace going over your left shoulder to give the illusion of a strap, the rest of the smooth fabric modestly covered your chest down to your knees. The only part of the material that cinched around your waist flowed down the skirt in the same direction as the lace.

“Um…” you squeaked in the silence, a tad louder than the classical music streaming through overhead speakers, “Jeon?”

Footsteps shuffled on carpeted ground, two gentle knocks against the closed door separating him from the view of you that he probably wouldn’t recognise, “Everything okay, snow?”

Fabric pinched between your thumb and index fingers reminded you that this wasn’t a dream. “I think this is it… yeah. This dress will do.”

His chuckle was sweeter than the B major key still playing above your heads, “Are you gonna show me?”

Panic had you whipping around, one hand flying to the handle to double check the lock, the other grasping the hem to pull it up and off of you, “Nope. It’s a surprise.”

“But that’s not fair, snow,” being temporarily blinded by the blue coating your vision in tugging the dress over your head didn’t stop your mind from seeing the pout in his whine, “I let you see me in a suit.”

“Too bad,” your giggle resonated with the clang of hangers together as you hid the garment between the first two you tried on. “Be patient.”

You sped past him the moment the lock clicked open and granted you access to the outside world, heading to the attendant who had helped you out earlier where she waited by the counter. Long strides quickened your pounding heart – you wouldn’t be surprised should Jungkook manage to catch a glimpse of the blue fabric she was carefully tucking into a black and white shopping bag.

“I should at least know what I’m paying for,” his quipped, eyeing the black satin straps gripped in the curve of your left palm and then the playful smile pulling at your lips, making one dimple into his own cheeks, “but okay.”

“Thank you,” you meant it with all the sincerity you could muster, the second part as well, “you can take the amount of my pay check if you want.”

“What? No way.”

“I’m not sure how else I can repay you, Jeon.”

Fingers softly grasped the edge of your chin to tilt your head up where you were granted a full view of the constellations in his irises, “First, call me Jungkook.”

You hoped your mute nod would suffice.

“Second,” he let go but intwined his digits in the spaces between your free hand to lead you both to the exit, “you can cook curry tonight, after the shoot.”

The tingling spreading up your arm affected your brain’s regular function, though it pulled up the schedule you were filling in that morning for him at your usual desk that he had a wedding shoot in the late afternoon in time for you to mumble, “Sure, okay.”

***

A combination of overhead and umbrella lights reflecting off the chandelier strung above your head cast silver flecks onto your bare arms where you bent to adjust the height of the tripod legs. What shadowed them caught your attention midway through unscrewing the tight leg locks, gaze trailing up midnight blue chiffon where it flowed from the bride’s waist like a waterfall up to her gloved hand that was sending you a small wave.

“Hi, sorry,” her name surfaced in three seconds for you to match it to her face, Jiyeon, “I saw you come in with Jungkook and I was wondering; are you two a couple?”

Scorching heat coating your face a rosy red appeared to contradict the next words spoken in a rush to amend the misunderstanding, “Oh, no, we’re not. He– he’s my boss.”

“Ah,” Jiyeon giggled delicately, pearl pink lips hidden behind her white satin-covered palm, “I see. Apologies, Joon didn’t mention anything about him having an assistant so I thought, well…”

You shook your head, “It’s okay.”

Her heels clicked against the marble floor en route to a sofa set up in front of a white wall, though she looked back at you, a gleam in her eyes made verbal in expressing an afterthought, “You two look cute together, though.”

For once, you were grateful for the distance separating you from Jungkook, leaning against a corner of the studio with his bag clutched in knuckles whitened due to your harsh grip. This wasn’t the first wrong assumption you’d experience, definitely one of the bolder ones where the models asked about your relationship status outright, but compared to the whispers of the makeup artists in the last appointment her comment had your head spinning.

Couple, dare you say it aloud yourself, had numbness returning to where Jungkook sponged his lips to your forehead the night prior. An impulse decision on his part that kept jolting you awake just before dreams could overtake your subconscious. You didn’t know what it meant, too indignant because of his final statement to question his intention behind it, not to mention the normal bickering you went back to after it happened.

A sudden possibility crossed your mind, instantly spinning the room and adding a slight stumble in your step over one of the stray wires from an extension cord on set when he called for you, ignoring his gaze searing through your skin as you hoisted the tripod away from his spot.

There was no way he liked you. You blamed the ridiculous thought on the theme of the photoshoot getting to your head.

Jiyeon’s groom, Kim Namjoon, was the next to approach you when you retreated back into the corner to tick Indoor studio off the top spot of the to-do list, your eyes scanning Beach as the next location before his polished shoes came into view.

“You must be _____,” He stuck out a hand, flashing adorable dimples straight at you, “I’m Namjoon.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled, “and congratulations on your wedding.”

“Thank you. Just curious, you’re really Kookie’s neighbour?”

“Yup,” a chuckle made its way past your lips, “crazy coincidence, huh?”

There was a teasing sparkle in his eyes, identical to his fiancée’s in her last comment, “Does he treat you well?”

You hummed in pretend thought, though you stuck to the truth, “If you consider going shopping with him, cooking for him everyday and managing his schedule as him treating me well, then yes.”

Loud and unabashed laughter startled you slightly, “You sound more like his wife than his assistant.”

Time was cruel in not giving you enough seconds to find a suitable response to the second romantic reference of the day, as well as not telling you that the guy in question would wrap his hand around your waist.

“Don’t worry, hyung, I’m working on that,” Jungkook shot you an equally unabashed wink, reaching out to shove his friend’s shoulder. “Not everyone decides to tie the knot as fast as you. Anyway, we better get to the beach.” A quick tilt of his head to the first hues of orange that had begun to streak through the azure sky, “Don’t want to miss golden hour.”

Said golden hour was a term photographers used to describe the sunrise and sunset, one of the perfect times during the day to capture aesthetic shots behind the click of his camera shutter. It was a silent fifteen minute drive where you perched next to him, piano keys from a song you knew to be Clair de Lune the only thing that settled comfortably in the air around you both, though you knew your boss was never one to listen to this type of music lest he was subjected to it by hearing you play from across the hall.

Your fingers itched for your stand-up instrument, but you clamped them down on a tightened grip on the bag you hugged to your chest. Noticing one of his hands resting unoccupied beneath the steering wheel left deep crescent moons from your short nails on the black straps.

Wind picked loose flyaways up where you’d gathered your hair into a ponytail upon opening the car door, and you could almost taste the saltiness of the water spraying upwards where it crashed against rocks near a harbour to the far end of the beach. Overwhelmingly bright sunshine had you facing sideways to switch your view from the magnificent blend of gold and blue to Jungkook, crouching carefully on the sand with his camera angled towards the couple, directing them in different positions with compliments you could hear over the gentle lap of waves against the shoreline.

Asking Namjoon to hold Jiyeon by the waist, then brush his hands over her cheeks, pretend to dance on the shifting sands, then dip her but nearly topple over entirely did nothing to steal your attention away from him. It took Jiyeon tapping your shoulder, asking you to help hold her bouquet of assorted flowers, that made you realise you were staring at the way light made the outline of Jungkook’s figure glow for more than five minutes.

You quickly found a distraction in white petals of lilies curving beside periwinkles and daisies. Pink and white seemed to be the theme for their ceremony even if the pictures they took had the bride dressed in blue. The soft texture and sweet smell messed with your imagination, crafting a scene in your mind in which a boy you liked in the future would present you with a different bouquet, holding it out to the shy smile that would adorn your lips.

But the fake bunch of flowers soon changed into a tiny white vase of orchids identical to the ones growing on your desk.

You blinked in time with a familiar camera shutter going off much louder in your right ear, bringing you back to reality, but seeing Jungkook’s pointing it at you had you second-guessing.

“What are you doing?”

He grinned, cheeky bunny teeth and all, “What does it look like?”

“Wrong subject, Jeon.”

The white light of the small, digital screen added an extra star to his pupils, seasoned thumbs fiddling with the buttons to present you with the one snapshot he wasn’t paid to take, “Can’t help it. You look too pretty.”

You willed yourself not to bite your lip or break eye contact, or worse, admit that it was a nice photo despite being unplanned.

“Does that mean I have to pay you if I want it?”

It was his turn to hum thoughtfully, leaning down so your faces were nearly as close as they were that night. “Just this one? How about the others?”

“There are others?!“

“I’m a photographer. What did you expect?”

His fingers brushing lightly against the shell of your ear to tuck a stray lock away sent shocks through your skin, “You’re my favourite thing to photograph, snow. I thought you knew that by now.”

Any sort of response died in the back of your throat when he turned tail to jog back to Namjoon and Jiyeon, sand kicking up in the wake of where he had been but you couldn’t find it in you to be annoyed.

Not when he took your heart with him.

***

Soft, golden lighting from the sconces in the corridor provided some clarity for your blurry vision to make out the outline of the keyhole, jamming the key in after three failed attempts. The sound of metal clicking was somehow louder that the muffled patter of rain against the building, loud enough to have the door behind you slamming open to see Jungkook, hoodie ridden up and revealing a lick of skin where his hand combed halfway through mussed dark locks of hair.

“Snow?”

Rubbing your eyes spread a dizzying array of colour behind closed lids. “Hey,” you brought your hand up for a wave, though a small yawn had the back of your wrist covering your mouth instead.

He made his way over in four strides, worry replacing the usual stars glinting in doe eyes, “You’re back late.”

A client who wanted his soundtrack to be finalised had called you in for a personalised visit in the early afternoon, unlike the usual customers who stated their comments in a bulleted point list in an email. Jungkook had understood that you were going to be gone for a couple of hours once you were done answering a few phone calls for him, half of them to arrange future shoots, the other half to confirm those you already jotted down in the calendar.

The laptop, keyboard and MIDI device tucked carefully away in your backpack weighed heavier courtesy of the rain you had been caught in on the way home. You were too tired to be irritated at the memory of said client who had fiddled around with nearly every button, more out of insatiable curiosity than the desire to find the right sound for his comic strip. You were exhausted at yourself too, for giving into replaying the main melody of the song on the keyboard each time he discovered a new sound, just to endure him saying nope, not it, next two bars into the score.

His resulting indecision had layers of additional sound you hadn’t planned to add into the music at random, though appropriate, points in time. The multicoloured rectangles on your editing software blurred together to give you a headache that didn’t leave, instead manifested further in a dull ache in your fingers from over-exertion and the chill of the storm battering against your glass windows.

A lock of your hair, slicked down by droplets of rain, was plucked off your shoulder, gripped by the pad of his thumb and index, “Have you had dinner?”

You were, honestly, too worried about the client’s greasy fingers pressing down on your precious equipment too hard to remember to eat, so you shook your head. Jungkook sighed in tandem with guiding you through the door, hand not leaving your shoulders until you passed the threshold of your bathroom and he aided you in slipping your bag off.

“Go take a shower,” it was a gentle request from concern you could now hear in his voice, “I’ll see if I can find something to eat.”

Twenty minutes later, when you had scrubbed out the rainwater from your hair and soreness from your muscles, you stepped out into your hallway, lavender and vanilla scent of your soaps overwhelmed by that of something delicious wafting from the other end.

You found Jungkook walking to the dining table, a bowl of curry from a day ago when you cooked it for dinner and another of rice placed gently beside a pair of chopsticks and a spoon. He turned to grab something else but paused in looking at your pyjama-clad self, your grey shirt advertising a black cat sticking out of a small pocket and white shorts peeking out beneath.

“I hope you don’t mind, I, uh…” a quick gesture to the food, “I heated the curry from yesterday, but if you want something else, I can order in–“

“It’s great, Jungkook,” you slid into the chair, offering him a small smile, just the tiniest quirk of your lips upward, “thank you.”

He joined you after a quick trip to your kitchen island, returning with a mug of hot chocolate brewed by hand and not the coffee machine you used for making his drinks. At this hour, food didn’t re-energise you, just warmed you up on the inside to lull you to sleep later. Yet the tiredness clinging to your half-open eyelids didn’t help in pretending that he hadn’t taken his gaze off of you.

Maybe breaking the silence would help in distracting you from that little detail. “Did you eat?”

“You came back late and you’re still worrying about me? I’m touched, snow,” he chuckled, tugging on your shower-fresh hair. “How was your meeting?”

Your shoulders slumped, recalling how you needed to clean each crevice of your equipment still sitting in your bag. “He was being… difficult. Not because he’s a perfectionist; he kept changing the sound to what he thought was nice,” you sighed. “It’s completely different from the original now, and he wants it by tomorrow night.”

“I mean,” fingers gently rubbed your eyes that had you seeing stars, “I know I shouldn’t complain because it’s work, but-”

An equally gentle tug on your wrists had you seeing those same celestial bodies in his irises, paired with an equally brilliant smile though it was meant to comfort you more than stun you into silence.

“That’s not true. You’re allowed to complain. You were there to see me ranting sometimes too, remember?”

“I guess,” you couldn’t help the pout that pulled at your bottom lip, “but it feels… wrong. I love music. I’m supposed to love my work, too.”

“I’m sure you still do,” one of his hands left yours to cup your cheek, running his thumb over the pink blush that began to spread under his touch. “It’s okay to feel stressed at times, especially when you deal with difficult people. Sure, they make your job harder, but that doesn’t mean you love it any less. Just don’t keep it to yourself.”

The downpour had quietened down to a drizzle, soothing ambient music in comfortable silence that had settled around you both that had your tired stature leaning into his warm touch, absently wondering when it had begun to feel like home.

“You shouldn’t say stuff like that…” your own voice was soft, mind hazy, “makes it hard to find you annoying.”

Jungkook laughing merely added to the ongoing music, “You think I’m annoying, snow?”

“Not…” your eyes drifted close for longer than a second, “…not right now.”

Feeling yourself being lifted off the chair and braced against the broad planes of his chest, his arms supporting you so you didn’t fall, garnered zero protest from you as you succumbed to the sleep taking over your consciousness, not before the warmth of a blanket tucked to your chin registered in your brain.

A dip in the mattress beside you preceded his hand caressing your face again, “What do you think of me then?”

Right in that moment, the answer was simple, feelings you’d thought about all day escaping your lips in a sincere whisper meant for him, and him alone.

“You drive me crazy, Jeon.”

***

Piano keys in C major streaming through the car speakers had you perking your head up where you were flipping through the schedule for that day, soft pattering of rain in the background of the track causing memories to resurface.

Jungkook’s smirk was directed at you, despite his eyes fixated on the view beyond the windshield, “Recognise this?”

It was a playlist of lofi songs you had mixed together from your high school days, per your friends’ request to make one for them to study or chill to. The earliest ones had been when you were experimenting with new equipment you were now familiar with, should muscle memory prove anything; the ones in the middle were created with inspiration from your surroundings, proven by titles such as Autumn Leaves, Train by the river and Winter Nights; those near the end lasting three minutes or longer after more thorough training from two years in college.

Uploading it to your personal Spotify account granted your friends easy access, though you didn’t know that those who followed were still listening to it in the years that had passed since you’d gone back to it, and certainly hadn’t expected Jungkook of all people to find it. Yet the melody was unmistakable and filling the chilled air around you as you continued to stare at him, unsure of what to think.

A clack of his phone resounded next to the gear shift, screen showing the first of one hundred and fifty songs out in green font while the rest were white and waiting for their turn, “I wish you told me about it sooner. It’s my favourite thing to listen to while I work.”

You fiddled with your fingers, “I forgot I had it.”

Juggling doing covers of songs with friends for their YouTube page as a pianist or drummer, preparing for finals, and creating original compositions for an incredibly talented and hard-to-please lecturer, you’d barely had time to get back to producing your own beats. Back then, you had been more worried about getting sufficient hours of sleep.

“Like I said, snow, you’re talented,” he reached over, patting the top of your head without the usual roughness. “Seriously, how’d I get so lucky…”

You pondered on what he meant by that for the rest of the trip, settling on him appreciating you as his assistant and his friend despite the corner of your heart that stood up to protest otherwise.

The adorable glass bell in the shape of a fish chimed to announce your arrival at Manggae Bakery but Jimin was already at the door to pull it open for you, excited at the sight of the camera slung around his friend’s neck.

“JK!” Said camera thankfully wasn’t squished between their chests in the hug they exchanged. Crinkled eyes turned to you over Jungkook’s shoulder, widening at your small wave. “Hi, _____!”

Jimin all but dragged the two of you over to a table in the middle of the shop, treats on display. Bright colours of the rice flour cakes resting on their stands, particularly the rosettes, were the first to overwhelm you then draw you in by eliciting hunger in your stomach currently filled with the sandwich you had for breakfast. A reminder in the form of a lilac sticky note pasted itself in the forefront of your memory to ask him for one before you left, while a real sticky note in the pages of his schedule told you that the gala was just two days away.

“You can start with these,” Jimin swept his hand in a wide semicircle towards the treats. “I was thinking you could take a pic of all of them first, maybe from different angles. There’s a wall there too–“ he pointed to his left where the tables for customers to sit had been removed, leaving space before a white brick structure with a brown window and tendrils of curving ivy from the top, “–if you want to use for individual shots.”

“Got it, hyung,” he was already fiddling with the plastic buttons beside the screen, the familiar mechanical sound of the lens zooming in reaching your ears.

A couple of red roses adorning the top of a white cake behind the glass counter had caught your eyes, till you saw the gradual approach of bakery owner through its reflection, the same grin you dared to believe was permanently etched on his lips fully directed at you.

“I’m glad you’re here, _____,” over the shutter clicking away, you heard a rustle of paper within Jimin’s pocket that he soon produced to you, save the flourish from earlier. “Do you know the company Namjoon and Yoongi-hyung work at?”

You nodded; it was hard to miss the skyscraper high glass and steel building whenever you drove to town for a shoot.

“They have a job opening for a music producer,” his index tapped the large black words printed on the top of the page. “Details are all here. You can try applying if you want. I’m not sure if you get to- wait, Yoongi-hyung said you will get to collaborate with them if you get it. Pretty cool, right?”

Silence overtook the bakery to allow you time to process this new information as well as allowed the words on the page to look like they would jump off and swallow you whole. You were blind to everything else except the feeling of Jungkook’s gaze searing a hole through your cheek, neurons in your brain screeching to a halt in their tracks the longer you stood there, numb.

You barely registered Jimin snapping his fingers alongside an excited comment of retrieving more of his creations from the back room, your eyes accidentally flickering down to the business email in (thankfully) smaller font at the bottom left of the page even though it froze your vital organ up all the same. A soft call of your name, quiet footsteps, and warm fingers softly touching the underside of your chin to lift your face up was what it took to break you out of your trance.

“Snow,” Jungkook’s voice was as gentle as the twinkle in his chocolate irises, “are you okay?”

“Hm? Oh…” you blinked, “yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He hummed. “Can you help me move that table? I need to start on those individual shots now.”

“Sure, of course.”

You placed the paper deep into the pocket of your jacket, thoughts swept by an imaginary broom to clear them to the back of your mind for future contemplation, or better yet, to be forgotten.

***

The fluttering of paper caught your attention when you shoved your jacket aside. Just looking at those words on the shelf of your closet made a boulder press itself against your ribcage, threatening to crush the air out of your lungs until you hid the gift from Jimin away from your sight in a drawer. Two days had passed since you’d visited the bakery, however, another planned event scheduled precisely half an hour from the present time preoccupied your concerns more than the job opportunity.

A final check in the mirror atop your dressing table confirmed that you had put on the most expensive thing you owned, the blue shimmering beneath your warm bedroom lights. Thin, silver drop earrings sparkled in your ears, another check of your hair assured you that no flyaways were sticking at odd angles outside the intricate bun you wove your locks into, and the snow white asymmetrical peacoat made sure your boss wouldn’t have the chance to even peek at the dress before you got there.

The pound of your heart had you tripping into the short pair of white heels you pulled on for the night. If your feet were going to behave this way, you honestly couldn’t imagine spending three hours or more in those shoes on sleek, polished marble floor, but it was too late to consider changing into another pair upon hearing the door opposite your own click open.

Jungkook, somehow, appeared more handsome now in the black suit he’d chosen than he did in the changing room, or perhaps it was his effect on you that had changed from annoyance to something else entirely. It was the cliche feeling of time standing still between the two of you where you openly stared at each other, your eyes tracing the ethereal glow of his figure to the contours of his face lit by a combination of soft lighting in the hallway and the evening sun.

His fingers slid in the gaps of your left hand as if they were meant to fit perfectly, raising it up to his petal lips to sponged the back of it, “You look beautiful, snow.”

You couldn’t fight the upturn of your mouth, “I’d tell you that you look handsome, but I already did, so…”

“You said I didn’t look half bad.”

“And you don’t,” his playful scoff was in time with you looping an arm around the crook of his elbow, leading the way for him to his car.

Opulent couldn’t begin to describe the inside of the hotel when you arrived. A golden chandelier hung from the ceiling, light reflecting off each crystal onto the sand-coloured walls. White marble tiles beneath you were polished to the point where you could see your reflection. There was a waterfall with the name, Luxe Resort, written in golden cursive font against the black wall, where a few children were peering into.

A coat collection area had you pausing to remove yours, finally revealing the blue dress as you turned to face where Jungkook was waiting for you in front of the grand double doors. The gala was one of those rare occasions where he didn’t need to work – it was merely an extravagant party he was invited to, a night of fun and celebration of someone’s anniversary whom you knew to be the parents of his friend, Seokjin. Although, you doubted his friend would have the same reaction as him at the moment, the starstruck look he had on in the corridor returning to his features.

You tried to play it off with your own quip, “Alright, I admit it, you look dashing. Happy?”

Tingles spread where he slid his arm across your waist, never once taking his eyes off of you, “I’m happier that you’re here with me, gorgeous.”

A teasing smack to his chest didn’t stop his next words, or the heat rising to paint pink clouds onto the apples of your cheeks, “I mean it, snow. You’re absolutely stunning.”

Tables of fine dining lined the sides of the room boasting a chocolate fountain and fancy cocktails and other finger foods you weren’t able to name. Sparkles reflecting off an even bigger chandelier combined with other priceless gems strung on necks or circulating fingers covered by satin gloves were blinding to the eyes. Your brain reeled in thinking that the price of all the designer dresses could pay your tuition statements at least twenty times over, even as you tried to keep your eyes from widening to rival the moon each time you passed a guest with a spiderweb of jewels attached to her neck.

The grip you had on his arm was the sole thing anchoring you to reality. It felt like this place was a whole other realm of its own purely because of the grandiose facade it had, and maybe your vision was starting to get hazy from the splendour as you spotted a whole ice sculpture near the middle of the ballroom. Distracted by the decor, you startled at the call of Jungkook’s name, amusement lining his smile dimpling into his cheeks.

“Jin-hyung!” He exchanged a quick hug with Seokjin who beamed at you in acknowledgement of your presence, already tons better than the other guests who knew were silently judging you over the edges of their champagne flutes.

“JK, _____, glad you could make it. So,” a wide sweeping gesture to the rest of the room you were still trying to get used to, “what do you think? Fancy, no?”

“Very,” you nodded, “your parents really went all out.”

“Well, my dad wanted to make it special,” he turned in the direction of an older couple who, even from that distance, you could tell were looking at each other with unadulterated love. “There’s also going to be a dance later. Not just for them; anyone can join in.”

“Are you dancing?”

“Me? No,” Seokjin chuckled a little at Jungkook’s question, proceeding to eye you and him with a mischievous glint, “but I don’t see why you shouldn’t.”

“Oh, no,” you were firm down to the shake of your head, “I don’t dance.”

Music that suddenly began to stream from the small band you just realised had gathered on stage caused the surprised ah that left Seokjin’s mouth, glancing back at his parents who were making their way to the dance floor, among other people who were intrigued by the music.

“Well, I better go help my brother take some nice pictures of them,” the elder winked at your boss, straightening his blazer. “They won’t turn out as well as yours, but I’ll try. Enjoy the party!”

You were in the middle of wondering how a pair on the dance floor managed to pull off a flawless spin and dip when a hand came into your line of sight. Jungkook’s smoulder was purposeful this time, a butterfly fluttering around your stomach prior to his next request.

“Shall we?”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier?”

“Just one,” his arm and gaze were unwavering, “I promise I won’t step on your feet.”

Your mouth dropped open a little, “Does that mean you were planning to?“

“No. I plan to sweep you off your feet instead. Now,” he peered just that little bit closer, “may I have this dance, snow?”

It was the chance to hold his hand again, you tried to convince yourself, that you found yourself being led to and then around the marble floor. He was gentle in the way he held your hand and waist, guiding you into a twirls, some with the full extension of his arm before he was pulling you back in. You should have known the stars on the horizon making an appearance in his doe eyes would be the only thing that was able to outshine the costume jewelry in the room – you weren’t physically capable of looking anywhere else.

Neither was he, for that matter, both of you openly, willingly, gazing at each other for an indefinite amount of time.

“You’re not half bad at dancing,” Jungkook teased with a pinch to your hip, eliciting a bout of giggles from you rather than the usual irritated frown.

“I said I don’t dance, never said I couldn’t.”

“Good,” he winked, “because we’re gonna do this at our wedding.”

You would have landed another smack on him if your hands weren’t intwined, “Don’t joke about stuff like that.”

A quick twirl, then a tug of his fingers to draw you closer till the distance between your chests was thin enough to fit a piece of paper, “I’m serious, snow.”

“Is that so?”

“As serious as me saying you should send in an application for a producer.”

The room was the one spinning now as you broke eye contact, “Oh.”

He halted in his administrations, jabbing a thumb over to the outdoor balcony. “Do you want to talk outside?”

Leaving the ballroom brought back some semblance of normalcy. Jungkook guided you with a hand pressed to your back to a marble bench wrapped in fairy lights, reminiscent of your own at home, though more romantic since you weren’t alone. He made sure you were looking at him, serious in his tone but gentle in his gaze.

“You know something?” His hands were placed on his lap, inches away where yours lay on the seat. “I always meant it when I said you were talented in music. You’re passionate about it too, more than the job I offered you.”

“I’m a photographer because I love the art of taking pictures, but you,” only then did he intwine your hands, “you love music. And I don’t think what you’re doing now is as fulfilling as it can be. You definitely weren’t planning on being my assistant forever, and quite frankly, I don’t want you to.”

“Then…” you bit your lip, “why did you hire me in the first place?”

His smile had never been more beautiful under the light of the moon, “Because I’m in love with you, snow. I always have been. I’m surprised you haven’t caught on by now, but I guess it’s my fault for taking so long to admit it,” he sighed, genuinely apologetic. “That, and using the whole assistant job thing as an excuse to spend time with you.”

Your heart was about to burst, fingers tightening in his grip to remind you that he was real, and so was all of this.

“Promise me, when we go back home, you’ll write in to them?”

A pinky was held up to you with his free hand, and you held up your own, though you didn’t link it through his yet.

“As long as you promise me something in return.”

“Sure.”

“If I get the job–“

“When you get the job.”

You laughed, “When I get it, will you take me on a date?”

“Of course,” Jungkook wrapped his finger with yours, “but honestly, I already consider all the time we spent together as unofficial dates.”

“That’s just it,” your shoulders slumped, leaning your head on his arm, “I’m not sure if we’ll spend so much time together if I become a producer.”

Lips pressing to the crown of your head had you looking up at him again, “We can still, snow. When we both work from home, or when you have free time, you can come with me to shoots. It’ll be like nothing has changed.”

“I’ll cook for you. You won’t eat anything otherwise.”

“Good,” he leaned his forehead against yours, noses brushing, “I love your food. It’s way better than the steak portions they’re giving out in there.”

Another peal of laughter bubbled past your lips, “Jungkook.”

“Seriously, have you seen them?”

***

You had expected Jungkook to pull you in for a passionate kiss once you stepped through the doorway of your home, but you hadn’t expected to see an album that you recognised on the dining table, gleaming within its plastic cover and waiting to be unwrapped.

“How was your day?” He spoke between sponging more sweet affections down your jawline, “Did you get the new flowers I sent you? I specifically asked the delivery guy to bring it up to your studio–“

Your lips on his cut him off for you to giggle, “Yes I did, Kookie. They’re lovely, now–“ an index finger was shoved in the direction of the table, “–what is that?”

Laughter filled the air around you, leading you by your entwined hands over to it, “Oh, I think you know.”

The protective plastic covering was ripped away by muscular arms in three seconds, tossed aside on the wooden surface before he was unveiling the CD you knew Namjoon poured his heart into, removing the little book inside with eager fingers turning to a specific page.

“How can you expect me not to buy an album that my girlfriend-“ a step to close the distance and peck your forehead, “-has producing credits on?”

“Aw, I’m sure Namjoon would appreciate you supporting him.”

“Snow–”

You slung your arms around him in half the time it took to tear the album open, “Just kidding, babe. Thank you.”

In the months that had gone by since you were hired by the panel of interviewers for the job, you had gone beyond making music for comic strips or small production videos (though Jungkook would disagree in the making of the small collage for your hundred-day anniversary), and you had never been happier. There was a plus side for the both of you; the money he had previously been wiring to your account was now used to treating you both to dates, or cooking him homemade meals that he insisted were better than the food at the gala that had brought you together officially.

“Kookie,” you rested your chin on his chest to stare up into his chocolate doe eyes, “do you like his music?”

“Of course I do, but,” he kissed the pout of your bottom lip, “I love you more.”

Your smile shone as bright as the stars glittering in his eyes, “I love you too, you dork.”

four seven eight

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 12k

glimpse: you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you.

alternatively, jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.

[ part one + intermission + part two + intermission 02 + part three ]

[ major angst (pls take a break when necessary!!), no cheating happens here btw, some rlly cute moments i swear, jk’s a cold lover, emotional constipation + breakdowns, allusions to anxiety + anxiety attacks, self-deprication n loathing, miscommunication, based on the moral dilemma of whether or not it’s okay to be friends with ur ex, eventual redemption in the next parts :) ]

notes: it’s finally out and i can’t wait for you to read!! this piece is my baby, the rightful successor to heartburn <3 i’m aware that the last time i wrote a mini-series it was rlly heavy, but please trust me when i say that this would be lighter <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :) | series masterlist

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Hiraeth (M)

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Soulmate/College Au, Light Angst, Fluff, Soft Smut

Words: 18K

Description: We are always yearning for someone, even if that person may not exist in this tangible realm. 

A/N: To whomever stumbles upon this piece of my heart, I sincerely hope you enjoy your stay :)

Warnings: Mildly Explicit Sexual Content

Soulmates.

Apparently everyone had one.

And everyone would have the name of their destined other half inscribed on the tender skin of their inner wrist when they turned 18.

Everyone…minus you.

It had remained the sole most exciting thing about turning 18 ever since you learned about the exhilarating phenomenon, something you had been looking forward to more than the pile of presents you knew you would be receiving on said day, more than the “surprise party” you knew your friends would be throwing you, and more than being the center of attention for a solid few hours like all the other birthdays you’ve experienced in your life so far.

It was supposed to be one of the few things in life that are guaranteed, analogous to a type of promise which does not revolve around uncertainty or a surefire plan that is carried out without fail, an occurrence not influenced by outside forces and has been written in the stars since the beginning of time. Its assurance is assumed, which is also why its ultimate letdown was able to spur so much damage.

Because on your 18th birthday, in place of the sparkling letters of the name you could practically feel on your tongue, painted in the vibrant colors of your most beautiful dreams, you are instead left with a black horizontal line-  dull, ominous, and utterly frightening.

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Such a heartwarming and soulful fic. It reminds me of some memories I do not even have. Captivating writing. The author did an amazing job at describing the emotions of the characters. The warm summer vibe furthermore makes the fic remarkable 😍😍

An Endless Summer — jjk

S Y N O P S I S | Jeon Jungkook decided to road trip across Europe—with the money his father had sent him overseas with so he could fix his act. Then maybe, might have picked up a lost and penniless girl at a gas station in London and proceeded to road trip with her across Europe cause why the heck not?

P A I R I N G | Jeon Jungkook, reader (y/n)

G E N R E | fluff, some angst (minuscule), romance, inexplicit ~smut~ (smut nonetheless, you’ve been warned) — road trip au ; NC-17

W A R N I N G S | mild cursing

W O R D C O U N T | 19.7k (aka, the longest one ever)

Seoul, South Korea

Jeon Jungkook would’ve played the perfect part for a drama. He would’ve set a flawless example of a rich, young heir gone wild if it hadn’t been such a negative title.

Jungkook was the type of man to live life by the second and enjoy every last drop of it. There were no such things as planning ahead for him, not even a week ahead. He partied till he saw the sun barely peeking over the horizon, drank as much alcohol his system could handle, at least before blacking out, and threw money around like it was pocket change. Hell, a couple hundred thousand won to him was pocket change.

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Ahh!!! it's finally here. The 1st chapter of this series. And it was really sooo good. Full of tensions and untold stories. So excited for the coming chapters. Eagerly waiting for the story to unfold and where it will lead me 💜💜💜

Burning Love (01)

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, smut (?)

Au: Exes au, CEO Jungkook.

Warning: mentions of alcohol, curse words.

Rating: 18+

Summary : Jungkook was your first love, your high school sweetheart, whom you continued to date throughout college, well maybe not throughout. Three months before finishing college, he decides it wasn't worth it. Six years later, you're far away from South Korea, working for a small company. What are the chances that the big multinational company that ends up buying the company you're currently working for is owned by none other than Jeon Jungkook?

Word Count: 14K

A/N: It took me so long to get this done. It was done by the middle of September but my phone crashed and I had no backups, so yeah had to rewrite it. So, please let me know if you like it because it took a lot out of me. Also, there might be some tiny mistakes because I edited it at like 2:00 in the morning, so don't mind it.

Prologue

THEN

"Is the seat taken?"

Looking up from the book you were reading, you find a boy you have never seen before, standing awkwardly. His hair covers almost half of his face and big doe eyes stare at you with traces of nervousness in them.

He must be new.

"No, it is not." You reply, offering a polite smile.

"Do you mind if I take the seat?" He asks scratching the back of his neck.

"No, not at all." You thought it was obvious.

"Thank you." Giving you a small smile, he occupies the seat next to you.

You watch him as he settles down and opens one of the books he was carrying and starts to flip through the pages. However, the constant tapping of his foot against the floor, lets you know that he isn't able to concentrate on the words in front of him.

"Are you new here?" You ask to hopefully begin a conversation.

He looks up from his book startled as if he was not expecting you to speak.

"Yes. This is my first day." He gives you a shy smile.

"That's great. If you need any help, let me know."

"Thank you." Giving you a small awkward nod, he returns to his book.

Seeing that your attempt to start a conversation has failed terribly, you decide to do the same.

You'd find new students in your class almost throughout the year, so that was not unusual to you, neither was his shy behaviour.

On your first day, you were shy and timid too.

You remember feeling extremely nervous when you first stepped in, not to mention how you were new to the city as well but from what you have seen, your school's extravagant appearance had that effect on almost everyone.

When you walked through the gate for the first time, you felt intimidated by the huge building in front of you. It looked like a building that could easily be used for serving royalties, with high ceilings, marble floors, classrooms bigger than you have ever seen, a huge open space, beautiful gardens and a dreamy lake that although was prohibited for the students, definitely completed the picture.

Your school is an international private school and is just as costly as it looks. With your father being a top tier businessman, money hasn't ever been a problem.

The students, unlike what people would expect, were nice. Yes, there are obviously a few who wouldn't fit in the description, but every school had those kids.

It took some time for you to come out of your shell and get adjusted to the environment and the people, he'll–

Wait, you never asked for his name.

"Hey, I'm Y/N." You say, turning towards him, perhaps a little too cheerfully.

Hearing your voice, the poor kid gets startled yet again and lets out a small squeak.

Okay, maybe you were not that nervous.

"Sorry." Red hue coats his cheeks.

Was he apologising for squeaking?

"It's okay." You wanted to chuckle at his cuteness but somehow resisted the urge. You knew it would only make him feel more embarrassed and you did not want that.

"I'm Y/N, by the way." You introduce yourself again, this time in a much softer tone.

He blinks at you.

"Oh, right, I never introduced myself." He chuckles lowly at the realisation.

"I'm Jeon Jungkook."

NOW

You've been glaring at the computer screen for around fifteen minutes now.

The reason you're glaring? Because you're tired as fuck and all you want to do is sleep like a baby. Although, if glaring is a tactic to not fall asleep or if you're glaring out of frustration, you don't know.

Your day so far has been filled with meetings, submitting reports, updating files and whatnot. Along with that, you have also been in and out of your office at every half an hour intervals to check if the server, which has been glitching since morning, has been fixed yet.

While yes, the last week of every month was the same, minus the glitching server, of course, today your body has apparently decided to resist any sort of work, to its absolute best.

Or maybe it's because you have not provided your body with enough carbs to deal with the heavy workload.

You've not provided any.

The grumbling noise from your stomach, very kindly, reminds you.

You mentally curse yourself. You should have taken Tae's advice and had some food on the way.

Seeing the cursor blink, you let out a sigh. It's as if it's mocking you as to how you've not typed a single code so far and with how unresponsive your brain is, you wonder if you'll get anything productive done today.

But you need to be productive. You release another sigh, before coming to a conclusion.

You have to eat something.

You're about to get up when a knock on the door stops you from doing so.

"Come in." You say, straightening your posture to look professional.

"Good morning, boss." Mina greets, making her way into your office.

You relax instantly but not before rolling your eyes. Dramatic as always.

Mina is your friend turned assistant. You met her when you were a newbie in the company and you both instantly clicked. At the time, she used to work as the assistant of the ex-head of the software department. When you were abruptly promoted as the head, she became your assistant.

"Good morning." You greet back.

"My morning has been good indeed. I mean, did you see Namjoon today? He came to work wearing a black silk shirt. A. Thin. Black. Silk. Shirt. Who does that? You can literally feel his muscles through that shirt." She rambles excitedly, taking the seat in front of you.

"You kidding me?" You try to match her tone.

"Hey, don't mock me." She deadpans, her enthusiastic look turning into a glare in a matter of milliseconds. "You'll understand what I'm saying when you see him. It's a serious issue, everyone, literally everyone has been ogling him and I swear he has a little smirk on his face that lets you know he's enjoying it."

You chuckle and nod in mock understanding. "Well if you had to come to my office to ramble about how hot Namjoon looks, I don't doubt its seriousness."

Mina's eyes widen. "Oh shit, I forgot. See, this is what I'm talking about, he's distracting people from work."

"By people, you mean you?"

"Shut up." She glares, yet again. "The reason why I had to come to your office is because apparently, you have not replied to an important mail by the office authorities."

You furrow your brows at that. In the midst of everything, you've forgotten to check your emails. "Right, I haven't checked my mails today. Just wait a minute, I'll check."

Logging into your mail id, you find a bunch of new unopened mails. Selecting the one from your office id, you start reading it.

From: officeml@fcs.co

To: ynsoftdept@fcs.co

Subject: URGENT MAIL.

Miss Y/L/N,

This mail is to inform you that Felix Consultancy Services has been sold to Jeon Jungkook and is now a part of Jeon Corporations. According to the contract signed, all the employees currently working for FCS will start working for Jeon Corporations from 1st September 2021.

We know this can come off as sudden and unexpected but we assure you that the contracts signed, have been made while keeping the best interests of the employees in our mind. We thought it would be best to let you know now, to avoid you taking any unnecessary stress.

We would request you to hold a meeting to let everyone in your department know of the matter.

We are extremely grateful for your dedicated performance and the hard work you've done for us. We wish you all the best and hope you take each step in your career with the same spirit.

Thanking you,

FCS Team.

Excuse me?

Is this a joke? It has to be. There's no way this is happening.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

There's that name again. Jeon Jungkook.

"Are you okay?" Mina's voice, heavily laced with concern, stops your thoughts from accelerating any further.

"Our company has been sold." You whisper.

"What?!" The disbelief is evident in her voice.

"Read this." You motion her towards the computer screen.

She gets up from her chair, walks towards where you're sitting and bends down to level with your computer screen, all the while with a frown on her face.

While she reads, you wonder if by any chance your office id has been hacked and someone decided to pull this cruel prank. But if that were the case, Mina wouldn't be here. She was technically asked by the office authorities to have you check your emails.

Realising that this isn't a prank, you deflate in your seat.

What are the chances really? You left Korea, left everything you knew, behind, just so that you could be away from that place and especially from him because the pain was unbearable.

Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine he'd buy the company you're working for.

"I think it's sudden, but maybe we should have seen this coming." Mina breaks the silence after some time, a frown still etched on her face.

"What do you mean? How were we supposed to see this coming?" You can't help the way your voice sounds. It's as if someone has said the most ridiculous thing.

She thankfully takes no offence to that and takes a deep breath, a thoughtful look appearing on her face. "I mean see, Mr. Denver has been handling the company for so long. He would want to retire at some point and from what I know none of his family members are interested in the business world."

"But isn't it too sudden? He never even gave us hints that he wants or plans to sell the company and they should have informed us a little earlier. They inform us just a week before we are supposed to start working for another company and that too over mail." You mumble, unable to hide your frustration.

She hums in agreement. "I agree with that but you know how Mr. Denver is. He doesn't ever want us taking unnecessary stress and he loves the company with his entire heart, I believe he must have handed the company in safe hands and about the mail thing, I think I heard he's out of the country, otherwise, he'd have held a proper meeting."

You release a frustrated sigh.

Mina is right about Mr. Denver, the CEO or ex-CEO of your company. He treats his employees as if they are a part of his family, always looking after their well being, and supporting them whenever they need. It's one of the many reasons working for FCS, never felt like just another 9-5 job.

Unsurprisingly, knowing that your company has your back lets people feel a certain level of freedom and ease in the work environment instead of feeling like a puppet. It allows them to make their own decisions and use their creativity to manage and complete a task.

When you became the head of the department, you made mistakes, oh you definitely did. After all, it was so abrupt and you were so unprepared but Mr. Denver always had your back. You remember the first time you made a mistake, you felt like you had done the biggest blunder ever possible in mankind and were so scared of the consequences. Unlike whatever scenario you and imagined in your mind, he gave you a warm, reassuring smile after learning as to what has happened. You remember feeling so light after hearing his comforting words.

Truth be told, you'd still be a mess had it not been for him and Mina. You'd be forever grateful for the way these two supported you in each step.

Mr. Denver is just as perspicacious and experienced as he is kind. His decisions are always so insightful, you've always admired his method of working and how calm he remains even in the most stressful of situations. You've also always trusted his decisions blindly. This time though, you can't help but feel bitter. Was it necessary to sell the company and that too, to Jungkook of all people?

"I don't know, Mina. Fuck, I don't even know much about Jeon Corporations and I'm supposed to start working for them? Even saying that out loud sounds so stupid."

"Well, I don't know too much about them either, just that they are a huge company and that the CEO is quite popular." And then, her eyes sparkle in a way that lets you know she has been struck by one of her brilliant ideas. "You know who knows about them and can help us? The internet!" She exclaims and before you can interject she's already typing 'Jeon Corporations' on the search bar.

Although, it isn't exactly his name that's being searched it is something that is directly related to him and that is enough to make you feel queasy. You have never searched him or anything even merely related to him on the net. The younger version of you never thought she'd have to, the older version of you didn't want to.

"Here we go," Mina mumbles more to herself, as she starts reading the results.

You contemplate if you want to look at the screen. You weren't lying when you said, you don't know anything about the company. You did at some point but you are pretty sure that it's irrelevant and of no use, after all, six years is a long time.

While you're not interested in him, any information about Jeon Corporations might be helpful. So, you make a quick decision and glance up at the screen.

First, comes some basic information about how Jungkook's father was the founder of the company and how Jungkook was handed over the ownership a few years ago when his father retired.

This you knew already.

Second, some information about how big the company has become and how it is now one of the biggest multinational companies out there.

That's new to you.

Then, came the top articles.

Jeon Jungkook steps out holding hands with Tina Fred.

Jeon Jungkook, owner and CEO of Jeon Corporations, was spotted making out with Jennifer Gomes.

Is Sarah Jones, Jeon Jungkook's new target?

Two days after filing for divorce, Olivia Fren is spotted having the time of her life on a yacht with Jeon Jungkook.

Model Sierra Alex and Jeon Jungkook are reportedly dating.

A look into the affairs of playboy billionaire Jeon Jungkook.

"Looks like he has got quite the reputation." Mina snorts.

"Maybe it's typical media." You say with a shrug, feeling the inside of your mouth turn sour.

"Pictures don't lie, babe." She replies, still searching for some information with squinted eyes.

"Who cares?" Reaching out for the glass on your table, you gulp down the water in one go.

You wish it was alcohol. At least, that way, your brain wouldn't be running miles a minute.

"I didn't even search his name, yet, mostly it's all about his affairs." She whines after some time, seemingly frustrated.

Before she can type out a more specific search, you interrupt her. "You know what? We can look for information later. For the time being, just forward this mail to everyone in the department." There's no way you'll be able to break this news to a room full of people without looking as panicked and stressed as you feel.

Hearing your words, Mina frowns in surprise and worry. She knows you enough to know that you're the kind of person to hold a meeting to discuss the issue because that's what's the right thing to do. Especially, when you strongly dislike being informed about such an important and serious issue over mail. For you to ask her to forward the mail, there must be something wrong.

"Are you okay?" She asks, keeping her voice soft.

"I'm okay, don't worry about it. Just a little shaken up, that's all." You lie, waving your hand dismissing her concern.

She knows that, that isn't the entire truth. Her frown remains in place but she lets it go, knowing whatever it is you'll open up when you feel comfortable. "Don't worry too much about it, it's of no use anyway. Also, if you need anything just let me know, okay?"

You give her a nod, grateful for her words.

"Well then, I'll get going. Just forward me the mail." She collects a few files from your desk before heading out. "Bye, bitch."

Usually, you'd chuckle at that. Calling you boss while entering and bitch before exiting, is peak Mina behaviour. This time though, you're too anxious to find any amusement.

With the door clicking shut, you're met with silence, unlike what's going inside your head.

There are thousands of thoughts running inside your head, the headline of each being the same; Jungkook is back in your life.

To put it lightly, Jungkook is a bitter topic for you. You wish you could say that it's bittersweet but then, that would be a lie because it isn't, it's just bitter. He's that one person for you, who has hurt you so brutally that even though it has been years, one mention of his name is enough to serve as a reminder of the pain he has caused.

It's tricky though, it's not like he is that much of an issue but somehow he still is. You are happy and content in your life and Jungkook is almost forgotten. Almost. He is like one of those wounds you don't even realise is there until someone mentions it or pokes it. It's also the type of wound that heals slowly, very slowly.

To summarise, Jungkook is someone you rarely spend time thinking about but when you do, it's against your will and quite unpleasant for you.

The last time Jungkook occupied your mind would be a month ago when you saw him at the party. It just caught you so off guard. Your subconscious screamed at you to run, perhaps she still believes he'll somehow ruin your happiness out of nowhere, just like he did all those years ago.

By the time you reached home that night, you calmed down when you realised how natural and normal it was for him to attend a business party. Just because you haven't encountered him before, doesn't mean he never attends them. Right? You also, assured yourself, saying, you will just have to be a little cautious from the next time.

But more than anything, you were grateful he didn't spot you.

Now though, all of those thoughts sound so ridiculous to you. You bet, in any other situation you'd even find the situation funny but you don't. After all, he's soon going to be your boss.

Is there no way to get out of this?

Mina's words about how worrying is of no use, ring in your head, answering your question.

That doesn't help the fact that you are desperate to stay far away from Jungkook.

With leaving South Korea, you let yourself believe that that's the end of everything between you and Jungkook, that he would always be a chapter in your past that would never be reopened.

How are you supposed to deal with this?

Amid the panicky thoughts, there's a small voice inside your head that's telling you that maybe you're overreacting.

Are you?

You don't know. You don't know how someone is supposed to react upon learning that their ex, the person they were once so in love with, the one who also crushed their heart without a second thought, is going to become their boss.

You release an exhausted sigh before getting up and walking towards the big glass wall. Looking down you find traffic and people rushing, and can't help but compare it to the commotion going on inside your head.

Currently, you are cursing your building's elevator for going out of service.

It had to be today out of all days. Isn't it?

Even lifting your feet from the ground feels like an extremely strenuous job for you. It feels like you're taking each step with a heavy load on your back.

Well, technically you are.

Since the moment, you read the mail, your brain has been busy coming up with different scenarios regarding how work from next week will look like for you. And out of the million scenarios, you didn't like any of them, because all of them somehow involved Jungkook.

Finally reaching your floor, you sigh in relief. Never have you found the way to the fourth floor, so tiring.

But now that you've reached home, maybe the sleep you so longingly desired would finally be yours. Maybe, you would finally get some rest and maybe, your mind will finally calm down.

Unlocking the door, you find the lights on which makes you frown.

You thought Tae would be asleep by now. He never stays up this late, none of you does actually, especially on weekdays.

You had texted him previously letting him know that you'll be late and had asked him not to stay up.

You've no idea what he is doing.

As you close the door, a little bark coming from the hallway breaks your train of thought. Turning around you find the little ball of energy running as fast as his little feet could carry him with his tail wagging even faster.

A small but genuine, smile appears on your face.

Stopping at your feet, Yeontan lets out barks demanding to be picked up.

You could feel your heart getting all mushy. How is he so cute?

Removing your heels, you bend down and pick him up and as soon as you do, he starts licking your face.

You couldn't help but coo at him. "Aww, did you miss me?"

He replies with more aggressive licks.

You chuckle at that. Although this is how Yeontan would welcome you every day, it never failed to make you feel rejuvenated after a long day's work.

Today's case might be a bit different than the usual, while it might not have made you feel completely rejuvenated, it still makes you feel way better.

You scratch behind his ears and smile at the happy bark he lets out.

"You're back." Glancing up, you see Tae coming out of the kitchen with a spatula in his hand and flour patches on his face.

"Yeah, I just arrived. What are you up to though?" You question his attire, a chef's hat and an apron that said hot stuff coming through.

Why are your friends so dramatic?

"I'm cooking, duh. What does it look like?" He rolls his eyes.

"This late?"

"Hmm. It's always good to keep in touch with your skills. Irrespective of the time."

"If that's the case–" you raise your eyebrow in curiosity, "–what are you making?"

He scowls at that, almost looking offended. "Don't tell me you didn't figure it out by now."

You pout at him in an attempt that it would convince him to tell you, but his scowl only deepens. So, you settle for sniffing the air like the weirdo you are.

Your eyes widen upon realising.

How could you miss it?

"Chicken butter masala?"

A smug look appears on his face. "With naan"

Your absolute favourite.

A small squeal of delight escapes your lips which makes Yeontan, who was almost asleep in your arms, bark at you.

"Oops, sorry." You say sheepishly, immediately offering more scratches as an apology.

Tae is a great cook. You would even say that his dishes could beat many top-level restaurants. The idea of breaking your unintended fast, with your favourite dish and that too cooked by your favourite cook, did wonders to your sulking mood.

"Okay, that's my cue." He says upon hearing the beeping sound of the timer. "Go freshen up. We can then talk over dinner."

You pause at that.

Tae must have received the news by now and you expected that he would want to talk to you about this. Truth be told, you wanted to converse about it as well. You don't know what would come out of the conversation but it's unhealthy to bottle up emotions and you just really feel the need to talk about it with someone.

The thing that bothered you, was the over dinner part. You wanted to enjoy your meal to the fullest and you doubted it would be possible with Jungkook being the topic of discussion. You remember how your mouth turned into this weird mixture of sour and bitter, every time you heard people whispering and gossiping about him. At some point, it felt like the ghost of his name was haunting you.

You don't want that. You want to have your dinner in peace.

Moreover, you are feeling slightly better now. Freshening up will only give your brain time to figure out more reasons to worry.

You hold Tan, who had his little head snuggled against your neck and was finally asleep, a little tighter and walk towards the kitchen.

You want to talk now.

As you step into the kitchen, the beautiful aroma of various spices welcome you. Damn, you don't remember the last time you had this dish. Your heart, brain and stomach were dancing in joy at the promise of what waited after the talk.

Okay, yes, after freshening up too.

You clear your throat to announce your presence.

Tae surprisingly doesn't even flinch at that, as if he has been expecting you. "What?" He asks without turning towards you.

"I want to talk."

"Hmm"

"So...."

"Leave Tan in the living room first."

"What! Why? He's already asleep–"

Tae whips around at that and looks at you with narrowed eyes. "I'm already allowing you, in my kitchen in your dirty gross clothes, don't test my limits."

You narrow your eyes right back. "Give me–"

He shuts you up by narrowing his eyes even further.

Huffing, you reluctantly exit the kitchen. You wanted to stomp but don't in fears of waking Yeontan up.

You gently put him down on the couch and smile at the way he whines, at the loss of your warmth.

He's such a spoilt baby.

Making sure he's comfortable, you walk back into the kitchen to find Tae leaning against the counter, waiting for you.

You cross your arms in annoyance. "Why did you make me put Tan down? He was providing me so much comfort." Your voice turns into a whine by the end of the sentence.

"Well I know how much you're going to swear and Tan is far too innocent for that. I don't want him to be traumatized." He replies in a monotonous voice.

Why are you still friends with him again?

The smell of beautiful flavours reminds you exactly why.

"Whatever" You reply before marching to where he is and take off his chef's hat.

His protests come instantly. "Hey, how dare you touch–"

"Shut up, I can't have a proper talk with you when you look like that." You grumble out.

"What do you mean? A chef's hat is like a king's crown." If he wasn't offended when you couldn't immediately tell what he was cooking, he sure as hell is now.

"Be grateful that I'm not taking off that apron of yours." You say, your voice leaving no room for argument.

You walk towards the small, two-seater dining table, rest the hat on the surface and take a seat, waiting for Tae to join you.

"I'm going to put extra salt in your food someday, you'll see." He mumbles as he takes the seat opposite to you.

Extra salt? Well then, you'll hide his favourite Gucci t-shirt.

Smirking internally, you maturely decide to ignore his statement.

Leaning forward, he clears his throat and you feel the air getting tense, the playful mood of bantering disappearing.

"So, how was work today?"

A snort escapes your mouth.

What a way to start the conversation.

"It was great. You tell me." You chime, sarcastically.

Tae only raises one of his brows at that, his trademark move. All his eyebrow raises have different meanings though, and after knowing him for almost five years, you have become an expert at decoding each of his brow raise.

This one screamed, you done?

You release a deep breath. "I don't know Tae today has been filled with surprises and not the good kind."

He hums. "I was surprised too. I did read some news about their company buying smaller companies but wasn't expecting FCS to be one of them."

"They were buying smaller companies?" Scowling, you wonder out loud.

He hums again. "Came across an article about that on the net, you'd know anything about it if you read some news."

Well fuck.

"Say, I knew that they were buying companies but I doubt it would make it any less shocking. We didn't know shit. I mean when did this all even take place?"

"I agree, none of us knew anything about it and I have no idea when all of this took place." A frown appears on his face. "But from what I have heard, the final papers were signed at last month's party."

"Last month's party as in when I saw him?"

Receiving a nod from Tae, you slump in your chair at the realisation.

He wasn't there for nothing. He wasn't there attending just another party, as you had initially thought, no, he was finalising the deal. Finalising his way back into your life. You doubted he knew that at the time. But looking at it now, a part of you wanted to laugh. If only then, you knew that running away was of no use. You'd save some energy, wouldn't have reacted as heavily and would have also saved the cab fare.

Taehyung places a hand under his chin. "That isn't really what's bothering you though."

You sigh.

You wonder how many times you have sighed today. Is there a record for sighing the most number of times in a day? If so, you're pretty sure you have broken all records.

"What now?" You finally manage to ask the question that has been stuck in your head.

He looks at you with soft, sympathetic eyes. "I don't know really but don't stress about it too much."

"I don't want to stress about it but I can't help it. I picture what it will be like to see him again when that's the last thing I want." You say, your voice shaky, allowing yourself to show the vulnerability you have been trying to hide so desperately.

His eyes soften, even more, he knows how much you hate feeling weak and helpless. "Have you asked yourself why it's bothering you so much?"

No.

That's a complicated question, one you haven't given much thought to.

While yes, there's the obvious reason that he is your ex, with whom things ended in the most terrible and painful ways but is that it?

A part of you says, no.

When you first came to America, you felt lonely and stranded, with your heart always feeling heavy. Sometimes your mind would wonder if it was just a dream, a very bad, cruel dream. But the harsh reality never took long to remind you just how real everything was. You didn't even have anyone you could just talk to, the bare minimum any person needs while going through shit.

In those days, you felt pathetic. To you, that was your identity, a lonely pathetic girl who can't get over her ex breaking up with them.

But even then, never did you wish you had stayed back in Korea. Never did you think of moving back, which by the way, your parents had offered you to, at least a thousand times.

To you, the pain, was worth it if it meant you were miles away from him.

And maybe that's why you are irate. Him buying your company, just puts all of that to waste, doesn't it? Yes, it's been six years, you no more consider yourself a pathetic person, but even then a part of you just doesn't like the thought of being anywhere near Jungkook.

Simply, you always held a grudge against him for hurting you the way he did. It also doesn't help that he is now your boss, if anything, it only adds fuel to the fire.

But is that all?

You're not so sure.

"I don't know if there's one particular answer to that, it's complicated. There are so many reasons, some I'm not even completely aware of." You decide to be truthful. "All I know is I hate to be put in this situation."

Tae's face changes into an expression that you know very well, it's the face he makes every time the philosophical side of him is about to make an appearance. "So, you know what you're feeling but you don't completely know why you're feeling the way you are."

You nod. "In a way, yes."

"Do you think it might be because you don't know how you feel about Jungkook?" Seeing that you're about to object to his question almost immediately, he clarifies. "What I mean is, I know that you don't harbour any of the old romantic feelings towards him, but you sure do feel a certain way about him, they might not be the nicest of feelings but you still do. So what I'm asking is, do you have a clear picture of the emotions you feel when it comes to him?"

"I don't think so." Whispering you realise that you've always pushed this issue under the rug and maybe that's why you still have unsettled emotions about him.

Tae looks like he expected that answer. "Have you ever thought that this might actually be good for you? It might help you get a clear picture about what you feel about him and when you do, you can work on it."

"Maybe I don't want to." You shrug. "I have been doing pretty fine in my life, it's not an issue that needs to be dug. Not knowing how I feel about him, has never been a problem, even on the very few occasions, that it has been, it's been manageable. And trust me, if his presence in my life is what it takes to solve this issue, I'd rather not solve it."

"Are you sure you're not downplaying it?" He raises one of his eyebrows again, this one lets you know that he sees right through you.

But you're not going to let this conversation take that turn. "Can we get back to the main problem here?"

His brow comes back to its original place and sensing that you're not going to talk about it, he nods. "About Jungkook being our new boss, I don't think it would be a problem."

"What do you mean?" You ask, your voice incredulous. The concept of Jungkook not being a problem sounded too good to be true.

"I mean, yeah he's going to be our boss but so what?" He says in a questioning tone, relaxing back in his chair.

"Oh, yes please go on being all vague, I appreciate it so much." You deadpan.

He has the audacity to roll his eyes. "How much was Mr. Denver involved in your life?"

And you immediately get the point he's trying to make.

Mr. Denver has been an extremely inspirational person in your life but with well-maintained boundaries.

But that doesn't ease you completely.

"It's not that simple. Jungkook and I share a past. I don't even have any idea what to do if he tries talking to me?"

"Well if he talks to you, you reply and how you reply depends on whether you want your relationship with Jungkook to be anything more than that of an employee and an employer."

You shake your head immediately, you'd never want any form of relationship with him, the fact that you both still will have one, even if it's that of an employee and an employer, is testing your limits, having any sort of relationship with him outside of workspace is beyond your imagination.

"You know I don't want to." You grumble.

"Well then, it's simple. How he behaves or reacts to you is not in your control but how you carry yourself, is."

Hmm.

Even though it's not the ideal situation, this makes you feel better because this way you don't feel as helpless you did minutes ago.

Tae sighs. "Listen, I know it's not the most likeable situation but try not to overthink it, it's not going to be of any use. Even though it might suck, just know you're not alone. Okay? If anything ever weighs on your mind, you can always come to me."

These words work like magic. It makes you feel confident as if whatever it is, you'll be able to deal with it because you're not alone, like you once were. Even if something goes wrong, you'll still have a shoulder to cry on.

You feel some of the weight being lifted off your chest.

"And if he becomes too much of a bother, we can always send Tan to scare Jungkook away."

The mental image of the scene plays in your mind and a fit of giggle escapes you. "Common, he can't scare anyone away, even if he tried to. He's just too cute."

Tae stares at you with his mouth hanging open. "I'll let you know, he definitely can."

"He can't, never in your wildest dreams. But at least he scares the bugs away– " You drum your fingers on the table, "–unlike you." He puffs his chest in defence, which makes it all the more difficult for you to control your laughter. It's quite the sight, especially with that apron he is wearing. "I'm not scared of bugs, I just don't.... like them."

You scoff, totally enjoying riling him up. "Then don't ask me to shoo away the bugs from next time."

He leans forward with squinted eyes. "I won't."

Smirking, you reply. "We will see."

Nodding, he leans back in his seat, squinted eyes still fixed on you.

You mimic his position but your eyes soften, the sneer being replaced with a small smile, and the tension that you have been carrying all day, leaves your body. "Thank you."

Saying these words, you hope he understands that you aren't just expressing your gratitude for the way he patiently listened and conversed with you. You're also thanking him for his thoughtfulness. The fact that he cooked your favourite dish, to make you feel better (you did not buy that 'keeping in touch with your skills' bullshit even for once), after returning from work and that too on a day where he learns that the company he has been working for has been sold, is something else entirely.

And if you were to go with the way the corner of his mouth lift, he knows.

"Well, I'm amazing, I know, I know." There he goes again.

"Shut up, I give you thanks once, take it, you won't get it back." You roll your eyes playfully.

"You know you love me so whatever." He replies cheekily. "But now that we are done, I'll have to go and check on my beautiful naans." He swiftly gets up, the sound of chair scraping against the floor, reaching your ears.

He shuffles through the cabinet searching for something in particular. Stumbling upon a flask, he turns towards you.

"I forgot, I made some tea a few hours ago, you wanna have some?"

"I don't think it's healthy to have tea on an empty stomach." You shrug, not paying much attention to what you just said.

"What?!"

Oh shit.

"Hello, my eyes are here. I need an explanation and I want you to be looking at me when you provide me one." Although you aren't looking at him, you are sure he has his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

"I'm sorry. I just didn't feel like having anything today." Your mutter, voice small. You feel like you are being scolded by a parent.

He huffs. "Considering today's circumstances, I'll let it slide, but I expect this to be the last time. If this repeats, you won't be off the hook so easily."

You only nod in response.

He goes back to shuffling the cabinets and takes out a container filled with cookies.

"Go wash your hands and have these." He orders, putting the cookies on a plate.

"Okay, dad."

"Eww, that's gross. Didn't know you were into that."

"That's not what I meant!"

THEN

You were four when a butterfly landed on your open, welcoming palm.

You remember staring at the delicate creature and its pretty, blue fluttering wings with so much awe. You also remember pouting heavily and complaining to your brother when the butterfly flew away.

That's also when you developed this pull towards nature.

At first, it was curiosity. You were curious about everything. You'd often follow the trails of ants or maybe crouch down and watch a croaking frog. You're pretty sure at some point, at least one of them, if not all of them, side-eyed you while croaking to his people about how there's this weird human watching them like a creep.

As you grew, your curiosity grew into appreciation.

Now that you're sixteen and are well into your teenage years. You've learned that it isn't everything the movies and rom-coms make it out to be. Teenage years can be stressful. Mainly because the most unimportant things become the most important.

Funnily, you've also learned to seek comfort in nature.

And that's why you're here, sitting near the lakeside.

Not that, you're stressed or it's not like you have something heavy on your mind at the moment. It's just that stress is what first brought you to this place. You can't even properly remember what got to you but if you are not wrong it had something to do with your less than satisfactory marks in the maths exam. That was two years ago and since that day you've developed this habit of spending lunchtime here. But then who wouldn't love to feel the cool breeze blowing through their hair while having their lunch? You also, sneakily pet the ducks sometimes but don't tell that to anyone.

Settling comfortably, you open your lunch box. Finding delicious chicken sandwiches waiting for you, you lick your lips.

That's another thing about you, you're quite the food enthusiast.

Taking the first bite, you hum in delight. These are too good.

You're about to go for a second bite when you feel a shadow looming over you. Looking up, you find Jungkook standing, well, awkwardly.

"Hey?" You ask, unsurely.

"Hey–," he scratches the back of his neck a habit of his when he is nervous, or so you assume, "–do you mind if I join?"

"No, I don't. It's absolutely fine."

"Are you sure?"

Quite the deja vu, huh?

You roll your eyes and pat the space next to you. "Yes, I'm sure and stop being so formal with me."

He slowly walks towards where you are sitting and fiddles with his lunch box. "I just want to make sure, you aren't saying yes just –"

"If I remember correctly, I was the one who asked you if you'd like to join me."

"I know you did, but that was a week ago, and I don't know if it is still okay to join you, you know?"

"Well then, I'm telling you again, it's completely fine and you can join me whenever you want."

He gives you his usual shy small smile and finally sits next to you.

A comfortable silence falls.

In the span of one month, that you've known him, you've observed a few things about Jungkook. One of them being, how he's a bit shorter than you or how you are a bit taller than him. At least that's how you prefer saying it. You don't know how you did not notice it the very first time but when you did you were so excited. You remember returning home that day and when your mom asked how your day has been you replied saying that there is this new boy in your class and that you're taller than him. An answer, you know that didn't make sense but you were too happy to care.

Another thing you've noticed is, unlike what you assumed, he's just as shy as he was on the first day, minus the jumpiness that is. Throughout the day he'd remain extremely quiet and only speak if it's extremely necessary.

That also has something to do with why you were quite surprised to see him approach you. Knowing that he has no friends here and spends the lunchtime all alone, you've asked him if he'd like to join you on various occasions, you've also maintained gaps between your offers so that you don't come off as overbearing. But every time he has politely declined, which you have reasoned might have to do something with his shy nature.

You don't want to overthink it though. Maybe he finally felt comfortable enough to spend time with you or maybe he got bored. Whatever it is, you are not going to risk making him uncomfortable by asking him.

"Do you want some?" You ask after some time, offering a piece of your sandwich.

Sensing another is it okay or are you sure on the tip of his tongue, you glare at him, playfully of course, and thankfully he gets the message.

You watch as his long fingers slowly take the sandwich from your hand.

As he takes a bite, a very intense expression appears on his face and if it were not for the moan of delight from him, you'd think he was severely angry or in pain.

A small chuckle escapes you, which causes Jungkook to snap his eyes open.

"Is it that good?" You ask in a teasing tone.

Jungkook to your surprise, doesn't shy away and nods furiously. "It is that good. I didn't even know chicken sandwiches could be this delicious."

Your smile only widens at that. "You can take more if you want."

At this, he gets shy again and mumbles a small thank you. For some reason, you feel happiness bloom in your chest at the lack of his hesitance.

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you until you break it. "So do you like the school?"

He faces you and ponders about your question for some time, before answering. "It's nice, I guess, but it's also too soon to come to a conclusion."

You hum, agreeing with him, after all, it has only been a month that he's joined. "What about the city?"

This time his reply comes instantly. "The city is not new to me, I was born here."

Your mouth forms a small oh learning this. Most of the new kids who would join your school were new to the city and so you assumed that he was as well but clearly you were wrong.

"Were you new to the city when you joined the school?" He asks.

You nod. "Yes, I was. Our family had to shift to Busan because of my father's business."

His eyes spark with curiosity. "If you don't mind me asking is your father a businessman?"

"Yes, he is." You reply meekly. "He is the founder and CEO of IBN."

This time it's his mouth that forms an oh but unlike yours, it's a big one.

The curiosity in his eyes is replaced with astonishment, a look you earn from almost everyone but you can't lie, there's something different about his reaction. His eyes reflect something genuine. With the other people that you've come across, they too reflect amazement on learning that you're none other than the heir of IBN but at the same time you can also sense the wheels running inside their heads. Jungkook's eyes however reflect pure astonishment. There's this weird innocence, that you can't explain in words.

And that's another thing you've observed about him, his eyes always make his feelings transparent.

"That's one of the biggest companies out there. I've heard so much about IBN from my father." He mumbles.

Hearing this, you too get curious. "Is your father a businessman as well?"

He nods slowly. "Yes, he is the CEO of Jeon Corporations."

Not knowing what to say as a reply, you settle for, "That's cool."

"You've never heard about our company have you?" He sees right through you.

Were you transparent too?

You reply with a small shake of your head, feeling a little shy and awkward.

Not knowing a company's name isn't that big of a deal because let's be honest there are millions of companies out there. But you've come across people, teenagers even, who take great offence to not knowing about their business. Some even react as if you've committed the biggest crime out there.

That's the reason you decided to hide the fact that this is the first time you're hearing that name but that certainly didn't work.

"That's okay, it's not that big of a deal and our company is fairly new, so it's not that huge yet," he assures you seeing your nervous body language, and it works, his words instantly put you at ease.

Before you can reply, not that you had a proper one, he begins again, quite excitedly might you add, "My father started the company a few years ago. It's a private sector company. I want to become the CEO someday and if I do, I will expand the company and make it as big as I can."

Although he started with full excitement, he becomes shy by the end of the sentence, as if realising his sudden burst of energy.

You can't help but find it cute.

He's cute.

"So, a CEO, huh?" Seeing him nod to your question, you decide to tease him, just a little bit. "Everyone's going to call you Mr. Jeon, then."

His cheeks redden as he grumbles something inaudible.

You chuckle quietly to yourself and take a huge bite of your sandwich when a sudden realisation clicks in your brain. "Dis is da mosh eu hab tolk to me."

Jungkook looks at you weirdly and then breaks into fits of laughter. Uncontrollable laughter.

Seeing him laugh like that, you can't help but chortle.

It wasn't even that funny.

"You look like a squirrel." He somehow manages to say.

Finally, gulping down the sandwich, you respond. "Well, I'm a cute squirrel then."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Heyyyyyyyy." You pretend to be offended.

He only cackles harder.

Is it that easy to make him laugh?

You don't know, but now that you've heard it, you know that he has a pretty laugh.

Where did the book go?

Not on the third shelf.

Not on the second shelf.

Not on the first–

There it is.

Finally finding the book that you've been searching for more than half an hour, you sigh.

You check if all the pages are intact. Finding that they indeed are, you issue the book and return to your seat.

"I finally found it." You whisper to Jungkook, who's sitting in front of you on the other side of the desk.

"Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire?" Seeing you nod, he further asks, "have you read the first three?"

"Yes, I have and all of them are so amazing."

He hums in agreement and goes back to scribbling.

Huh?

Weird.

He has been like that since morning.

You wouldn't find it weird had it been a month ago but since the day he spent his lunchtime with you, he has been a little more interactive and at ease around you. He doesn't hesitate to join you for lunch anymore, asks if he's facing any problem with studies, sometimes hums unconsciously and even converses with you, although it's usually about school and stuff, it's still enough for you to find his behaviour weird.

At first, you thought it might have something to do with the exam that took place today but then you asked him about the paper and he replied saying it went pretty well.

Now that you have a clear view of his face and observe him, it becomes very clear to you that something is wrong.

"Jungkook?" You whisper, trying not to get another scolding from your library sir.

Hearing his name he looks up.

"Are you okay?"

He fidgets with the pen in between his fingers and takes a breath before answering. "Yes, I am."

His eyes tell you otherwise.

You're about to ask him if he's sure when the stern voice of your library sir reaches your ears.

"Jungkook and Y/N, I expect the both of you to follow the library rules."

Well, he sure has a superpower of hearing.

Giving him a timid nod, you start pretending to intensely read the book.

After some time, you glance up to check on Jungkook, only to find him going on with his scribbling.

What's with him and scribbling today?

Looking back at your book, your mind starts to wonder.

What is bothering him? His eyes looked just so sad. There was another emotion you saw a flicker of. Desperation. Although, you're not so sure.

A second question pops in, why do you care?

That's a difficult one. It's not like you would be nonchalant about someone being sad, no matter who they are. Seeing someone down, makes you want to try to and make them smile and make them feel lighter. But your action about the matter depends on whether you know them or not and even if you do know them, to what extent. Trying to have a heart to heart conversation with a stranger is weird and even if for some people it isn't, you don't have the confidence to just walk to someone and begin one.

Jungkook for sure is not a stranger but then he's also just your classmate, like the other thirty-seven students in your class. While yes, he's also your seatmate but that is all that there is.

You don't even know how much a person is supposed to know about the other or how much time someone is supposed to spend with the other after which they can be considered friends. But even then, you're pretty sure you and Jungkook aren't exactly what people call friends. You both are a little more than acquaintances and a little less than friends.

With someone, who's in that weird limbo, you'd usually ask if they want to vent, if they don't, you just let it be, you never push them. You're aware pushing anyone unnecessarily is an invasion of privacy, you wouldn't prefer someone doing that to you and so you never do that to anyone.

That's why you can't explain why you feel this need to act upon your want of making him feel better. Maybe it has something to do with his big doe eyes, which always have curiosity filled in them but are now filled with sadness. So much sadness.

And that's what causes another question to rise.

How are you going to cheer him up?

That's a difficult one too.

If you knew exactly what's been bothering him, it might have been easier for you to figure out the how part, but you don't. You don't expect him to share with you either. But it also doesn't help the fact that you know literally nothing about him. His favourite genre of music, favourite artist, favourite films, favourite dish, heck you don't even know his hobby.

You slump in your seat dejectedly.

Couldn't you ask him the most basic questions? What's wrong with you? This way it's never–

Wait a minute.

You straighten up in your seat at the speed of light as an idea hits you.

It might work. Just might. And that 'might' is better than nothing.

You glance at the big wall clock to find it's only five minutes away from lunch. After the bell rings, you'll ask him, you mentally decide.

Those five minutes pass by slowly, with you constantly tapping your feet, but you also make sure that it doesn't make any noise.

As soon as the bell rings, you pack your things, get up and patiently wait for Jungkook to do the same. As he finishes packing, you both head towards the door side by side, an awkward silence lingering in the air, although you're pretty sure it's only you who's finding it awkward because you've something to ask but you don't know how to.

What if he declines? He has every right to and considering his mood most likely he will.

What if you don't ask him at all? Then maybe, he'll just sulk all day, which will also make you feel bad and worried for him.

A question never hurt anybody.

"Jungkook, do you want to go somewhere with me?" You blurt, immediately wincing at how weird that sounded.

Your stupid silly brain.

Jungkook, though, doesn't look weirded out by your question, if anything he looks confused. "Where and when?"

You stubbornly refuse to let the hope and relief wash over you at his question. "Umm, it's in the school campus really and I was thinking, we can go during lunch." You shrug, trying not to show your nervousness.

"Okay, sure." He agrees.

This time, you let the relief take over you and release a breath. Quite honestly, you were surprised that he agreed so easily but more than anything, you were glad that he even agreed.

"Let's go, then."

With dense bushes and about feet tall grasses, you have no doubt in your mind that this is probably one of the most unkept areas on your school campus. The dry leaves crunch beneath your feet as you walk, Jungkook following closely.

Along with your lunchbox, you're also carrying an additional one, which Jungkook hasn't noticed, even if he has, he hasn't mentioned or asked you about it. Which you're honestly thankful for.

A high pitched scream from Jungkook makes you whip around.

"What happened?" You ask rushing towards Jungkook, whose shaking form, makes you feel extremely concerned.

"Something dropped on my shoes." He says with his eyes closed in fear.

This only causes your worry to double up. Although you've never come across a snake in the various frequent visits you've paid, you can't erase that as a possibility. You look down frantically, trying to find the subject of his fear.

When you do spot it, you desperately try to hold back the snort trying to escape you. There's a part of you that's asking you to scare him and play a prank but you decide otherwise, he's already having a bad day and looks scared enough.

"Jungkook, open your eyes."  You say, softly with slight humour in your voice.

"I-i-is it safe?"

Okay, now you feel bad.

"Yes, it is."

He slowly opens his eyes, unsure and looks down.

"Is that–"

"Bird poop, yes."

His brows come together in a mix of disgust and embarrassment. "Well, shit."

"Quite literally." You chuckle.

"Umm, I didn't know that this is what it was, I'm sorry if I scared you." He mumbles, clearly embarrassed by his display of fear over something that isn't scary.

"No, it's okay, if anything it's funny," you let yourself tease him just that much and to your surprise, his lips quirk up ever so slightly.

"Okay, but how do I get rid of it?" He asks as he scowls to hide the smile.

"We can just wipe it off with a leaf and I got sanitiser in my pocket so we can sanitize the spot as well as your hands after you're done."

He nods in response, agreeing that it's the best that can be done at the moment.

You hold his lunchbox for him as he bends down to collect a leaf and does the needful, when you hesitantly begin, "I'm sorry for bringing you here, it's not the ideal place, I understand why you got so scared and I'd understand if you don't want to go any further. We can just head back."

He straightens up and takes the sanitiser from your hand. "No, it's completely fine, we have already come a long way and heading back now, is only going to put it at waste."

"No, you don't have to–"

"It's completely fine," He cuts you off as he sanitizes his hands, and gets shy again before saying "Just, maybe, umm, can we walk side by side–"

Seeing how shy and borderline uncomfortable he is getting, this time you cut him off. "That's absolutely reasonable, I should have been doing that in the first place, I'm sorry."

His body language eases almost immediately at the thought of not having to walk alone as he nods gratefully. "It's okay and thank you."

As you both start walking again, side by side this time, you can't help but feel stupid. Who thought it was a good idea to bring him along with you? Right, it was you.

Poor kid already has been having a bad day and then you bring him to a mini-amazon. It's still a surprise that he hasn't even asked you a single question regarding where the both of you are headed and has been patiently just trailing along with you.

Maybe he is cursing you in his mind thinking why on earth did he agree to go along with you. Maybe he thinks you have gone nuts. Heck, maybe you have.

Your anxiety only doubles up at the thought of the trouble not being worth it. What if your effort just doesn't make a difference? What if he only gets annoyed when you tell him or rather show him why you brought him here? Even more important question, what if they don't like him?

These are questions you should have thought earlier, you idiot.

Your footsteps stop as you approach the spot.

"So, we're finally here." You say, gulping, the anxiety refusing to leave.

Jungkook who has also stopped walking beside you, looks around confusedly. "What's so special about this place?"

"You'll see in a minute." You mumble mainly to yourself but he hears it anyway. "I'm sorry, but it's better if I head first from here, you can come closer when I tell you to."

Jungkook only becomes more confused but agrees anyway.

You cautiously step forward. If it were any other day, they would have been out by now, would be trying to climb you like a tree but today you see no traces of them. Something you are pretty sure has to do with your companion.

Not finding them anywhere in the out, you peek under the bush you know to be their home. And surely, two shining eyes blink back at you.

You wave your hand in greeting.

Hey, you're weird and you never denied it.

Seeing that they aren't coming out, you open the lunchbox that you use to carry food for them, hoping to lure them in.

To no one's surprise, three similar but much smaller pairs of shiny eyes come into view. One pair of which comes closer to you, until its tiny head and gradually its entire comes out of the bush.

Jungkook releases a small gasp.

Okay, so maybe not to no one's surprise.

You smile as the tiny creature comes closer to the lunchbox and takes a bite from one of the meatballs and meows in approval. You just knew he would be the first one to give in.

"She's so tiny." Jungkook whispers. Although you weren't facing him, you could still imagine his eyes being wide like saucers.

"He's a he and his name is Milo." You correct Jungkook, slowly petting the kitten's head as you take out a few meatballs and put them in front of him. "You can come closer now."

You get up from your crouching position as Jungkook slowly approaches where you are standing. Seeing him come closer, another body comes out of the bush.

"He isn't the only one?" He whispers, halting his steps immediately.

You softly shake your head, smiling at how flabbergasted he looks. "There are four of them actually, she is Mama C and this one is Milo"

"O-O-Okay but why is Mama C looking at me weirdly?" He asks voice low and sounding a little scared.

A small laugh escapes you. "She isn't acting weird, she's just cautious of you, that's the most natural thing considering you're a total stranger to her and that too when you're so close to her kids."

"Makes sense but umm she's coming closer to me, do I stay still? Do I bend down? Do I offer her my hand? What should I do?" He asks urgently voice even lower, almost a whisper.

Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Don't laugh at how scared he looks. It's rude.

"Do what feels natural to you, she isn't going to harm you." You shrug.

Jungkook looks even more scared to be put on the spot. He fumbles a little bit until he slowly crouches down. You watch as Mama C stops a few centimetres away from his feet and just looks at him with narrowed eyes. Jungkook shakily offers his open palm to her and you watch in amusement as she sniffs his hands and gives it a tentative lick.

Time pauses as she seems to contemplate before giving out a meow, which you assume was one of approval because as soon as she does that, the other two kittens rush out of the bush as if they have been waiting for the permission for ages.

Now surrounded with three kittens, you offer food to the other two. Jungkook just looks awkwardly at Mama C as she turns around with full sass and walks towards you to get her share of food. You smile as she takes small bites from the meatballs in your hands.

"Do they have names too?" Jungkook asks, indicating towards the two new addition.

You nod. "She's Minnie and he is Juno." Scratching behind the ears of the said kittens, you doubt if he'd be able to distinctly remember the names. After all, they just look so similar, thick white fur with occasional black patches here and there. Initially, you used to get confused too but now you can just tell.

"They are so cute." Jungkook mumbles in awe.

You hum. "They are. You can try and feed them if you want to."

His eyes sparkle as if he has been waiting for those particular words but you also see the slight nervousness in them. "Will they let me?"

"You've got approval from Mama C so I'm pretty sure they will." You smile at him reassuringly and pass him the lunchbox. Milo's eyes follow your movements like a hawk. Realising that Jungkook now has his food, he parades his way to him as fast as he can, without giving you or anyone a second look. It only makes you chuckle at his behaviour.

Jungkook puts a few meatballs in front of him and Milo dives in without paying Jungkook any attention. "Isn't he eating too fast?" He frowns.

"That's how he usually eats. If you feel like it, you can break the meatballs into pieces and maintain some gap between feeding him. Although be careful, he gives these dangerous kitty eyes if you don't give him food fast enough, which can make anyone feel guilty and will make you feel terrible." You warn him seriously but with the way he nods, you know he didn't take the kitty eyes part seriously.

Oh boy, he'll learn it the hard way.

Once you feed all the meatballs that you had, you get up to fetch some more from the lunchbox, which makes the other three cats meow and follow you.

You crouch next to Jungkook and take a few out to feed them. As they feast on it, you slowly start petting Mama C, your heart-melting at the way she softly purrs. "You can try and pet them too, you know?"

"Can I?" He whispers, sounding unsure.

"Go for it, but if you pet Milo he possibly won't even realise that you're petting him because when he eats, he doesn't care about anything."

He furrows his brows while looking at Milo. "Whom should I pet then?"

"You can try pet her." You motion towards Mama C who's currently putty in your hands.

"She's intimidating, I don't think she'll let me." He says, looking even more unsure.

"She isn't intimidating at all, trust me." You say trying to assure him.

He nods but you can tell he still feels unsure. Shuffling closer to you, he shakily puts his hand on the top of her head and just keeps it there for some time, waiting for any sign that lets him know that she doesn't want to be petted by him.

She just looks up at him, for about a second and then goes back to her food. Jungkook takes this as a sign that she's okay with him and slowly runs his hand from the top of her head to the middle of her body in a back and forth motion.

The biggest smile breaks on his face when she starts purring. It's a genuine smile, mixed with excitement and slight disbelief.

You've noticed previously that he has bunny teeth but you've never seen them full-on display like this. The time he laughed during lunchtime, his head was thrown back, but now you see his bunny teeth, you realise it makes his smile just that much more adorable.

"She isn't as scary as I thought, she's kinda cute." He says to you with visible giddiness, getting a little bold with petting and feeling more confident.

You chuckle, feeling happy that your plan didn't go to waste and that it actually worked. "She is."

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you, the only sounds being the cats chewing on their food and the occasional purring.

After some time you hesitantly begin with something that's been on your mind. "Jungkook, if it isn't too much to ask, please don't tell anyone about this place or about them."

His hands that were busy petting momentarily stop as he turns towards you with curiosity etched on his face. "Is it like your secret spot?"

You sigh, feeling unsure as to how to explain it. "You can put it that way, I guess, but more than that, this is their safe space. When I first found Mama C, she was injured, it might be so that she accidentally hurt herself but it looked like someone intentionally hurt her. She couldn't even walk and she was pregnant. Can you imagine that? That was about a month ago, and I somehow brought her here because it didn't seem like anyone visited this place, treated her and everything and now she seems fine. So yeah, if anyone else were to find this place, I'd feel very anxious about anyone hurting them or even making them feel uncomfortable." You ramble in one breath.

Jungkook just looks at you for some time and his grip on Mama C's fur tightens just the slightest, not enough to be uncomfortable but in a protective way. "I won't tell about them to anyone." He says, his voice sincere, letting you know that he means it.

You give him a small and equally sincere smile. "Thank you."

"If you don't mind me asking, why did you bring me to this place?" He asks with a curious frown on his face.

Well shit. How do you answer that?

Do you lie? Even if you do what do you say? You just thought of bringing him here? Was that even a good enough reason? You believe he knows, that you two aren't all buddy-buddy enough for you to just casually bring him here, especially after telling him how much this place means to you. It's not that you don't trust him, you know that he won't ever think of causing any harm to anyone, he just has this aura of innocence that is somehow undeniable which also makes this image of him harming anyone seem impossible. But then again, there are plenty of people who wouldn't possibly harm the cats, but that doesn't mean you'll just go on inviting everyone.

Seeing that your mind won't come up with a good enough lie, you settle for the truth. "You've been down since morning and it looked like something was bothering you so I thought bringing you here would make you feel better." Your voice gets smaller as you speak and you don't dare to look at him.

The longer he remains quiet, the more you get anxious.

Is he going to tell you that's it's none of your business? Is he going to get mad at you?

To your surprise, he does none of that, instead, he himself sounds surprised. "You noticed?"

"It was kind of obvious." You shrug, still feeling a bit unsure.

"Thank you." He mutters in the softest of voice, which gives you the courage to turn towards him. "I'm feeling way better now, so thank you and it means a lot." He says, looking straight into your eyes.

The fear that you had of him misunderstanding you, immediately dissipates and a smile appears on your face. "Don't mind it, I'm glad I could help."

He gives you a smile in return, not a shy one but one that's rather not shy at all to show you, how grateful he is for your kindness and you find it beautiful in every possible way.

A small nudge on the palm of your hand gets your attention. Looking down, you find Minnie trying to lift your hand with her tiny little head to try to get you to pet her. Chuckling at her cuteness, you start scratching behind her ears and your heart warms at the way she closes her eyes and meows in satisfaction.

Jungkook's voice, however, makes you turn towards him again. "I, umm, just something happened that was bothering me, someone sa–"

"No, you don't have to feel obligated to tell me." Sensing where he was going with that sentence, you cut him off immediately.

He just looks down, fiddling with Juno's paws. "But you deserve to know–"

"No, I don't." You cut him off again, firmer this time. "Just because I brought you here, doesn't mean you have to tell me what's been bothering you. I brought you here and that was my choice. If you ever tell me or anyone something personal, it should be your choice and not an obligation or not because you feel like you should or have to."

Jungkook just keeps his head down and after some time nods his head, his posture which you didn't even realise had somehow stiffened, relaxes.

"Thanks." He whispers.

"You're welcome." You keep it short and simple. If by the way, his body eased immediately at the thought of not having to narrate to you about whatever it is that has been bothering him, it is pretty obvious that he doesn't feel comfortable enough to share it and you're going to respect it. Honestly, he shouldn't even be thanking you regarding it, in the very first place.

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you, except for the meows and purring.

"Can I be honest with you about something though?" Jungkook asks, breaking the silence. Seeing you nod in approval, he begins. "Mama C is a veerryyyy weird name."

"Hey! How dare you?" You exclaim, now fully turning towards him.

His eyes swirl with mischief as he exclaims back. "What? I'm just being honest."

"For your information, it's a very adorable name." You defend your choice of name, huffing.

"No, it isn't."

"That's a good joke. Haha."

"It wasn't a joke, it's the truth, duh."

"As if."

Whatever retort was on the tip of his tongue, never comes out because a hiss stops him from continuing. You both find the source to be Mama C, looking at the two of you with squinted eyes, a look that screams disapproval.

You automatically raise your hands in the air in surrender. "Okay, sorry. No more arguing about your name. Got it."

"And someone said she's not intimidating." Jungkook mumbles loudly, mimicking your pose.

"She isn't but you just made fun of her name and made her angry. Anyone would be offended."

"Well, she's clearly–"

Another hiss.

That makes the both of you quiet again.

After moments of intense staring at the two of you, she concludes that you both have shut up for good. She waddles towards you and lays down on your lap, with her head on the top of your thigh.

You swiftly turn your head towards Jungkook and slightly raise your brow in a way to say I won. He only raises his brow back in complete denial.

Riiiiinnggg.

And there goes the lunch bell.

As if knowing that you'll have to leave, Mama C slowly gets up and licks a portion of the skin that's visible between the hem of your skirt and your socks. Gently stepping out of your lap, she hisses at Milo who was now licking whatever remnants of food is left in the lunchbox. He only looks up being caught off guard.

Well with this kid around you never have to worry about any food going to waste, that's for sure.

The two of you get up and give up some goodbye scratches, which by the looks of it, are greatly appreciated.

"Next time, I want you to pay attention to me." Jungkook scolds Milo lightly. You ignore the giddiness that rises at the thought of him enjoying his time enough for him to think of a second visit.

This wasn't a blunder after all.

Bending down you collect the lunchbox when Jungkook speaks again, in a very confused tone might you add. "Umm, what is she doing?"

Facing him, you spot the source of his confusion and find extreme amusement at the sight in front of you. "Well, Minnie's trying to climb you." You snort. "That's her way of welcoming you to the family."

Jungkook's confused expression turns into one of disbelief and seconds later a burst of gleeful laughter escapes him.

This wasn't a blunder at all.

NOW

Today is Monday.

You don't know what you expected but even then to your surprise, the beginning of your day has been normal and nothing out of the usual.

Tan tried waking you up by licking all over your face but when you didn't wake up like he wanted you to, he 'scream-barked' near your ears, which made you spring up from your bed at the speed of light. When you tried scolding him for almost making you deaf, he gave you puppy eyes, because obviously.

After regaining some sense of hearing, you did your morning routine, chose a white blouse with a grey blazer and matching skirt as your outfit of the day, argued with Tae over breakfast about which out of DC and Marvel is better, left Tan at your nearest pet care centre, and then the both of you headed out.

Pretty normal.

The only thing that's been a reminder that it isn't just any other Monday, was the way Tae hugged you a little tighter and longer while whispering, it's going to be okay, before parting and making his way to the IT sector of the building.

You possibly stood there awkwardly in the middle of nowhere for some time, watching Tae's back as he walked, before finally taking a deep breath and calming yourself.

Today isn't just any other Monday but you'll deal with it.

Over the course of the week, you've accepted the fact that Jungkook is now going to be your boss. There's no denying that. But then that's just it right? He's only going to be your boss.

Honestly, from what you've heard from Tae, he's this big hot-shot of a CEO and lowkey a celebrity, whom you doubt you'll ever meet. But say, you do, even then it's only going to be once or twice and yeah maybe it would be awkward but that's okay, it would be weird if it's isn't awkward.

So yeah, as Tae said, it shouldn't be much of a problem.

And that's why you're calm, or at least way calmer than you expected yourself to be. You aren't going to lie, there's still this little anxiety at the back of your mind but that is normal and you have made peace with it.

That brings you here, in your office.

Checking the time on your wristwatch, you find it's 8:50, which means you're fairly on time.

You put down your handbag on the table and walk towards your chair to take a seat when the door of your office opens suddenly, startling you.

"Thank God you're finally here." Mina gushes, quite literally running towards you.

"Hey! Calm down, why are you in such a hurry?" A look of confusion appears on your face.

"I'm in a hurry because you have a meeting in ten minutes." She responds between shallow breaths.

Frowning, you ask, "Meeting in ten minutes? That early?"

"Yes, I got a mail that said new boss would like to have a meeting with the department heads, first thing in the morning." She explains further.

Your frown only intensifies and so does your anxiety. "New boss as in?" You ask just to be sure.

"Jeon Jungkook, duh."

Well fuck.

Really?

You're going to face Jungkook after six long years, more like you have to face Jungkook, and that too this early.

What's worrying you, even more, is the fact that he is going to know that you work here. When you left Korea, you left without a clue and you have no idea how he is going to react upon seeing you. If he–

Realising, where your thoughts are headed, you stop yourself immediately.

You're not going to waste your time, thinking about it. How he reacts is on him. You get no say on that. What matters is, you know how you're going to react.

Maybe it's too soon to see him, maybe you were totally unprepared for it, but the sooner you get over with it the better.

"Hey, you still functioning?" Mina's voice brings you back to reality.

"Sorry, I just wasn't expecting an early morning meeting but it is what is, I guess."

"I know, babe, no one likes early morning meetings buuuut it's 8:53 now and if you don't head out now, chances are, you'll be late." She informs you, tone slightly apologetic.

You hum in agreement. "Did they ask us to carry any specific files or documents?"

"Nope, not really. Just take a few sheets, I guess, in case you have to note down something."

You hum again before opening your drawer to collect a few sheets of paper and a pen. "So, I'll get going." You say, awkwardly, suddenly feeling doubtful about being in the same room as Jungkook.

"Hey, chill okay? It's all fine." It's funny how you don't even have to say but Mina automatically knows when something is bothering you.

You release a deep breath before nodding. "Thanks. Also, please just have a cup of coffee on my table when I come back."

She nods in response and with that, you finally head out.

On your way to the top floor, you can't help but notice this nervous aura radiating off from almost everyone. You feel for them, you really do. A lot of fears come along when you start working for a new company. You can only hope their fears turn out to be just that, fears and nothing else.

As the elevator door closes, you feel thankful that it's empty. Checking your reflection on the shiny reflecting doors, you feel confident about the way you look. No one would ever guess that there's anything that's running at the back of your mind and that's exactly how you prefer it.

Especially you won't ever let Jungkook know and give him the satisfaction that you indeed spent so much time of your week thinking about him. Although, they weren't the most pleasant thoughts about him but still, those thoughts somehow mean that he still kind of sort of affects you. Which is not what you want.

As the elevator door opens, you head straight out to the meeting room.

It's a huge room, to be honest. The kind of room that's simple, spacious yet slightly intimidating.

You open the door in one swift motion which makes all heads turn towards you and an awkward silence falls over the room.

Uh, okay.

You slowly close the door and take your seat, the third on the left side of the table. Sighing in relief, when the chatter resumes.

It's 8:57 and thank god you aren't late. You can only imagine how awkward it would be if you were to walk in when Jungkook was giving some sort of speech.

"Good morning Y/N." Alex, the head of the marketing department who's also sitting to your right, greets.

Turning your head towards him, you greet back. "Good morning, Alex."

"So, how are you keeping up with all this?" He waves his hand around slightly at the lack of better words.

"I don't know really, it sucks but it's not like how we feel matters, we have no say on it technically." You shrug.

"Well yeah, that is unless we–"

And the door opens.

Your head turns in sync with everyone to see Jungkook enter and your breath hitches.

When you saw him at the party, you just had a glimpse of him but now that you see him, you can't help but notice the obvious differences in him.

But what did you expect, it has been six years.

His facial features have matured, there's a very hard, calculative look on his face which you never saw on him in the past, there's this aura that he radiates which you'd otherwise find intimidating. His hair is dishevelled as if he has run his fingers through them countless number of times. He also has just overall grown a lot. He must be at least an inch or two taller than the last time you saw him, the width of his shoulder much broader.

His costly looking black suit adorns his body and by the looks of it, you possibly wouldn't find a single crease even if you tried. As his right hand comes up to fix his tie, you notice the tattoos, something you knew he always wanted but never knew he had finally gotten, and not to forget the various sliver rings on his fingers.

The sound of heels clicking against the floor makes you snap out of your trance.

Huh?

What were you doing?

This is an important meeting and were you just comparing the Jungkook that stands a few metres away, with the Jungkook that's ingrained in your mind from six years ago?

What is wrong with you?

Shaking yourself out of these thoughts and telling yourself to focus, your eyes follow the sound of heels to find a woman, in a red suit, closely following behind Jungkook.

What catches your attention, however, are her heels. They are like taaaallll, tall.

How does she walk in those? You have no idea.

"Good morning." Jungkook begins, taking his seat and you notice how his voice has turned slightly deeper, not too deep though. It's still very Jungkook, but also has this gravelly touch to it. It's the slightest of change that is noticeable but not an extreme one. You can still recognise his voice from anywhere, just like you did at the party.

"For those of you who don't know, I'm Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Jeon Corporations and this is my assistant, Miss Elene." Your eyes drift back to the woman in extra tall heels to find her standing at a distance from the chair Jungkook is sitting on. Honestly, you'd feel very awkward to be standing like that, but she looks more than okay, not minding the sudden attention on her.

"I know, the last few days might have been stressful for every one of you and that's why I called this meeting." Saying this, he makes eye contact with everyone, including you. What surprises you, is how unsurprised he looked.

Did he already know you work here? You're pretty sure by now, he already has a file that states all the names of the employees from FCS, maybe that's how he knows? Or maybe he checked the names of the people he was going to hold a meeting with? That's pretty normal and makes sense, you reckon.

"To begin with, there will be no change in positions for at least six months from now, you all will be on the same post as you were before." He gets straight to the point, with a stoic face. Seeing how Elene sports a very similar look, you wonder if that's an unspoken rule everyone working for Jeon Corporations needs to follow, to have a blank and emotionless face.

"At the end of each month, I expect both hard and soft copies of reports from each department head, on my table." Interlinking his fingers on the table surface, he leans forward. "There won't be much difference of workload from what you're used to." His eyes do a quick scan of everyone on the table.

"Though, there are some, rather small things that one needs to keep in mind while working for a company this big." The way he says these words doesn't make him calling his own company big, sound cocky, if anything they sound like he's just stating facts.

"Most of them you'll learn on your own, sooner than later, and honestly, it's for the best that you learn them by yourself. But the most important of them is, staying away from rumours." He pauses briefly to emphasise his point. "There are at least seven each day. Some if not all, are extremely misleading. Do not trust information if it's not from a reliable source, and I'd like to inform you, news channels and articles do not count as reliable."

Seeing a few head nods, he continues. "This building also will be the main branch of Jeon Corporations in the States and I'll be working and operating from here for some time. So expect a lot of unwanted media attention."

Oh?

Oh.

Ohhhhhh.

Haha. You're thoroughly fucked.

"Except for the points that I mentioned, everything is going to be the way it used to be. So I don't think any of you will face any problem but if you do, you can always reach out to Miss Elene." He leans back in his seat, before beginning again. "You will be shown a presentation and after that, if you have any questions that you want to ask, feel free to ask them."

Receiving nods of agreement from the people in the room, he signals Elene to begin the presentation, who then walks to the other side of the room, where the screen is.

As the presentation begins, you can't help but be amazed at the numbers on the screen. To say, that they are impressive would be an understatement. Jeon Corporations has made huge progress in the last few years. To be very specific, since Jungkook became the CEO.

There was this tiny part of you that was elated to know that the big, doe-eyed kid you met all those years ago got to achieve his dreams but you quickly shove those thoughts down.

Thinking about Jungkook won't do you any good.

After the presentation ends, a few rounds of questions are asked, which Jungkook answers precisely. Although you didn't have any questions, you doubt if you'd ask even if you had any.

"Any more queries?" He asks, his hard eyes roaming across the table. Being met with silence, he nods taking that as an answer. "That concludes the meeting, then."

"Welcome to Jeon Corporations."

It's surprising that the meeting ended as fast as it did. You honestly expected a lot more detailing and information being passed on but Jungkook kept it short, very to the point. He didn't start at a slow pace or gradually ease into it, no he just started talking about the things 'we should know', within five seconds of him entering the room.

You didn't expect the meeting to be so....extra professional.

Good for you, you guess. You didn't have to stay in the same room as him for long.

But one particular part of what he said has been the highlight for you.

He is going to work from here.

Aren't there other branches of Jeon Corporation in the States? Then why, just why?

Well, you know why, because the Universe had to play a sick joke on you and as a result of which, you have to see him at work every single fucking day.

Great. Just fucking great.

Your pace increases as you near your office. You feel like you will face-plant yourself and scream at the top of your lungs. Honestly, you might just need to scream to let off some steam.

But if only luck was on your side.

Just when you place your hand on the doorknob to open your office door a voice calls out for you.

Turning around, you find it to be Elene. "Yes?" You ask, with a confused frown.

"Mr. Jeon has requested you in his office." She says with a straight face.

Your brow quirks up in surprise. That bitch already has his own office in the building? This quick?

Is it wrong to call your new boss a bitch on the very first day? Probably so. Do you care? Not at all.

"Did he specify any reason?" You don't know why you asked this question it's not like it would make any difference. If he has summoned you, you have to go.

"No." Her reply comes short, but not in a way that shows impatience or annoyance.

"Well then, which room is his office?" You ask, releasing a sigh.

"The one that previously used to be Mr. Denver's room."

You only nod in response, before heading in that direction.

You were too busy cursing him in his mind to even wonder about the reason as to why he might have called you.

Just when you are about to knock on his door though, your hand pauses midway in the air.

Were you just going to walk in all frustrated? Were you going to show him you were affected?

Fuck, no you won't do that.

You might have slipped for a second, but he's not the only one who's good at putting up a business font and he's sure going to learn that.

Taking a few deep breaths, you calm yourself down and knock on the door. Hearing a faint come in, you push the door and to your surprise, Jungkook's eyes are already on you, as if he knew you were on the other side of the door.

"You called me, Mr. Jeon?"

Something very brief flashes through his eyes but it disappears just as quickly.

"Yes, please take a seat." He says in the same gravelly voice, without moving his eyes from you.

You walk towards the chair in front of his desk and take a seat, all the while maintaining eye contact with him. Maybe it's kind of silly, but if he wasn't going to back down, you aren't going to either. It's in large contrast to how you reacted to seeing him at the party, but there's no point in running away now, is there? The bare minimum you can do is to seem unbothered.

"So, how have you been?"

The question takes you by huge surprise, out of all the things you expected to come out of his mouth, you sure weren't expecting such a casual question.

But you don't let your surprise reflect on your features. "I'm sorry, Mr. Jeon but I don't get how it is any of your business." You reply, pretending to be genuinely confused.

His features harden slightly. "I haven't seen you in six years, you left without telling anyone, and now that I ask you the simplest of questions, you respond as if we are strangers." Perhaps, anyone will say that these words are that of frustration but with the way he says it in the same business-like tone, there's a part of you that finds it absurd yet hilarious.

It's a weird mix, hardened features with a relaxed, monotonous voice.

"Again, I'm sorry, Mr. Jeon, but like I said, I genuinely don't think it's any of your business after all you're my boss and I'm your employee and I'd prefer if it stayed that way." You say, your facade dropping just a little to let him know that you mean it.

His jaw clenches, his features harden even more but he still doesn't take his eyes off of you.

And neither do you, the only difference being, your features are much more relaxed, with a hint of a smile that can fool anyone into thinking that you're amused.

Seeing that he isn't saying anything else, you decide to break the tense silence. "Is there anything else, Mr. Jeon? If not, I have work to do."

And just like that, his features relax back into their regular expressionless state. "I'm sure you do and I won't keep you any longer, Miss Y/L/N."

You don't miss the way he emphasizes on miss. Although you've been addressing him as Mr. Jeon from the very moment you entered the room, he has refrained from directly using your name, but now that he did, adding the 'miss' seems to be his way of telling you, that he's going to give you what you want.

If you want to be professional, he'll be professional. If you want to pretend to be strangers, he'll pretend to be a stranger.

Giving a firm nod, you swiftly get up and leave, but on your way to the door, you feel his eyes burning holes at the back of your head.

As soon as the door closes, relief and a tiny hint of pride blooms in your chest. It went way better than you initially imagined it to be. Moreover, the last time you had a conversation with him, you were a broken sobbing mess, this time though, you didn't let him see through you.

There are certain things though which you just couldn't miss, even if you tried to.

Like, how his eyes were unreadable. Something that you didn't think was ever possible. From the very fast time that you met him all those years ago, his eyes would always reflect whatever it was that he was feeling but the long and tense eye contact you held with him in his office let you see that his eyes now had various layers to them, layers which helped him hide his emotions.

Then there was the fact that he has become so direct. First the meeting then the way he talked to you, he didn't beat around the bush at all, not even for a second. It felt like you were talking to someone who's trying to make a business deal, minus the 'convincing them' part of course, not that you wanted him to try or insist, because it would be of no use anyways, if anything it would only make you feel uncomfortable. You are glad he didn't take the conversation any further.

It's just that he's become all businessman, like.

It doesn't bother you though, it's just an observation.

But it only benefits you. If this is how Jungkook is going to be like as your boss, then it wouldn't be a problem at all. It will make your life way easier. Hell, you think you won't even notice his presence this way. He will be your boss, that's it. Nothing less, nothing more.

And currently, that's the best that you can settle for.

Taglist:

@miniiimee @its11-11mylove @jeonlovescoffee @mageprincess7 @namjooningelsewhere @unicornbabylover @drownforryou @diorggukie @koorosie @ggukkieland @joonwater @btsreader12 @shatzkrinslinzki @starbrightday @yoonchrisgull @shameless-army @mwitsmejk

fontana di trevi | 01

you seek out a vampire to help you with something.

pairing: vampire!jk x sadgirl, blood donor!reader

genre: vampire au, angst, fluff (really a sadgirl fic lol)

word count: 7.6k

warnings: blood, needles, talking about how you euthanize cows and such? suicidal thoughts (not graphic or elaborated? very straightforward?)

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 1/2

<previous | next>

© between takes is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

It’s a freezing cold December night when you step into the dark alleyway, your thighs having gone numb under your jeans a while ago. The sun set hours ago, and the only light present is that of a few scattered streetlights. 

Your pulse quickens as you take another cautious step. Something moves further in, where the light barely reaches, and since there’s no snow yet, you hear the slight crunch of frozen fall leaves under… footsteps. From the dark, a tall figure approaches slowly in a way that would have anyone’s blood chilling.

“I have a proposition,” you state, trying to stand somewhat tall.

"A proposition?” a low voice inquires, and you have to tilt your head up to look at the face that emerges from the shadows. “I’ll fuck you, but I’m not turning you for sex.”

“That’s not what—I don’t want sex or to be turned.”

He directs his full attention to you, and in turn, you get a better glimpse of his features. He looks like a man; incredibly handsome with jet black hair, eyebrows, and eyes, but his skin is paler than anything you’ve seen, and there’s the tiniest smudge of something red tinting the corner of his mouth. Though his eyebrow is raised, he doesn’t look very entertained.

“You can have my blood. All of it, if you just take it quickly.”

He lifts his hand to slowly wipe the red from his face. The outfit he wears—a black leather jacket and black pants—looks human but is definitely too cold to wear this time of year.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t simply take it if I wanted to? Why would I need your permission?”

“I’m just saying. Take it if you want it?”

He looks at you, seemingly at least a little intrigued by the odd human in front of him. You definitely understand that most people run the other way at the sight of this big, intimidating being. 

“You realize ‘all of it’ means you’ll be dead, right?”

You nod. “Do we have a deal?”

“Regardless of if I wanted to or not, I literally just… ate, so I physically can’t. Not for another week or so.”

You feel your shoulders drop slightly, and you blink, trying to improvise a plan.

“Okay, well… Do you want to meet here in a week, then?”

At that, he tilts his head. “You want to die here, in a dirty alleyway?”

“I don’t care. So yes or no?”

“If you want me to do this, give me something in return first, okay?”

You look at him in confusion. “You’re getting my blood?”

“Who's to say your blood is even good?”

Trying not to let his words discourage you, you look around, thinking. Maybe you should’ve played harder to get? At least in the sense of giving him a hunt? You don’t want to waste any time, but he might not be your best option. 

“Fine, do you know if there are other vampires around here? How do I find them?”

It took you three weeks to even find this one, and maybe it was more luck than anything, so setting off on another search doesn’t sound too exciting. These creatures really do live in the shadows.

“No, listen. Whether your blood is delicious or not, it would certainly be helpful to have it. But…”

“But?”

“Let me stock up on it first. Meet me at my place and let me take some every week for two months and then I’ll take the rest.”

You look around again, unsure if you should just try to find someone else. Two months is not ideal; it’s too long, and you’re sure you could manage to find someone else in the meantime. 

The vampire senses your hesitation and takes a step closer.

“You want it to be quick, which means you’re scared of pain. People around here, my kind, tend to drag it out. Pain and fear equal adrenalin, which gives the blood a certain… flavor that some enjoy. Agree to my compromise, and I’ll make it quick and practically painless.”

He gives you the smallest of smiles, barely a hint of one, but it feels wicked and makes a cold shiver run down your spine. You know he’s not trustworthy, but he’s getting a lot out of the deal, and you have nothing to lose, really.

“Okay. What’s the address?”

In the middle of the day a week later, you find yourself in front of a big two-story house. It’s nice, looks pretty expensive but… like a regular house? It’s painted white and definitely not blood-red or even black. Aligning more with your expectations is how the house is partially obscured from the road by huge, towering spruces and how it seems to lie just a little bit further from the neighboring houses. There’s a thin layer of snow on the ground now, but you’re not sure whether it’ll stick.

After confirming that no, there is no door bell, you lift your fist to knock on the door. Vampires have crazy good hearing anyway, right? You’d assume so, given the fact that they’re always portrayed as super fast, super strong, super… attractive, and with super hearing, super vision, just… super all around. The mythical creatures don’t officially exist to the world, but in your little town, everyone knows they do. And they do. You found one. So if they drink blood and are super attractive—at least this one—it’s not too weird to assume there’s more truth to their pop-culture portrayal. 

You can see how the town’s vampire believers and enthusiasts shake their heads in disappointment at your relative indifference, but truth be told, you’d probably be more curious about the vampire whose home you’re about to step into if the situation was different. Or maybe you’d have some self-preservation and run the other way?

The door opens almost soundlessly, and when you look up, you meet those black, bottomless eyes. It really is his color, you think, your gaze drawn to the short-sleeve, black button-down he’s wearing, the top three buttons or so left undone. With it, he’s wearing black pants on the looser side. He looks incredibly handsome, and very effortlessly so. His hair is shiny and looks soft, and like it naturally falls into that slight side-part.

“Are you gonna come in or just stand there and ogle me?” He isn’t smiling teasingly; he just looks at you, unimpressed.

“Sorry.” 

He turns to retreat back into the house, and you’re left to enter through the open door. There are no lights on inside, and when you close the door behind you, cutting off a majority of the daylight, you start to feel like you’re truly inside a vampire’s home. Still, it’s light enough for you to follow said vampire’s back after hastily removing your coat and folding it to leave over the boots you step out of. Since you assumed he needs access to the veins in your arms, you picked out a gray t-shirt and a black zip-up hoodie that’s a little too big on you, paired with jeans. Nothing fancy—you’re not there to impress him.

With quickened steps, you catch up to him as he wordlessly leads the way into his kitchen, a place you doubt he uses much. Vampires don’t actually eat, do they? Either way, the room is clean and feels almost... sterile, despite the walnut cupboards and dark gray countertops.

On the short end of a wide, matching walnut dining table, a bunch of supplies are laid out. He gestures to one of the two chairs positioned around the corner of the table, but as you sit down, he turns to leave.

“Uhm, I don’t know how to do this,” you admit, pulling the zipper of your hoodie down and slipping one arm out. “I mean, I’m sure it can’t be that complicated in… theory, but I don’t think I can do it on myself.”

“I’m just gonna wash my hands,” he explains, and there seems to be a very slight trace of emotion in his voice and on his face that you interpret as amusement. He thinks you're dumb.

Oh. Well… does it really matter if his hands are squeaky clean or not?

Water hits the sink with a familiar sound as you focus on the table, inspecting the supplies. There’s a needle with a tube attached to it, a tourniquet, some syringes, antiseptic wipes, and a few empty blood bags. A voice in your head wonders if maybe he changed his mind and will simply take everything at this moment because those bags look pretty big, and you’re not sure you can fill them and still walk out of this place. 

The water stops, and you sit pretty and wait until he positions the other chair in front of you, a little to the side. You’ve never been a fan of needles or having your blood drawn, so you focus your eyes the other way, to a specific part of his kitchen window and the overcast outside. You hear the sound of paper and plastic ripping, and you feel his cold fingers place and tighten the tourniquet around your upper arm and feel for your veins before he wipes the area clean.

“Scared of needles?” he teases arrogantly, and you see how he reaches for the sharp object on the table.

“Bodily reaction. I can’t help it,” you explain before holding your breath and waiting for the poke.

It comes soon after; an uncomfortable but not too painful prick. With one hand, he moves some things around on the table, and you try to keep as still as possible, loathing the feeling of a needle jolting around in your vein.

“You’re not curious as to why I know how to do this stuff? Or worried that I don’t?” he wonders, releasing the tourniquet and seemingly fastening the needle to your skin with some tape.

“No. I guess it doesn’t surprise me; blood and vampires seem to go hand in hand.”

He surprises you by letting out a quiet chuckle before placing a red stress ball in your hand. “Squeeze this. I’ll be back to change the bag in a few minutes.”

Nodding, you watch him rise from his chair and leave the room.

Left to your own devices and with the filling blood bag taped to the chair’s armrest by its thin tube, you close your eyes. 

The house is entirely silent, and you have no idea where the vampire went. After he moved the stuff around on the table, you were able to count exactly three blood bags with a printed 450 ml on them. That adds up to somewhere between one and one and half liters and around 30% of your blood volume if you’ve calculated correctly. According to your brief research, a human doesn’t typically survive losing more than 40% of their blood unless given emergency medical attention. You probably won’t feel too great after today, but you most likely won’t die. You think.

Slowly, the minutes start to tick by, but you feel okay so far. You’ve got a good rhythm going for the stress ball, squeezing, holding, releasing. Squeezing, holding, releasing. The silence has your mind wandering.

“You can stop for a bit.”

The vampire’s sudden voice has your eyes flying open. He hadn’t made a single sound, returning to the kitchen. Catching your breath, you nod, keeping the ball still in your hand. You don’t look at the needle in your arm, but you see the bag full of dark red that the vampire sits down and trades for an empty one, attaching the tubes before he fastens them in the same way to the armrest. 

When he’s done, he lifts his hand, and you spot one of his fingertips covered in red. For a split second, he observes it, and then he puts the finger to his tongue. At first, it’s weird to see, and you almost want to tell him that it’s not hygienic to taste other people’s blood. That is before you remember that other people’s blood is what sustains him.

He looks to be assessing something, and suddenly, you’re worried he might not like it.

“B positive," he focuses on you, but you give him a slight, confused shrug because you have no idea what blood type you are or what it means in this context. 

“Is that… okay?”

“It’s… meh. Not the most common but also not the rarest. Most of my kind prefer A or even AB, though.”

“Oh."

Of course, your blood is substandard. You nod toward the filled bag on the table. “Will you have any use for this then?”

Truly, it would be just your luck to not even have the scary creatures, who roam the night in search of victims to drain, want your blood.

“Yeah. Doesn’t matter. I can always use it as a backup if I don’t get the chance to feed in time. Squeeze.”

Per his order, you resume squeezing. The rest of the process goes relatively smoothly, although you’ve started feeling a lot… weaker by the time the second bag is full and the vampire is about to switch it for the third. 

There’s a lot about blood and the human body that you don’t know, and you’re silently wondering what the recovery rate is and if you can really give him this much every week. Does he plan on taking less next time or has he not taken it into consideration?

“Why do you want to die?”

You blink at his bluntness, looking at his uncaring face. He obviously doesn’t care to hear the longer story, and you don’t care to tell it, so you settle for a shorter, more condensed version.

“There’s something wrong with me. I don’t belong here.”

“Didn’t taste like it.”

“Maybe not physically.”

He doesn’t dig further, but when your blood starts trickling into the third bag, the vampire stays seated. You still close your eyes, afraid that you’ll stare at his face otherwise, and he didn’t particularly seem to like that. 

You’re not sure if it’s just the blood loss or a combination of having slept poorly for the last few weeks and being in a calm, silent environment, but you’re feeling tired. Really tired. And cold. 

“Squeeze harder,” his voice instructs, void of emotion. You do your best to follow his instructions, squeezing the ball tighter even though it’s getting difficult.

“We’re done.”

You open your eyes, finding the vampire much closer than before and his fingers swiftly removing the needle from your arm.

“Okay, so… uh…” you start, finding it hard to choose words or even think of what you want to convey in the first place. “Do I come back… same time… next week?” 

“No. Make it two weeks.”

You look at him, confusion written across your features, but it’s hard to focus your eyes on his face. It’s blurry, and there are dark spots infiltrating your vision.

“I took as much as I could, and while you won’t have time to replenish everything in two weeks either, I’ll at least get more out of you than in just one week.”

He smiles, and if you had the energy and maybe (mostly) the common sense, you’d be scared by the way he truly looks so wicked. 

“Okay. I’ll see you then.”

The vampire takes the stress ball from you and rises from the chair with the used supplies in his hands. You grip the armrests best you can, but your right hand slips, and you stumble a little, trying to stand. It’s so incredibly cold, and you feel dizzy, nauseous, and weak, putting your hoodie back on properly.

Very quietly, you hear him move around the kitchen, and while he hasn’t explicitly told you to leave, you’re very much assuming he wants nothing else. So on unsteady legs, you make your way back to the front door, where you grab your coat to haphazardly put it on, and you step into your boots, unable to bend down to tie them properly.

You’re able to make it to your old but trustworthy car that you parked on the street, but when you sit down in the driver’s seat and close the door behind you, you realize that you definitely can’t drive as it’s proving more and more difficult to even keep your eyes open. You can’t walk home, you have no one to come pick you up, and even if there probably is a bus stop somewhere around here, you don’t think you’d make it there. 

So with your last burst of energy, you pull the lever under the seat to push it back a little, leaving your boots on the floor as you bring your feet and knees up. Your coat finds a new purpose as a makeshift blanket, and you cover as much of your body as you can with it. Fully knowing that as you close your eyes, you might never open them again, you don’t care that much. Dying is what you want, anyway.

Surprisingly, you do open your eyes again. It’s dark when you do, and it’s so, so cold. Your heart is beating hard as it tries to circulate blood that just isn’t there anymore, and it’s with a low groan that you move, trying to reach for the phone in the pocket of your coat.

It’s seven p.m.. You met with the vampire at two p.m., and the visit took less than an hour, which means that you got into your car at maybe a bit before three, and so you’ve been passed out for four hours. It takes you a while to come to properly, and even when you do, you feel weak, groggy, and stiff. Ideally, you shouldn’t drive, but you have no other means of getting home, so you decide on a route consisting of smaller roads with lower speed limits and less traffic.

It’s no wonder you feel like you’re on death’s doorstep because when you do some further Googling on blood donation and blood volumes at home, you calculate exactly how much someone of your size would have. And you find that the vampire took 38% of that.

Three weeks later, you’re knocking on his door again. He opens it, an eyebrow raised and looking even more unimpressed than last time. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t show last week, but I was sick,” you inform, hoping he’ll accept your apology. “Didn’t think you would’ve wanted to see… that.”

“You’re right.”

That’s all he says before he turns, leaving the door open for you just like last time. Well, you take that as a sign that you’re forgiven, and so you follow him inside. 

Trying to keep up with him, you’re feeling even smaller and weaker around the tall vampire than before, and truth be told, you are. Because according to those Google searches, while it takes the body only approximately 24-48 hours to replace the blood plasma, it takes four to six weeks to replenish the red blood cells and recover fully. And that’s from having one bag of 450ml donated; you left three and it’s only been three weeks since. Essentially, the vampire is taking your blood a lot faster than you can produce it.

Like last time, you sit down on the same chair in his kitchen, but since he wasn’t expecting you, he has to retrieve the supplies from elsewhere. You remain quiet while he organizes everything, stealing a few glances at him in the meantime. This time, he’s wearing a black t-shirt and black shorts, and you’re amazed at just how… ordinary he looks. In the best way possible, of course. 

Without being too tight, the shirt does a very good job at showing off his physique: it hangs wonderfully off his shoulders and dips slightly between his pecs. It exposes the prominent veins stretching across both his arms and hands, and you wonder if vampires also ‘live’ in the way that he has a heart that pumps blood around his body. Or if he’s really ‘dead’ or ‘undead’ like some media describe them?

“What?” he questions, having caught you staring.

“You look very human,” you say quietly. “Like a college guy.”

An athletic college guy. The one who’s just a little too handsome to be exact.

The trace of amusement that flashes across his face is so faint that you’re not sure you didn’t simply imagine it. He doesn’t respond to your observation, only sitting down and reaching for your arm. His large hands feel a little warmer against your skin than you remember them doing last time, and you turn your head when he prepares the needle. There’s a pinch and then the immediate relief when he loosens the tourniquet.

“Here,” the red stress ball is placed into your hand again. Looking down briefly, you watch your own hand squeeze it, but the red fluid flowing through the transparent tube is too off-putting, and so you close your eyes again.

A minute or so passes while you keep squeezing the ball to some sort of rhythm tied to your breaths. It won’t be long. Soon, everything will be over. 

Somewhere, you lose track of time, and to regain some sense of reality, you flutter your eyelids open. Only to see the vampire stare coldly at you. You freeze.

“I thought you left,” you admit, the surprise clear in your voice.

“I’m keeping an eye on you,” he explains, face still stoic.

You look at him dumbly. “No offense, but why? The point is to kill me, anyway?”

“No, it’s to take as much as possible,” he corrects you. “To a reasonable extent. And then kill you. Here, let me change the bag.”

You close your eyes once more as he switches the full bag to a new, empty one. The dizziness comes a lot quicker than it did three weeks ago, but then again, you’ve been feeling more or less weak and faint ever since that first donation.

“Okay, we’re done.”

You look at him, surprised. “Already? But you didn’t even fill the second bag fully?”

“I took too much last time, and like I said, I want to get as much out of you as possible.”

For the first time, you think you see a hint of a discreet fang when he gives you a blood-chilling smile.

The process of removing everything is quick, and before you know it, you’re putting your feet into your boots again. You feel faint, like your knees might buckle under you any second, but you don’t feel weak to the point of passing out for hours in your car; you do that when you’re home in bed instead.

Suffering from what you gather is immense anemia, you don’t have the energy to really do anything between your visits to the vampire besides lie on the couch and watch TV. You quit your retail job the Monday after finding him in that alleyway, confident (and correctly so) that you wouldn’t be able to handle really any job at all. 

Even rotting away on the couch with your eyes glued to the screen, you can barely understand what the shows are about. Your brain struggles to place the people and remember the plot lines, and you find yourself almost daydreaming instead. Though it’s mostly just flashing images of the vampire whose name you still don’t know.

If your heart wasn’t already so strained, it would beat harder for him in some kind of fear-filled attraction. He’s absolutely gorgeous—and there’s definitely something almost drawing you to him—but he’s also so, so intimidating. If the end goal wasn’t to die, you’d for sure be running for the hills and looking over your shoulder late at night.

Next time, there’s a slight smile pulling on the vampire’s lips when he opens the door.

“Still alive?”

You chuckle quietly, looking down at your boots. “Unfortunately.”

Taking off your coat reveals another simple outfit with no other purpose than granting the vampire access to your arms while keeping your freezing body warm. This time, it’s a thick, brown cardigan over a t-shirt, paired with somewhat baggy jeans.

The contrast between your clothes is almost funny. Even indoors, you’d be freezing in the half-open thin, white dress shirt he wears messily tucked into black, also thin-looking slacks. The gap in his shirt makes you want to reach out and touch his pale chest, but of course, you keep your hands to yourself.

Once again, you follow him inside, and while you don’t need him to, he guides you to the same spot in his kitchen where the stuff is all laid out. 

Sitting down, you slip your arm out of the cardigan and place it on the armrest. The vampire washes his hands and then comes to sit down in front of you, reaching for the tourniquet to position it around your bicep. With the elastic band tightened, he rips open an antiseptic wipe to clean the inside of your elbow, and then, he prepares the needle like always. 

You look away, holding your breath until the pinch comes and for a few seconds after. 

“The whole thing about vampires losing control around blood… I take it that’s just storytelling?”

“Depends,” he answers, and despite not looking at him, you just know he’s got one eyebrow raised and a hint of a cocky smile on his lips. “If we’re hungry and someone happens to bleed around us, yeah, it can be more… tempting. Also depends on what sort of blood we prefer.”

“And you don’t like mine,” you state, your foggy brain concluding it the reason he seems to not care about the vulnerable blood right in front of him.

He laughs this time, a really nice sound that has your strained heart almost skipping an important beat. “I changed my weekly feeding to Thursdays, so I’m still quite full. And your blood isn’t vile, it’s just not what I personally go crazy for.”

“Oh,” you let out, looking at him before something dawns on you. “Wait. You eat once a week only? How much do you eat then? Or… drink?”

He nods toward the bag he just secured to your arm. “Someone of my size typically only needs about two of these a week to survive and not maniacally hunt and kill, but to really thrive? Between two and three liters, so four to six bags. I usually go hunting Friday or Saturday night when most bars and pubs are full. It’s surprisingly easy to find a few drunks stumbling around who won’t even realize what happened the day after.”

“So you don’t… kill?”

“Not if we can help it. There’s been… an increase in vampires around here, and if people drop dead? No, it’s less suspicious and only a little more work to find a few victims instead of draining one dry.”

“Makes sense.”

“Mhm. I typically don’t have to beg women to come with me, either.”

Something ice cold travels through your body at that last sentence. You wonder whose blood was on his lips that night when you found him.

“I can’t believe you’re telling me this, though? You seem like you’d tell me to mind my own business.”

Even more, you can’t believe you asked.

He smiles. “I don’t know. Like I said, people will occasionally find out what I am, find me fascinating, and ask a thousand questions. I’ve always thought it to be incredibly annoying, and I’m not really supposed to tell them anything even if I wanted to—which I don’t—but it’s been… odd, not being questioned by you. At all. Almost boring, like I’m not interesting to you.”

His answer surprises you, and for a moment, you imagine teenage you, not bubbly per se but at least a bit more naive than the current version. Would she be the type to annoy him? You don’t think so. 

“Objectively, you are interesting, but I can’t believe how brave people are? If things were different, I wouldn’t have gone out looking for a vampire in the first place. And if I somehow stumbled upon you, I would’ve run the other way because you’d terrify me.”

Slowly, he smirks at your honesty. 

“I scare you?” 

You’d be lying if you claimed the cold, calculating aura around him didn’t.

You’re not sure if he has any super powers like in the movies, but honestly, he wouldn’t need to be able to lift a bus to kill you. The scariest thing about him isn’t how he could end your life in a hundred different ways either way, it’s how he could drag it out and extend your suffering before doing so. Of course, your body and instincts find him scary, but in a way, your mind… doesn’t? Then again, you’re here because your mind wants him to kill you.

“I don’t know.”

“Hm,” is all he says, his eyes falling to the blood bag. “I have to change it. Hold on.”

“Okay,” you mumble, finding it hard to concentrate. Your heart beats so hard it hurts, but at the same time, your breathing is slowing down. Closing your eyes, you feel him move stuff around.

“How are you feeling?” he suddenly asks, but it doesn’t sound like he cares too much.

“Honestly? Terrible,” you admit, keeping your eyes closed. 

You keep still when you feel his hands on your arm, but then you hear a little… rip.

“Fuck.”

Curiously, you open your tired eyes, seeing the vampire hold the empty bag up to inspect it. 

“This was the last one I had. This brand is fucking terrible quality; how do you make blood bags so weak they rip?”

“You don’t have anything else to collect it in?”

He sighs defeatedly, “No, it needs to be in these kinds of bags so I can store and freeze it properly.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I’ll have to stock up on them and maybe take more next time.”

You nod slowly and understandingly. That will probably be the last time, then.

About a week and a half later, you find yourself on a bench downtown, your hands in the pockets of your coat to keep them warm. It’s Saturday, and on the other side of the street, a few people are standing in line to be let inside your town’s best version of a nightclub. You’re not certain what exactly brought you here, and you’re sure that if the happy, club-dressed people took the time to observe their surroundings, they’d notice you staring and look at you weirdly in turn.

“Hello?”

Registering the almost rude-sounding voice, you blink as you turn your head. It’s a guy. 

“Huh?”

His face looks skeptic, and he’s got his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. He’s not wearing a jacket or coat of any kind over his white t-shirt, so you gather he’s in the middle of a night out. Probably left a bar for a smoke and spotted you.

“I asked you what your name is? Like three times?”

He’s good looking with black hair and dark eyes, but the tone of his voice is very unattractive, and you have no interest in him whatsoever, knowing he isn’t just looking to be your friend.

“Oh. Uh…”

You don’t say it. It’s not that you don’t remember your name or that you’re making a conscious effort to deny him the information, but it’s like your thoughts are at a standstill. 

“Beat it.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. His lips didn’t move.

“And who are you?” he asks, irritation dripping from his words, and this time, his lips are moving. However, his eyes are not on you but on something behind you.

Just as you’re about to turn around, the man in front of you leaves. His steps are quick, his mission abandoned.

“What are you doing here?”

Of course. It clicks the moment the vampire comes into view, and you’re surprised you didn’t immediately recognize his deep voice. He’s wearing that same leather jacket and some black pants, an outfit still very much inappropriate for winter. Though, something about him feels… wilder, almost a little uncontained? You can’t put your finger on what exactly.

“Uh, people-watching,” you inform as he rounds the bench, sitting down next to you.

Because he’s beautiful like no other, you glance discreetly at his face. He’s so masculine, but in certain lights, you glimpse something softer. You particularly like his nose and its rounded tip. It gives him such an attractive profile, you think, gaze traveling over his features and lingering on his dark eyelashes.

“Why? Isn’t it cold as hell for you?”

“Uhm, I don’t know? And I guess?”

From looking straight ahead, he turns his head, redirecting his full attention to you. The light from the closest street lamp reflects in his dark eyes.

“Is there any truth to that whole ‘vampires are designed to lure humans in’ thing?”

He grins. “I lure you in?”

“You’re more intimidating than you are attractive, actually,” you admit earnestly, wincing a little on the inside at how it came out a bit like an insult. He’s definitely attractive, and maybe the fact that he is so attractive is part of why he’s also so intimidating. “I’m just wondering what you looked like before.”

“I’ve always looked like this,” he explains casually, once again peering out over the cold, dark street. “Vampirism doesn’t change anything besides, like, skin impurities and conditions. I would’ve shown you a picture, but there were no cameras around when I was human,” he smiles cheekily.

“Anyway, you should go home. It’s really cold and not really safe at this time either,” he encourages.

You nod, realizing that he wants to protect his backup supply. “Yeah.”

“Good. I’ll see you next week.”

“Mhm.”

You expect him to get up and leave, confused when five seconds pass and he hasn’t moved. The feeling seems to be mutual because he turns his head to look at you again.

“So, are you leaving or not?”

“I am.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

You look away, clearing your throat a bit awkwardly and realizing that you might just have to tell him, since he doesn’t seem to be leaving before you. “I don’t think I… can. I walked here, but I think I overestimated myself.”

The vampire looks you over briefly, probably just to be sure, but you both know that your main health concerns aren’t visible. 

“Where do you live?”

“Oh, not that far. Like less than a ten minute walk, but I…”

“What’s your address?”

“124 Conch Street.”

“Stand up.”

“What?”

“Stand up.”

Puzzled, you follow his instructions and slowly rise to your feet. Though you’ve been sitting stranded on the bench for almost two hours, the dizziness returns the moment you stand.

But the vampire isn’t satisfied. “Get up on the bench and undo your coat up to your waist.”

This time, you give him a skeptic look.

“Just do as I say,” he holds his hand out for you.

Slowly and still confused, you take it, and with his aid, you step up onto the bench.

To your surprise, he lets go, and before you know it, he’s unzipped your coat from the bottom up to your waist, positioned himself in front of you, and grabbed your thighs. Instinctively, you place your arms around his neck as he hoists you onto his back and starts walking.

“What are you doing?” you breathe quietly.

“Taking you home in an inconspicuous way. It looks like we’re a couple, does it not?”

“Definitely an odd and unexpected couple if so, but I guess?”

“You’re a pretty girl, you know?”

Your lungs hold your breath for an extra second before slowly releasing it, and then you hum, but it’s only to actually provide him with an answer. You definitely don’t think you’re anywhere near pretty enough for someone like him. He doesn’t call you out on your vague answer.

You’re not the most common sight, couple or not, and people still watch you as you pass them. Unsure as to how to meet their curious gazes, you don’t; turning your head forward instead. When you’re so close, you inevitably catch his scent, only to find that he doesn’t smell like a whole lot. There are traces of soap, laundry detergent, and maybe a hint of cologne, but not much else. No lingering smell of sweat or anything like that.

He walks you through the city and past the alleyway where you first found him. It’s quiet, except for the muted sound of his footsteps as well as those of a man a bit ahead, evidently hurrying to get home and away from the cold.

“Are there more vampires here?” you wonder, looking around the silent street and thinking it might not be as empty as it seems. 

“Yes,” he confirms casually.

It has your brain working, and the surroundings reminding you of why you’re with him in the first place.

“How are you going to kill me?”

If he’s caught off guard by your straightforward question, he does a good job of not showing it. 

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. But I’d rather not bleed out,” you say, body aching at the mere thought. Although you’re certain there are much worse ways to go, you really don’t like the feeling of severe blood loss.

“It’s the easiest way though,” he explains. “It’s not as easy to drain a body without a heartbeat to move the blood around.”

“Are you familiar with livestock?” you ask, thinking back to what your three-year-older cousin once told you as you biked past a field of cows one summer when you were ten. “You can kill the animal and then ‘deblood’ them by hanging the body upside down and cutting their throat. The blood will drain easily. Do you have a bathtub?”

“You’re… a person though, still,” he says, and though he doesn’t falter in his steps, you can tell your words don’t sit quite right with him. “There’s no dignity in an ending like that. And don’t you care what happens to your body?”

To say you’re surprised is an understatement. You thought vampires were all bloodthirsty monsters, only biding their time until they can rip someone new apart. The messier, the better. The vampire, who’s carrying you on his back, made no effort to appear nice either. At least not at first. Now, you don’t even know.

You shrug slightly. You’re not a spiritual person, and you’ve never believed in something like an afterlife. “It’s just meat and bones. I won’t be here anymore, and no one’s going to be looking for me, anyway. There’s no use in keeping things ‘pretty.’”

He doesn’t say anything in turn, and you wonder how much about you he knows. How much about your life he realizes.

The vampire’s smooth movement lulls you further into relaxation, and you lean your head partly against your own arm, partly against him. He doesn’t say anything.

Way sooner than if you would’ve walked with your own two legs—if you would’ve made it home at all—he puts you down in front of your apartment complex. You search your pockets, locating your keys in the left one. 

“Going home now? Since you can’t enter without permission,” you joke tiredly, unlocking the front entrance with the key fob. 

The vampire raises his eyebrows. “I might as well make sure you don’t somehow trip and spill all my blood on the way to your apartment,” he smirks, grabbing the door and opening it wide without breaking eye contact. “And you shouldn’t believe everything you see or read.”

The smile he’s wearing as he makes a show out of stepping inside the building is another chilling one. You can’t say that you expected him to hit an invisible wall or anything, but for some reason, it would’ve almost felt… nice if that were the case. Considering your situation, you’re not sure why. 

The elevator is empty and waiting for you, and after getting inside, you press the button for floor two, the vampire coming to stand beside you.

“Is there anything that is true regarding vampires?” you ask quietly as if someone would hear you inside the elevator.

“Besides the fact that we drink blood?”

“Yeah. Are you like, immortal and stuff? Super old?”

He chuckles. “Kinda. I don’t think anything’s truly immortal, but we do have a longer life span, yes.”

“What about senses? Can you hear my heart beat right now?”

“Yes. It sounds like it’s about to burst through your chest.”

Yeah, because it’s strained to hell and back, trying to keep you alive even in the condition you’re in.

“And super speed, super strength and all that?”

“Mhm, although we’re not so fast we go blurry. Are you impressed?”

“I don’t know? What do you use it for? I can’t think of even one thing having those powers would improve in my life.”

“Tough crowd,” he chuckles, avoiding your question as he follows you out of the elevator. 

You understand that being physically superior is helpful when you’re a literal predator, and yeah, maybe being able to walk a tiny bit faster to work every morning would’ve saved you some time, but what else? Oh, yeah, one time, you had to throw away a jar of pickles because you simply could not get it open. Being stronger would’ve definitely helped you then. 

Reaching your door, you’re quick to unlock it and pull it open to head inside, ignoring the two envelopes lying on the floor in your hallway. The vampire stays at the door, watching as you start to remove your coat two or so steps away from him.

“Are those… bruises?”

Turning your head as you make your way to the wardrobe to put the coat away, you see the vampire looking almost worried. You look down at the skin on your arms. 

“Yeah.”

“Let me look at them,” he urges, holding his hand out.

“Why? They come with anemia; why does it matter?”

“Still, I want to see. Come over here.”

Despite looking oddly insistent, he makes no effort to actually enter your apartment.

Your eyes widen as you look at him. “You really can’t come inside without an invitation, can you?”

He sighs exasperatedly. “Technically, no, I can’t step inside unless you give me permission.”

It makes you laugh a little in wonder. “Wow.”

He rolls his eyes, but you can tell it amuses him a little too.

“Listen, I’ll be fine until we meet again and if the bruises are still there, you can look at them then. I kinda don’t actually want to invite you in, is that rude of me?”

“No, it’s not. Very reasonable, actually.”

“Okay, then I’ll see you Friday?”

He nods politely and steps back. “See you.”

You watch him leave, his footsteps sounding through the hall as you bend down to pick up the envelopes you’ve been ignoring for days. They’re probably bills, and you’ll be dead soon, so who really cares if you pay them or not?

Mindlessly, you approach the door to close it, your focus on the white paper in your hands. You put your finger under the fold to rip the first envelope open, wincing when the paper cuts through your skin instead.

Holding your finger up, you inspect the damage and the little bead of red that’s forming next to the invisible cut. You look at it, furrowing your eyebrows at how you feel like something’s… missing? A moment later, you realize what it is, and your body freezes. 

The footsteps have stopped.

It dawns on you, as you look at the blood, what the vampire was actually doing tonight and why he looked wilder than usual. Early Saturday night, lurking around the clubs until he found you and had to abandon his plans. 

He was hunting.

Your eyes widen and your heart stops as you hear it. One footstep. Then another. And another. They’re speeding up, and soon enough running toward you.

Before you’ve had a chance to shut the door, it flies wide open. Panicked, you move farther into the apartment, but you fall backward and by pure instinct, crawl back as quickly as you can.

Despite claiming that he couldn’t enter without your permission, the vampire falls to his knees, then all fours, to reach you. You’ve never seen anything as scary as the bloodthirsty creature grasping the air, trying to get you. He moves so quickly, and his hand is just about to grab your foot when it’s like… he’s held back by something. 

You're breathing heavily, trying to understand what’s happening. Why doesn’t he just move another three centimeters? He licks his lips in frustration, exposing fangs that are definitely longer than you remember. Meeting his eyes, they’re cold like never before, and he exhales angrily. He’s still reaching for you, and frozen in your spot, you look over at him, briefly wondering if his feet got stuck or something when it hits you.

He can’t step inside.

You sit there, your feet mere centimeters from his grasping hand when there’s a sound down the hall, and in a split second, the vampire seems to snap out of it. He looks at you, appearing to realize what he’s doing and somehow gaining control over himself. Looking around, he gets up, and he leaves. Quickly and without a word.

Wide-eyed and with your heart beating painfully, you remain on the floor, wondering what the hell just happened. Even when his footsteps are long gone, you’re too afraid to get up and close the door, worried that he’ll return and be able to reach you. 

You’d like a very serious word with whoever established the ‘no entering without permission’ rule but also decided that the vampires could cheat it by keeping their feet outside and crawling inside.

You sleep a little uneasy the following nights, thinking a lot. Of course, your thoughts are mostly occupied by those cold, black eyes, thirsty for your blood.

<previous | next> happy halloween <3<3

redemption | jeon jungkook

part two of stoic

➛ pairing(s): ex-husband!jungkook x reader

➛ genre(s): angst, smut, exes au

➛ summary: it’s been years since you and jungkook got a divorce and separated, and you’re both suffering in your individual ways. jungkook, still dealing with the consequences of his selfish and heartless actions, and you? you must tackle life as a single mother…

➛ warning(s): swearing, mentions of infidelity and untrustworthiness, mentions of divorce, jungkook gets his karma and reader is much more cautious now, special guest star namjoon, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, fingering, oral (fem. receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, rough sex, crying during sex, breast and nipple play, creampie, squirting 

➛ word count: 6,830 words

➛ author’s note: after such high demand, a second part has been made and this will be the final one. hope you all enjoy <3

masterlist

Keep reading

to build a home | chapter seven

Pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

Genre: strangers to lovers. angst. loads of plot. fluff. smut.

Word count: 13k (if u saw the post where i promised this one wouldn’t be 10k like the last one, no u didn’t 🤫)

Warnings: oral sex (m & f), deepthroating (did i say pj jk? my bad, i meant bj jk 😌), soft!dom jk, sub oc, fingering, everything is v wet, v graphic, dirty talk, protected penetrative sex, lil bit of cockwarming, they’re so smitten w each other through it all, loads of kissing <3, loads of lovin’, lil bit of angst but it has a happy ending, so much fluff, they’re so domestic, JUNGKOOK IS A DREAM, oc has 0 filter, shirtless jimin making coffee?, i think that’s it <3

Author’s note: i truly hope u enjoy this one <33 sorry for making it so long i got carried away and also!!! this is what happens when y’all put the image of dilf jk in those see through pyjamas in my mind and send me audio porn, ok? i go crazy!! i love u guys, sm. thank u for the love always!! i’m sending it right back paired w a million kisses ur way, as per usual. <3333 xxxxx

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Texts in bold + italic resemble a recollection of past events.

Chapter Seven

“Tap into your awareness. Take a deep breath, feel the warm light spread all through your body – a golden hue that starts at the top of your head all the way to the tip of your toes. Bask in it, welcome the peace into every inch of your temple. Feel it in your core, that warm light – that tingle-”

You bring your steps to an abrupt halt.

“Bro, really?” You stare at your screen in disbelief, as if the sweet voice that was attempting to coax you into a peaceful headspace would apologize for how oddly arousing you found her meditative practice.

You pull at the string of your headphones, with more force than necessary for, you know, emphasis – shortly followed by a groan, all powered by frustration.

The worst kind of frustration there is.

“You know what I do when I’m really horny?” Lucy’s question snaps you out of your sulking.

You stay quiet for a couple of seconds, debating whether you want to know the answer to that or not. Today had been stressful enough – a long, slow Monday that had marked the highest temperatures the Summer had seen. A historical heatwave, they called it. Though your heat came less from the fact that the Earth is so polluted it reaches the 40s and more from your activities the day prior.

You decide to venture into her potential advice. “Tell me, Senpai.”

“I have sex with Jimin.” She simply shrugs, voice relaxed as she takes another lick of her strawberry iced lolly. You wince at how lewd she makes it look.

“You had sex for the first time like- yesterday.”

“Wrong. I made love for the first time two weeks ago.”

“My bad, Aphrodite.”

“You’re just bitter because I’ve had sex in your boyfriend’s house and you haven’t.” Her smile is roguish and you can’t help but return it, consequently shoving a pillow her way.

“You’re so bad. So, so bad.”

“The mattress had great elasticity, by the way. Like crazy comfortable. Like- oh! Duh. Like a hotel bed!”

You groan, throwing your head back in frustration. “I don’t know what hurts the most – the fact that I want to know how comfortable his mattress is or that… he’s not my boyfriend. He’s not my boyfriend and therefore we have to take it slow. We have to be good, Lucy. We can’t let another playroom gate unfold.”

“I think playroom gate was totally healthy.”

That’s her new thing, preaching about the importance of a healthy sex life.

“Fuck, I know. I didn’t even know sex could feel like that. And we didn’t even go all the way.” Your breathing starts picking up, chest heaving slightly at the sole memory.

“Okay, okay. I’ll give you actual good advice. From a former virgin to a newly rebirthed one-” you narrow your eyes at her, another pillow ready to swing in her direction. She just giggles. “Meditate.”

“Meditate?”

“Yup. It really helps you relax and focus on the now. Consciousness and all that.”

“I am consciously horny. Now.”

She laughs. “Where’s Herbie?”

Herbie, also known as your vibrator.

“I don’t want Herbie!” You throw your hands up in defeat, sighing as they come down.

You’re fully throwing a tantrum, you’re aware. But you can’t help the tension that builds all through you. The way something in your lower belly drops like quickfire when you all but think about his face – his hooded eyes, glassy over how on edge he was. The red of his lips. The mess you’d made of his hair from running your hands through it, tugging whenever he had your hips bucking and your legs closing around his big, strong ones.

Here we go again.

Another groan.

Lucy gets serious all of a sudden, straightening up in her place on the couch. “Well, ___, then you’re gonna have to revaluate this whole taking it slow. Or, I don’t know, get on your knees and pray. Maybe he'll show mercy and, you know, whilst you’re at it...”

Meditation sucks.

Okay, you’re being dense.

Meditation as to treat sexual frustration sucks. Yet you keep gravitating towards it because for one, you already paid for the overpriced app subscription and two, it’s good white noise. It’s your third day in this torturous journey to tuning into your higher self who, presumably, is less horny and more collected. A true being of light. You decide to complement your spiritual practices with a nice walk – making sure to get out of the bus a few stops prior so you can collect yourself with the aid of some movement and fresh air until you have to come face to face with the very root of your distress.

You smile. That’s all it takes, really. One brief second of him crossing your mind. Fuck welcoming peace. Jeon Jungkook is so much better.

You pick up your pace, your whole demeanour giddying up at the fact that it’s only approximately twenty minutes until you see him again. Him and Soori, hand in hand as she practices her walking – big round eyes and puffy cheeks coming up to greet you, her little button nose scrunching up in excitement. Her expressions are a carbon copy of her father’s, whose face takes on the same motions at the sight of you.

When you finally make it to his front door, you can feel the excitement settling in your chest. It makes you think about how lucky you are – to be able to come to them.

You ring the doorbell and wait for a minute, smile adorning your face as you hear the door unlock from the inside as it begins to swing open. You take a step forwards, voice ready to chirp out your usual greeting for Mrs. Chae.

The words are caught in your throat as the door comes to an open and you’re met with Jungkook, a bright smile on his face as he holds Soori in his arms, her smile growing so wide it makes her pacifier slip from between her mouth.

All of it is unexpected – from having him open the door for you, to seeing him first thing in the morning and taking in his enthusiasm.

Jungkook is halfway out the door, free arm outstretched, ready to welcome you in it.

“What are you wearing?” Your words make him stop dead in his tracks, confused.

You just stare at him, unabashedly scanning your eyes through his body. He looks fresh out of the shower – hair silky and soft and a soft expression in his face that tells you he’s well rested. He looks good, that’s not it. What’s it is his outfit, if it can even be considered as such. He’s wearing a mesh, see-through olive green set. The short sleeve shirt and pants so sheer they leave little to the imagination as your eyes fall from the dark ink you can make out on his shoulder to his black briefs. The first couple of buttons in his shirt are undone and so is your sanity.

“Wha- oh. My pyjamas? It’s a cozy morning. We’re cozy, you see?” He motions to Soori as he says this and you take in her cute lilac sweatsuit, a soft pair of bunny slippers on her feet as they swing back and forth frantically. She smiles at you, letting you know she wants to be in your arms – almost surprised herself that she gets to see you earlier than usual.

“You sleep like that?”

“No, I don’t. I sleep-” but Jungkook doesn’t finish that sentence, for both of your sakes. “It’s a lounge set, now can you come in?”

You step inside, a chuckle escaping your lips. “A lounge set. That is so presump-” but before you can finish your witty remark, his arm snakes around your waist and his lips collapse against yours in a soft, gentle kiss. “Jung-,” you gasp, “what are you doing? Where’s Mrs. Chae?”

“She’s away. On vacation,” he says, lips still grazing yours. He places one last chaste kiss, smiling a little at the way you pout, still confused. He pecks your cheek before he finally says, “good morning.”

It’s going to be a long, long day.

“Morning,” your voice is a dreamy whisper, chest still flushed to his. Soori taps on your shoulder repeatedly, a bit more forceful than usual as she lets out a little whine, demanding your attention. She’s still getting used to having to share it. “Hi, princess. Good morning. How are you?” You take her from him as she jumps in your arms.

“Ouch,” he brings his hands to his chest dramatically, “so she gets all the morning love?”

“Now I see where she gets it from,” you tease, making him scowl at you. “Good morning, lounge princess.” You coo at him, pinching his cheek.

“Do you not like it?” He says, gaze dropping to take a look at his clothes as if he hadn’t just picked them himself.

You hold back a laugh, but your smile gives your amusement away. “It’s… different. You can rock it, though.”

He pouts. “You’re mean.”

“Naaaa,” Soori says, taking you by surprise.

“Yeah, Soo. Tell daddy.” You walk away as you say this, making your way to the kitchen.

He’s about to protest on your use of the forbidden word but his brain fails him, currently working at a solid 3% of its normal capacity. He opts for engaging in baby talk. That always helps. “Don’t flatter yourself. Everything is Na nowadays. We fall into the same category as the giraffe, the rubber ducky and… whatever’s edible, really.”

“So, are you working from home today?” You ask, strapping Soori in her high chair. Jungkook got a head start on her breakfast already and she waits patiently for it.

“Yeah. I pulled crazy hours yesterday so I told everyone to take it easy today. I still have a bunch of contracts to look through but, no meetings.”

“Ah, explains the fit.” You say, eyes glued to the apple you’re slicing.

He rolls his eyes, but walks towards you nonetheless. “Hey,” he towers you from behind, hands resting at either side of your body on the counter. “I missed you.”

“You saw me yesterday.” You mock nonchalance but he can hear the smile in your voice you hide from him.

“Well, yeah, but- I missed you. Like being able to hug you. And stuff.”

“And stuff,” you mimic, a playful tone to your voice.

“What did you put in your coffee this morning? You’re extra witty today, baby.”

Baby.

He hasn’t called you that since Sunday and your brain can’t grasp just how weak the pet name makes you. How you can physically feel your knees weakening, the way they write in poems and love songs.

Adoration with two pumps of horny, Jungkook. That’s what I put in my coffee.

You turn around, sheepishly smiling at him. His grin widens when he sees the light blush to your cheeks, arms leaving the counter and taking a step back. You miss his proximity already. “Nothing,” you sing-song, “I missed you, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He smirks before his head lowers, his lips on a journey to find yours.

Soori shrieks, pointing at her apple as she lets out her infamous, “Naaa.”

You turn to her and Jungkook takes a step back.

“Sorry, Soo. Coming right up.” You tell her.

You go back to slicing her fruit and Jungkook plates her eggs, cutting them into tiny pieces as he does the same with the toast, lathering some avocado on top.

“Sorry,” he says, avoiding your eyes. “We should probably…,”

“Behave. Whilst, you know, I’m on the clock and everything.” You finish his sentence for him, pressure so evidently swimming in the air, it could cut a diamond.

“Yeah- yes. Also… we should, you know. Take it slow.”

“Yeah,” you agree, voice casual but there’s a strain to it. “Sunday was just… a tiny mishap. Good, but- a mishap.”

“Yes. I mean, I don’t regret it-”

You turn to him, frenzied eyes meeting his. “Neither do I.”

“But we should probably go back to our programmed schedule of… taking it easy. Slow is good.”

“Slow is great.”

“Yeah,”

“Yeah.”

~

Slow is, to put it lightly, hell.

You’ve been tip-toeing around the sexual tension that follows you like a shadow wherever you go – physically and mentally.

Yet, besides the gruelling desire for him that you can’t help but welcome all through your body you can’t really ignore how it doesn’t just stop at that. It’s the closeness you crave – in more than just the physical aspect of your relationship. Or more so, your situationship. That also has your head looping in a frenzied, uncontrollable train of thought.

You can’t shake just how much you enjoyed having him sweep you in his arms and press your lips to his – Soori in his hold, the both of them welcoming you with bright smiles and a sense of home. One that you’ve tried to tame down from inside your chest since the morning. You feel foolish, but it’s inevitable – the way you thought something had drastically shifted inside of him. That he’d changed his mind, not really caring anymore about someone finding out. Not his friends, not Mrs. Chae, not a potential neighbour passing by. It’s a stretch, in all ways fathomable. Because in reality, you know that slow doesn’t stem so much from what people would think when they realize he’s engaging in more than professional affairs with his nanny; but more so from the fact that opening up, to you, to the world, hell – even to himself – is still dreadful to Jungkook.

“Naaa-na?” Soori blabs, shoving a fistful of noodles that overflow from her little hand your way.

“No, baby. Those are noodles.” You tell her, smiling sweetly and leaning your face on your hand as you stare at her.

“Nanana,” she half sings, half states – shaking her head as she gives you that signature bunny smile.

You can feel your heart seizing up in your chest. She looks so much like her dad.

“Hey, bun. You look so much like your daddy when you smile like that.” She just stares at you, giddiness not faltering once as she continues to eat her noodles. “You’re so cute, just like him.”

You gave your heart to Soori far before Jungkook began occupying it, too. She was so easy to love – wide eyed, curious and even though she never lost that easy spirit of hers, you could see how much the situation was affecting her. She would cry, sometimes for long stretches of time, inconsolably sobbing into your shoulder as you rocked her back and forth, attempting to put her down for her nap. Her eyes would tear up and her little body would shake in your arms and the process was exhausting enough to carry its essence throughout the day. At times, Jungkook would walk through the front door, finally back from work, and she would fall into his arms, a new wave of tears threatening to spill from her glassy eyes. She would stare at her dad, quivering chin and tucked bottom lip, as if wondering if he’d leave again in a matter of minutes.

You didn’t realize just how affected she’d been until you overheard Jungkook, Hobi and Kenny that night after the inauguration. The bitterness in his words when he claimed Ira didn’t love Soori enough to stay.

It was then that you grasped it, the severity of the reality she was living through when you stepped into her life. It made you want to do things differently back then. If you’d known, you would’ve been able to understand just why she dreaded being put into her crib during nap time – fighting sleep in your arms until her little body gave in. She couldn’t just be left there, always needing to fall asleep in your arms. She would toss and turn, whining when she saw you walk away. It made sense to you why doorway goodbyes would be filled with tears and how when Jungkook came back, instead of excitement she would feel relief – followed by a new wave of fear he’d leave again.

You stare at her – really look at her. A happy baby. Easy-going, loving and trusting. A peace about her that sometimes startles you when you leave her to play by herself for a couple of minutes and realize she’s awfully quiet; only to find her in her own little world, quietly babbling to herself and her ever-growing family of plushies. She’s got giggles and tickles and shrieks whenever she sees any sort of animal on the tv – real or animated.

She’s good, you think. She healed.

You know her world is small. Her hours seem shorter, days breezing by as she seems to grow up with every passing minute. Yet you can’t help but think how time truly did wonders for her.

Time and love.

You truly hope time is just as good with Jungkook.

Time, and yes – love.

~

By the time it takes you to get Soori cleaned up from lunch and into pyjamas, cozied up and tucked in bed, it’s nearing half past one. Jungkook hasn’t left his office since the morning after breakfast time was done for Soori, which is odd because he always makes sure he’s with her for lunch whenever he’s home – even if it’s just to make her a bottle and put her down for her nap. What’s even more worrying is he hasn’t eaten since either, and with his breakfasts consisting of coffee and whatever nibbles he can get out of Soori’s – it’s even more concerning.

You tidy up the kitchen, scroll through your phone aimlessly and when the clock marks 2 pm you worry enough to make your way to his office, gently knocking on the door in case he’s really submerged in something or on a call of some sort. When a couple of seconds go by and there’s no reply from the other side of the door, your overdramatic brain begins crafting stories of the worst-case scenario.

“Come in,” he says, making you sigh in relief.

You open the door, stepping inside and gently closing it behind you. “I thought you were dead.”

That makes his eyes snap from his computer to you in a millisecond, brow raised and a playful smirk adorning his features. “That’s extreme. Where’s Soori?”

“Napping.” You reply, walking closer to his desk.

“Shit- already? I lost track of time.”

“You have really bad eating habits.” Your voice is monotone, casual.

“I love it when you speak your mind,” he says, tone not entirely sarcastic. His eyes are glued back to the screen of his computer. “Hey, can you help me with something?”

“Me?”

He hesitates for a second, looking up as he says, “yes, you.”

“I don’t know how much I can help with whatever goes on at the other side of this desk but, sure.” You say as you make your way towards him.

“Why’d you say that? You’re very smart.”

His comment flusters you. “Tell me how I can be of service then.”

“I’m writing this speech for a charity event we’re hosting next week and, I don’t know. I feel like it sounds very impersonal. Sort of like- a template. I don’t like it.”

“Ah. Then yes, I can definitely help.”

“Come on, Maya Angelou. Time to shine.” He says, rolling slightly to the side on his big leather chair so you can take a better look at his computer, a half-written speech on the screen.

You lean forwards, hands resting on his desk as you bent some, eyes fixed on the document as you scan through the words, analysing them. He feels slightly exposed. He also feels an intractable impulse to sit you on his lap. Not to necessarily do anything too sinful just – hold you.

He decides to be gentlemanly instead.

“Here, sit down-” he begins, body halfway up as he begins to stand. You just wave your hand at him in dismissal, murmuring a string of no, no’s. You look very focused and Jungkook decides to leave you be, sitting back down on his chair.

From what you can take, it’s a charity event to gather funds for a school for blind and disabled children. It’s heartfelt and compassionate, at times a bit informal even. It makes you smile, thinking about how much it feels like you’re reading a journal entry – written by none other than Jeon Jungkook.

“It’s good. I see what you mean, though, by trying to make it less impersonal. But I don’t think it’s impersonal at all. Whenever you want to transmit feelings whilst keeping your tone formal you do need some certain balance, though. Just so it doesn’t lose the tonality that makes up a speech. So, here- may I?” You say, fingers dancing close to the keyboard.

“Yes, yes. Of course,” he says.

You get to work, giving him pointers, asking him to write the sentence so you can twitch it a bit – expanding his vocabulary with fancy words that only end up making the speech more sincere. Approachable, as you say. By the third paragraph, he’s pretty much got it – having perfected it and added enough for it to be up to his standards.

“Thank you. I’ve never finished writing anything so quick in my life,” he tells you.

“You’re welcome. You should eat something,” you smile at him but it’s in a slightly patronizing way that makes his chest flutter when he realizes you worry about him.

“I will, I just- have to go through this one contract,” he returns.

“I thought you said you told everyone to take it easy today?”

“Yeah, them. Not me. It’s enough of a treat to be able to stay home, though.”

“Is the contract really long?” You’re stalling, not wanting to leave his side just yet.

“Yeah, look.” He places a stack of papers in front of him, bible-thick.

Your eyes widen. “Holy shit.”

He snorts, head thrown back as it turns into laughter. “Yes – holy shit, alright. What’s even worst, look at the tiny font” he says, skimming through the pages.

You gasp, a bit more dramatically than intended. But it doesn’t stop there. “I’m sorry you have to sit through agonizing paperwork,” your voice is sweet and you bring your hand to his head, giving him a soft pat. Or at least that’s the original intention.

He keens into your touch, leaning his head to the side slightly. So, inevitably, you find yourself carding your fingers through his hair – caressing softly. It’s an innocent touch, you know it and Jungkook knows it, too. So, he pushes all impulses aside and gives into it. it’s comforting to say the least and soon enough he’s returning the affection with a harmless touch of his own as he runs his knuckles down the soft skin of your free hand that rests at your side.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice low as he tries to remember exactly what he’s agreeing on.

“Still, you need to… recharge. Fuel and all that. Unwind,” you don’t mean for the last word to resemble a whimper but you can’t really stop it as it leaves you.

“Mhm. Your company helps though,” he says, sweet words matching his sweet face yet highly contrasting to the shadow that casts upon his gaze. Eyes dark with a hint of a glimmer in them.

“T-that’s good. I’m- glad. I can, um, get you something. To eat, I mean. You know, bring it here.” You offer, brain convincing you your voice sounded way more collected than it actually did.

He smiles. “No, that’s alright. Thank you, though.”

He just looks up, staring at you with that side smirk that makes your bones feel like jelly, bringing your hand closer to him as he laces his fingers with yours.

“You’re welcome.”

He simply hums, thumb caressing your hand ever so softly.

Slow. It’s written in both your gazes as your eyes lock with his, only missing them when you blink, a slow motion that makes your eyelids feel heavy with every passing second.

Slow. The same way he pulls you closer. Close enough to step between his legs before you instinctively fall into his touch completely, sitting on his lap.

Slow. Just like your touch as the hand that isn’t still intwined in his cups his cheek, stroking softly – slowly.

Slow. In the way he smiles, face relaxing as he leans into your touch, eyes closing as he basks in the feeling of your hands on his skin.

Slow. Like the words that fall from your lips as you say, “let me take care of you.”

Jungkook sighs, eyes fluttering once, then twice before he nods. Rationality catching up with him way too slowly to deny you.

Your hands snake past the collar of his shirt, eyes locking with his as he shudders under your touch. Your nails scraping lightly at the warm skin on his shoulders before you dig your fingers into the flesh. He tenses for a second before his whole body finally relaxes, melting into the chair as he lets out a faint moan – hand firmly squeezing at your hip before it lands on your ass.

“You know – it’s growing on me,” your fingers dance over his chest, nails brushing softly as they land on his sternum, “your lounge set.”

“Is that why you want to take it off of me?” He asks, raising his brows, a lopsided smirk forming at his lips when he feels your fingers work his buttons undone.

You let out a soft chuckle. “Not necessarily.”

“Hm, fine,” he lets outs a soft whimper when you release the last button, pausing for a second to take in his reaction before your hand travels upwards, running over his toned abdomen. His skin is so tan – so golden, you salivate at the sight. “I’ll believe you.”

His pretty eyes fall shut, lids heavy as his focus fixates on the way your hands feel as they run through his skin – like wood to a fire, only making his own flame burn brighter for you. Hotter. Your hand settles over his chest, right on top of his heart and he’s positive you can feel it beating in your palm as his breathing starts to pick up at the promise of you.

Jungkook’s brain isn’t necessarily going places of where said promise will land. In fact, he didn’t really know what your words entitled when he agreed to them. But it sure as hell shocks him like a punch to the gut when he feels your touch faltering, hand falling lazily on his lower stomach as your movements follow and he immediately misses your proximity. In slight disbelief and disappointment, he opens his eyes, mouth instinctively forming a pout that doesn’t quite see completion when he sees you shifting your weight onto the floor, settling between his open legs. He nearly chokes on his spit, the peaceful trance your touch had him on long lost as you bite your lip, eyes pleading what your words don’t. You’re waiting – that innocent look masking your sinful thoughts as you leave his fate in his own hands.

And once again, Jungkook can’t deny you. Not when you look like that. Not when he’s craved you since the very moment he had his first taste of you – of that one thing he didn’t know he wanted so much. The one thing he dared think rationality could triumph, only to be hit with the realization that whatever magnetic pull draws you to him is bigger than him and all his self-control combined. So, he lets his hand cup your cheek, fingers closing around your jaw, skimming through your skin until his thumb presses on your bottom lip. You never once shift your gaze from him, even when his own travels to your mouth as it parts slightly, enough to let his thumb hook itself between your teeth as your tongue circles around it. His face contorts in pleasure, upper lip tugging up before his teeth pulls his bottom one in.

You lean forward, fingers running teasingly over the waistband of his pants.

He hisses, tummy caving in at the feeling. “Don’t tease,” he warns.

“I’m not. Just going slow,” you say, faux innocence lacing your tone.

His laugh is throaty and it hitches in his chest when he feels your palm close around the outline of his clothed cock. It throbs and thickens in your hold as you squeeze, gripping him firmly, a moan escaping his lips at the sudden contact. The sound lands right in the pit of your stomach and your fingers hook inside the waistband of his pants, tugging his briefs along as you drag them down until they pool around his ankles. His cock jerks as it sits across his pelvis and a deep groan ripples straight out of his chest as your hand wraps around it and your tongue licks a thick strip from base to tip before you’re hollowing your cheeks and sucking frivolously around the head.

“Ngh- fuck, baby. Fuck.” His voice is strained and raspy, hand tangling in your hair as he tugs on it slightly.

He feels even bigger around your mouth than he did in your hand, sitting heavy on your tongue as you rasp for air. Your hand pumps at his shaft, stimulating the places your tongue can’t reach as the tip moves in rapid, controlled movements over his frenulum, making him gasp – the airy little sound lilting at the end, turning into a moan.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches, breaths coming out erratically and his chest heaves as your mouth closes around his cock once again, head picking up pace at the push and pull of your mouth – the back of your throat tempting his tip more and more with every thrust.

“Like that, baby. Fuck. Take it all,” and that’s enough incentive for you to sink your warm mouth all the way in, making his cock pulse as you gag around the head a couple of times before your throat closes around it in swallowing motions. His mouth parts in a silent moan, eyes fighting to stay open as he feels the way your mouth suctions around him, sending him to heaven and back. He’s never seen anything so heavenly take on a lewd act like this – sin in your eyes, and sin in the way you moan in utter pleasure when you finally release his cock from the tight constraints of your throat, gasping for air as thick teardrops fall from your eyes all the way down your pretty face.

His thumb swipes them away. “You’re doing so well, baby. You’re so good, so fucking- mmm,” his praises are interrupted as you wrap your tongue around his tip, circling languidly as your eyes look up at him, pleading him to go on. “Feels so fucking good. You look so pretty with your mouth around my cock, angel.”

You moan, the vibrations making his hips buck and tighten his grip on your hair as you lower yourself on him all the way, repeating that same menacing action, only this time with more intention – determined to have him unravelling under you, milking his cock and taking him impossibly lower as you move your head in sharp little thrusts, accommodating him until your gag reflex is non-existent.

“Shit- don’t stop, don’t stop- you’re gonna make me cum, ___.” His head is thrown back, eyes tightly shut as he bites onto his lip with enough harshness to level him back into the moment, forcing him to look at you again. You’re a fucking sight to behold – that much his head can grasp in its hazy, fucked-out state. It confuses him slightly, how he can feel that tug in his heart whenever your eyes meet his and you hold his gaze, your pretty lips wrapped around his fat cock like the dream that you are. The way it makes his heart rate pick up until he can feel it travel to his stomach, the feeling lacing around the tight knot that forms there as he begins to tip over the edge.

That’s what makes him lose it – the total adoration he feels for you right this moment as you work his cock with your warm, wet tongue, reading him perfectly and complying. Completely surrendered to aiding his pleasure, his responsiveness only adding to yours. That insane need to feel you closer going beyond the physical as your connection deepens and he can feel it. He can see it in your eyes and he has no hints of a doubt you see it in his as you return that same adoration his gaze holds. His cock kicks against your tongue and he hisses out a moan, head falling to the side as he takes you in, mouth agape as that knot snaps inside of him.

“Baby, baby,” he warns, tapping his fingers gently on your cheek. You simply sigh, mouth full of him as you take him impossibly deeper. “Oh fuck. Ffuck- I’m cumming, I’m-”

You can feel the way his cock spurts string after string of his release, straight into your throat, cock twitching as you milk him – his moans only enticing you further as you swallow every last drop. Your tongue licks at his crown as you give his shaft languid pumps and his head falls forwards, mouth parted in awe as he rides the bliss you’ve just bestowed upon him. He’s absolutely wrecked but he doesn’t want you to stop – not even as his body cringes in oversensitivity and he’s whimpering, the hand in your hair tugging slightly as he pulls you away. He stares at you, intently.

“That was so good, baby. You’re so good,” he tells you, fingers caressing at your scalp.

“Koo,” you whisper, gasping slightly as he stands up, holding you by the arms as you follow and your knees give out once your feet touch the ground.

“Yes, baby?” His voice is low as he walks you backwards until your hands grip at his desk, one of his legs snaking between yours and pushing them apart until you’re sitting on top of the cold surface.

“I-I like to be good. For you,” your voice shakes, demeanour taking on a submissiveness that you find inevitable when he has you like this – legs trembling even though he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Is that so, baby?” You nod. “I know you do. And you are,” he says.

“Y-yeah,” you sigh.

“And you know what?” He asks, fingers cupping around your face.

“W-what?”

“Good girls get rewards.”

You moan, audibly and loud, right in his face – lips parting as his grip around your jaw tightens. “Yes, please. I want you. I want you so bad,” you cry.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Yes.”

He brings your face closer to his, lips pressing against yours in a needy, sloppy kiss, tongue slipping inside your mouth and licking at your own as your teeth clink, heads leaning to the side. So wanting – so deeply surrendered to your impulses and the very root of your desires.

It lasts a good minute, the two of you bubbled up in your little world – the same one where boundaries come to die and slow takes on a new form. Where little exists besides you and him.

And the way it starts – slowly, tentatively – is not the same way it ends, as you’re abruptly taken out of the moment. The bubble bursting in a split second as both your phones ding repeatedly, the baby monitor notifying you Soori is in the early stages of waking up, signalling you have approximately three minutes to make it to the nursery before she’s fully awake.

“Fuck.” You say, hit with reality.

“It’s okay. I’ll go get her, don’t worry.” He reassures, his hand on your face taking on a softer touch.

“Okay. I’ll be right there in a minute.”

“Take your time,” he says before placing a soft peck to your cheek.

Slow is hell, yes. Even when it’s heavenly.

~

You do as he says and take your time in the bathroom. You comb through your hair, brush your teeth and even re-apply your mascara; you’d made a mess of it with his cock down your throat and the hefty splash of cold water you threw on your face as to calm down the buzz that still ran through your body.

The ache between your legs beats you, though. No idea on how to even begin to tame it down. At least not in an appropriate way.

You stare at the mirror – finally presentable from the outside but a whirlwind of chaotic sexual frustration on the inside that doesn’t really escape your eyes. You try to remember the breathing exercises feel-the-tingle-in-your-core lady has been trying to teach you for the past three days. They work – your heart rate finally calming down and breathing steading back to normal in inhale and exhale motions. You still feel the tingle in your core, though – and not the spiritual one.

When you finally make it out of the bathroom, the house feels eerily quiet and you assume Jungkook and Soori are in the kitchen. You fix your dress, taking a deep breath as you begin to make your way to them.

“Heeey,” Jungkook coos at Soori when you step into the kitchen. “Look who’s here, baby.”

Her big, round eyes are red and she sniffles back some crocodile tears, rubbing her little hands on her eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong, princess?” You say, rounding the kitchen counter until you’re finally face to face with her.

“She woke up a little fussy. I think she had a nightmare.” Jungkook explains, lips smooching at her temple.

“Oh, no, baby girl. Do you want cuddles and Animal Planet?” You ask her and the soft of your voice is enough for her to fall straight into your arms. You hug her to you, gently swaying her from side to side when she nuzzles her head in your shoulder.

“I’ll be right there; I’m just heating up some noodles.” He tells you and you nod, making your way to the living room.

You get her nice and comfy, propping her up in the middle of the couch in her favourite pillow – the one she used to lay on when she was smaller, having now outgrown the habit as she becomes more mobile. She loves it nonetheless, though, and she lays on her side, face nuzzling against the plush fabric as she brings her pacifier to her mouth. Her fingers play with her little ears – something you notice she does to soothe herself.

You turn the Animal Planet on, relieved when you see today’s special is a documentary on sea turtles. Soori friendly – no lions devouring emus, as much as she seems to not mind it. You run your fingers over her silky hair and smile when she sighs at the feel of the comforting gesture.

Jungkook joins the two of you a minute later, sitting next to Soori as he watches the documentary intently – seemingly immersed in the importance to preserve the sea turtles. He slurps his noodles and you’re ashamed to admit the noise is doing you zero favours – everything just triggering that ball of tension in your gut.

“So,” he whispers when he’s sure Soori is fully engrossed in The Animal Planet. “Slow is hard.”

You scoff at the irony his sentence holds and Jungkook can tell you’re wind up. Not necessarily angry, just… frustrated.

“Yeah, you don’t say.” Is all you return, eyes still glued to the screen of the big TV.

“Are you… okay?” He asks and you hate how it immediately registers in your brain – what he’s referring to.

“Yeah, but can we please not talk about it?”

He doesn’t miss the way your thighs rub together for a second before you’re crossing your legs, breath picking up a notch. It sends a jolt straight to his gut and then south.

“I’m sorry, ___,” his voice sounds fallen and when you meet his gaze you notice his face is, too.

“It’s not your fault, Gguk. It’s okay. I just think that, maybe we should… figure this whole slow thing out because we seem to be awful at following whatever unspoken rule it entails.”

“Yes. Yes, I agree. That’s why I was thinking that maybe… we could go on a date.” His words are firm, like he just came up with the world’s brightest idea.

“A date?” Your voice gets that dreamy nature that characterizes you so well and, in that moment, he genuinely believes he has, in fact, come up with the world’s brightest idea.

“Yes. We said we wanted to get to know each other. I don’t think we’ve had much time to do that. And I want to do that – so, so badly, ___.”

“Me too.” You admit. “But I mean… how will that help? If anything, I think it’d just worsen our… situation regarding the slow.”

“I think that it’s a good step towards the right direction. Also, a good opportunity to actually take it slow – just enjoy each other’s companies. I like talking to you. I can do that for one evening, no problem.” You don’t miss the way his features soften, cheeks blushing at his sudden outburst of honesty.

You smile. “Okay, we can do that.”

“Why don’t you come over on Saturday? Soori goes down at 7. You can come over at 7:30 – I’ll cook.”

“Noodles?” You tease.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

“Done deal.”

~

Saturday rolls around faster than you’d expect considering the things we look forward to the most seem to be the furthest away. But, to your luck, this one breezes in – welcomed by none other than Elton John himself as he serenades you into wakefulness.

“Elton,” you say, still half asleep. “I’m going on a date today.”

You have a smile on your face, bringing the covers over you and cozying up in the warmth of your bed.

Your eyes snap open.

“Elton, I’m going on a date today.”

This time the statement takes on a less dreamy pitch. In fact, you sound straight up terrified. You can feel the butterflies take on their routine flight in your tummy – fluttering more erratically than usual.

The thing about Jungkook is that he has a way of making things feel so right. Your mind automatically eases itself around him better than with any failed attempt at meditating. When he says things, it’s always in such a reassuring manner – you used to think it was just the dad in him coming out. But in reality, you’ve realized he simply embodies confidence through and through.

When he suggested you two go on a date you didn’t hesitate once. And even though you tried to suppress it, you felt like a silly little schoolgirl at the prospect of seeing him in such context. On a date. Just the two of you.

It still feels right. So good. You’re excited, you are. But you also can’t help but feel nervous.

“Oh God, Elton. Help,” you don’t necessarily know why you’re asking for help but you’re also talking to Elton John, who keeps blasting Tiny Dancer through the speakers of your phone so, the cause was hopeless from the beginning. “Oh my God. What do I wear?”

You sulk for a minute longer in bed, finally deducting that the prior does no good.

It’s just a date.

In his home.

The one you’re highly familiar with.

It’s just Jungkook.

Fuck. It’s Jungkook.

You get out of bed, giving your head a little shake to finally wake your body up, deciding to finalize it with some coffee. You can smell it already – only a few steps away in your tiny, cozy kitchen, brewed by the heavenly hands of your loving best friend.

“Lucy Lu-” the sight before you cuts your song short as you yelp in surprise, definitely not expecting to see a shirtless Jimin behind your kitchen counter, coffee pot in hand.

“___!” He greets, shooting a big smile your way as he pours some coffee into your favourite jar, making you frown.

“Hi…,” you shouldn’t be surprised, he is dating your best friend after all. But you’re (secretly) dating his and this is all too close for comfort.

He’s talking but you’re not listening, too enthralled by your own train of thought. You only register his last words. “– Like Ggukie.”

“What.” It’s not a question.

“Um… your coffee? Iced Americano, right?”

“Oh. Yes. Yes. Thank you, you didn’t have to.” You say as you take the coffee from his hands, your favourite jar back in your possession.

“Headed to the library?” He asks, sipping on his warm cup of coffee.

“Yeah, in a little bit.”

“Was that Tiny Dancer I heard?”

“Yup. It’s better than Marimba.”

“You do have a point there,” he gives. “What are you doing later? Wanna catch a movie with us?”

You don’t lie.

You hate lying.

Not because you think lies will send you straight to hell the way your mom made you believe when you were growing up.

Simply because you do it so badly.

“No.”

“No?”

“I don’t want to catch a movie with you guys.”

“Oh,” Jimin is confused and it’s evident all over his face. You’ve never been anything but nice to him – in fact, at times it takes him by surprise just how nice you are.

“Yeah, sorry. I just hate the movies.” You add, because of course, why not make it worse with another awfully executed lie. Who hates the movies?

“Oh. Well, we can do something else? Maybe grab some dinner? Drinks? There’s this new pizza place Lucy has been wanting to try-”

“No, I’m… tired. From the week. I think I’ll have an early night tonight. Thank you for the offer though!” You slur the last of that sentence before you’re downing your coffee. Jimin winces, that’s definitely gonna kick in way too fast.

“No worries-”

“Gotta go get ready! Bye!”

You scurry the short steps back to your room, closing the door abruptly once you’re inside.

Jimin laughs.

He can’t help but wonder just why you would tell Elton John about your mysterious date tonight yet avoid telling him at all costs.

~

You and Jungkook’s front door have been through hell and back together. You can’t even begin to count the number of feelings your face has perfectly mirrored right in front of this very door.

Your eyes turn to the doorbell. You huff, laughing a little to yourself as you think of the first time you stood outside his home – in total awe, yet absolutely crucifying his use of top-notch technology on something so mundane like a doorbell.

You feel nervous. But you also feel so, so happy.

You don’t understand just why it’s taking you so long to press your finger into the screen and ring for him.

Because the anticipation is sweet, your heart tells you. Because you put on your favourite dress tonight – just for him. Because waiting the minute between ringing the doorbell and finally seeing him is going to be torture in the best way possible. Because you could write ten thousand poems on this moment alone.

You ring on the doorbell.

You let out a long exhale, swaying back and forth a little as you wait.

Your aforementioned prediction was wrong. It takes him much less than a minute to open his front door.

“Hi,” you tell him, voice sweet and an even sweeter smile following.

He doesn’t care that he’s probably acting a fool right now, just standing there – staring. He does it anyways. You look so beautiful. So soft and gentle. Your dress is silky, a pastel green colour that looks so good with the tan of your skin. It falls past your shoulders, tying at the middle of your chest. It’s a bit shorter than the ones he’s used to seeing you in and your duality hits him once again. Your hair cascades over your shoulders in soft curls – also a new sight for him.

He can’t help it when he speaks his mind.

“You are so beautiful.”

It’s not you look so beautiful in Jungkook’s book. No. You’re just beautiful and he wonders why he doesn’t greet you like this every day.

“So are you,” you tell him, a soft giggle passing your lips as you grow shy at his words.

His dress shirt is white and clean, but it takes on a more relaxed feel with the collarless fit and the soft blue of his jeans.

“Come in,” he says, stepping to the side as you walk inside his home. He notices you’re holding a knitted, yellow mesh bag. “What’s in there?”

“Oh!” You begin, excitedly. “I got Soori some books from the library. These are great to learn new words. And I got us dessert.”

“Thank you,” he presses a kiss against your lips, growing soft over the fact you still think about Soori, even when today is about you two.

“You’re welcome. Do you like peaches?”

“Yes, why?”

“Peaches and cream!” You say, bringing the bag closer to his line of vision as he makes out the plump shape of them.

“Don’t tell me you’re a fruit for dessert type of person.”

“Hey, they’re in season.” You argue, that pout he loves back on your lips. “Plus, don’t even start with me. You’re a cheese for dessert type of person.”

“What’s wrong with cheese for dessert?”

“I’d try to explain it to you but it’s a lost cause considering you’re also a lounge set type of person.”

He laughs, loud and airy, making your heart flutter at having that effect on him.

“I’m a sweet things for dessert type of person.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You joke as you follow his lead to the kitchen, hand in his. “It smells so good. What’s for dinner, Chef?”

He clears his throat. “Crispy honey orange glazed salmon.”

You gasp. “Oh me, oh my.”

“With my famous oven roasted rosemary potatoes,” he says, walking you closer to the oven so you can see them cooking. “Oh. And a kale and walnut salad.” He winks.

“Oh my God, you can actually cook.”

“It comes naturally,” he brags. “Well, that and a hidden passion for The Cooking Channel.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. Like me any less for it?”

You chuckle, walking closer to him. “Not one bit.”

Your kiss is soft, like your arms in his hands when they caress your skin. And for the first time since you’ve agreed on slow, Jungkook actually enjoys it. It makes something jump at his insides when he thinks about how it feels like tonight, he has all the time in the world with you.

“I thought we could eat outside? The weather’s so nice.”

“I’d love that.”

You help him plate the food – garnishing it a little the way Lucy has taught you and he gasps in surprise, genuinely paying attention as you ramble on about the wonders of little green leaves and how you like your food more when it’s photogenic.

“Please, stop reminding me you grew up with the internet,” he tells you, closing his eyes dramatically as you tell him about your secret food rating Instagram account.

“Do you like me any less for it?” You ask, mimicking his previous words.

“Not one bit,” he kisses you. “But stop reminding me.”

You laugh. “Let’s eat, dad. You’re lucky I don’t rate my friend’s foods – you’d be breaking under pressure right now.”

Even though he laughs at your remarks he doesn’t miss the way you say friends.

He doesn’t know exactly what feelings the word stirs inside of him but he finds himself pondering on it for a little longer than usual. Technically, he is your friend. It’s a twisted thought, all things considered, but he can’t really deny it.

Why does it make him feel slightly uneasy, then?

~

The set-up is simple but you don’t miss the romantic atmosphere that clouds upon the space.

Jungkook’s backyard is illuminated by dim, yellow lights. Besides the blue water of the pool that you can make out at the far end, not a lot picks up colour, enclosing the two of you in a comforting darkness. Two tall, white candles sit in the middle of the table – shining direct light onto the two of you, shadows dancing with the flames.

The food is delicious and the wine is rich with hints of sweet cherry and even though you’ve never gravitated towards red it slowly becomes your favourite – forever tied up to this memory.

“Why literature?”

Your answer comes without hesitation. “Why love?”

“Is all literature a work of love?”

“To some extent.”

“But some of it is about pain. Life. Loss. Anger.”

“All emotions romanticised in order to tell a story.”

He looks at you for a moment but you don’t shy away from his gaze once. He likes the courage you take on when you talk about the things you love.

“Do you write about me?”

That does it, eyes lost for a second before they fixate on the slow dancing flame of the candle in front of you.

“I do.”

“In what romanticised emotion?”

“All of them,” you sigh.

He smiles. “I wish I could write about you.”

“Why?”

“I think I’m understanding it now. The need to encapsulate memories in order to not forget them.”

“When a memory is good it never truly fades.”

“Yes, but when it feels like this you want to hold on to every last detail.”

“I’ll write about it. I’ll write enough words for the two of us.”

~

After dinner, you two take on different tasks to tidy up the kitchen as fast as possible. It’s nice, the conversation you had at the table never lost – just a more casual continuation of it.

Jungkook is funny, kind. At times he speaks with the wonder and softness of a weightless soul and your heart is still trying to digest that information – the notion that he is so lovable tugging at every last string.

“Wanna watch a movie as we eat your peaches and cream?” He asks, passing you a clean plate as you dry it with a towel.

“Keep up the attitude and I will eat them all.”

He chuckles. “What do you want to watch, baby?”

“Something scary.”

That takes him by surprise. “What?”

“Yeah!”

You begin reciting all of your favourite horror movies to him – a keen interest for the psychological thrillers.

“Ooh, ooh! Should we watch The Orphan? It’s about- no. I’m not telling you. I’ll ruin the whole thing,” you say.

He stares at you for a minute, slightly dumbfounded. “We can watch whatever you want.”

“The Orphan it is!”

~

Jungkook has never felt more on edge throughout a movie in his entire life.

And for someone who claims to love spooky movies (your words, not his) you sure do jump and shriek a whole lot through the majority of the film.

But, like a teenage boy, Jungkook enjoys how scared you get – taking advantage of it and wrapping you in his arms, keeping you safely tucked in his hold.

Your legs are thrown over his lap and your head rests on top of his chest and you’re all over. You’re all over and he loves it all. The way you smell and the way your voice resonates on his chest as you comment on the movie. The way your skin shivers when his hand moves mindlessly over your arm at times. It all feels so good to Jungkook. So right.

By the time the credits roll in, darkening the screen and the room, your bodies are tangled together. As the movie reached its climax, Jungkook’s body had fallen on top of yours, legs lacing around your own and head resting on top of your chest as your fingers ran through his scalp gently.

“That was wild. You watch this for fun?” He asks, body not moving an inch, completely melted under your touch.

You yawn, giggling a little at the way his words are muffled by the way his cheek presses on your chest. “Hey, you got really into it towards the end.”

“Yeah, because the orphan was a thirty-two-year-old, whack-out-of-her-mind loonie!” He looks up at you. “You sleepy?”

“A little. I should probably head home.”

“How are you getting home?”

“I’m taking the bus,” you tell him, fingers falling from his hair to his cheek.

“It’s late…,” his face softens. “You can always stay here.”

You pause for a second. “You sure?”

He is. Tonight proved a lot to Jungkook. New depths attached to his feelings that he slightly shies away from – the intensity throwing him aback. But nonetheless he gets a glimpse of them and at surface level. He enjoys them.

It also proved that you guys can be close without tempting slow in a dangerous way. I mean just look at the two of you – bodies lost in one another without crossing any lines.

“Yes, I’m sure.” He gives you a tender smile, his warmth leaving you as he gets up from the couch, hand outstretched for you to take. “Come on, let’s get you some warm clothes. We can watch The Cooking Channel to rub The loonie Orphan off.”

~

You stand in the middle of his closet, a bit overwhelmed by its grandness. You are shit at dimensions but you’re pretty sure it’s bigger than your room.

“How many black and white shirts can one person own?” You ask, eyes widening as he changes into sweatpants and an oversized white shirt.

“Just pick something already, baby.”

“You pick. And it’s okay if you want to give me your least favourite shirt – I’ve done that with my friends, too.”

There goes that word again.

He brushes it to the side, standing in front of the tall railings and rummaging through his clothes

“Here,” he says, passing you a soft, white hoodie and matching sweatpants.

“Thank- is this Balenciaga?”

“___, just put it on. Let’s go to bed.”

You oblige, discarding your dress and stepping into the sweatsuit, rolling the waistband a couple of times until they don’t fall around your hips, basking in the coziness of the oversized sweatshirt around your frame.

He stands in front of the sink, passing you an extra toothbrush and squeezing some toothpaste over the bristles before he does the same with his own.

You two just stand there, brushing your teeth and staring at each other on the reflection of the mirror, smiling quickly before both your eyes divert – suddenly shy at the intimacy of the action.

He’s done first, pressing his lips on your cheek before he exits the bathroom, letting you know he’s going to check on Soori one last time before bed.

Once you’re done, you rinse your mouth, staring at yourself in the mirror for a couple of seconds. If you let it, your mind will roam to faraway places, digging into every corner this moment holds. You don’t let it. Simply taking it for what it is and letting yourself enjoy it.

His bed is big and you don’t really know which one is his side so, a little dubious, you opt for simply sitting right in the middle of it, crossing your legs as you fidget with your fingers – waiting for him.

When Jungkook steps inside his bedroom, he makes a mental note to remember this sight.

He likes it a little too much, he realizes.

You smile at him when you see him and he returns it, walking towards the bed.

“Which is your side? Are you a one side of the bed person or an in the middle or a don’t really care-” you’re rambling, a tell-tale sign that lets Jungkook know that you’re nervous. He laughs, making you pout as you stop talking.

“Left side. You?”

You shrug. “I like the middle.”

His knees sink into the mattress as he walks himself closer to you.

“It’s all yours,” he says, coming to hover over you.

“T-thanks,” you look up at him, eyes meeting his.

“You’re welcome,” he tucks a strand of fallen hair behind your ear, his touch sweet. “You’re so pretty.”

“You’re really hot.”

Your honesty makes him laugh. “Is that all there is to me?” He teases.

You roll your eyes. “It’s not and you know it.”

His smirk is playful, contrasting the sweetness in his features. “You’re really hot, too.”

“Jungkook…”

“Tell me, baby.”

“I-I think we should play The Cooking Channel a-and go to bed n-now.”

He inches closer as you shuffle your body backwards slightly.

“Or what?”

“I’m not gonna want to stop.”

Out of every answer he could’ve expected the boldness of your choice of words falls far in the list. He raises one eyebrow at you, cocking his head to the side.

“I like you, ___. I like you so much.”

“I like you, too.”

“And I don’t want to stop either.”

Your hands fly to his stomach, fisting at the soft fabric of his shirt with force, pulling him towards you until he falls in between your legs, arms quickly holding his body from crashing against yours as they press on the mattress at either side of your head.

Once he’s got a steady hold on his body, he lowers his head to yours, lips finally finding your own – kissing you slowly and deep, savouring every stroke of your tongue as it finds his. Your fingers tangle on his dark locks, using the leverage to push him closer to you, every touch letting him know just how much you want him – how much you need him.

He pulls away, smiling a little at the way you whine when he does. His hands fly to the hem of his hoodie, pulling it up as you pull your arms over your head, making it easier for him to slide the fabric off of you. You’re not wearing a bra and it’s a pleasant surprise – one he doesn’t waste a second on as his lips close around your nipple, hand kneading at your other breast. Your back arches, a fistful of hair in your hold as you tug harshly, lost in pleasure. He hisses at the feeling, a deep groan following as he circles his tongue over the perk flesh.

Your hips raise from the bed, rutting into his as your desire begins to unravel further – a build up so slow until it snaps, bursting inside of you all at once, manifesting all through your body as it grows headier for him. He moans as your hips push into him once again, lowering his body to yours and pushing until you can feel every inch of him – legs spreading wider as you chase that friction, feeling his big cock thickening against your clothed pussy. You can feel his impressive girth and length even over the layers and the contact, paired with his incessant assault on your tits, has you moaning and squirming under him.

“Jungkook- please,” you beg, hazy minded.

He looks up at you, dark eyes meeting yours. “What do you want, baby? Tell me.”

“Y-you, please. Just- I need you.”

“You got me, baby.”

As soon as those words leave his mouth, his body begins to lower – lips attached to your skin as they travel from your chest, down your stomach that caves in at the feeling of his tongue as he trails a path of open-mouthed kisses until they finally reach just above the waistband of his sweatpants. His grin widens as he notices the scrunched-up fabric. You look down at him, wishing you could humour him yet too lost in how the sight of him between your legs like that will be engraved in your mind forever. You whimper – he looks so sinful, tongue running over his bottom lip as his eyes darken. Your hips buck involuntarily.

“Easy, angel.” He says, the timbre of his voice so deep it has you clenching around nothing.

You nod, lost for words as the anticipation builds up, making you grow excited as his fingers hook inside your pants. He brings your legs up as he comes to stand back on his knees, tugging at the fabric until they’re finally off and he’s discarding them, throwing them mindlessly to the side. Your legs are outstretched over his torso and his head turns to the side before he’s kissing your calves. Your chest flutters at the tenderness of the action, that gentleness never leaving him.

His hands run down the back of your thighs, sending goosebumps all through your body as you fidget under his touch, a faint whimper falling past your lips. He places your legs back on the bed gently, feet pressing on the mattress as your thighs fall open instinctively. He stares at you and there’s something in his gaze you’ve never seen before – a hunger that intimidates you, making you shy away from his darkening eyes, closing your legs quickly.

“Why do you hide, baby?” His hands rest on your knees, thumb running over them softly.

“I’m- embarrassed,” you say timidly.

“Why?”

“I-I’m so wet.”

“Oh, baby.”

He doesn’t miss another beat as his hands work your legs open, falling back to the bed on his stomach when you comply. You’re wearing a pair of silky white panties and once he comes face to face with your covered mound, he can see the wet patch that adorns the middle. He bites his lip, running a knuckle over it tentatively, pressing softly on your clit. He’s pleased when you squirm, hips circling under his touch, the prettiest moan escaping your lips.

“Let me fix it,” he says, looking at you.

You nod, carding your fingers through his hair, tugging on it a little as the air grows thick around you. Your panties follow the same fate as the rest of your clothes, joining the pile somewhere on his floor.

Jungkook moans. He moans when your legs open up for him, pussy in full display – lips plump and glistening from your build up arousal. His lips press over your slit in a soft but firm kiss that escalates as his tongue comes past it and licks a wet stripe right over your entrance all the way up to your clit, parting your folds open for him.

“Oh my God,” you cry, hands flying up, fist closing around the pillows.

You taste so fucking sweet on his tongue, your juices already dripping down his chin as his lips close around your clit, sucking on it until your legs are closing around his head and your hips are rutting against his face. He pulls away, a lewd sound resonating past his lips as your little nub throbs at the loss of his mouth. He parts your legs further, giving you a warning look as he does so. He settles back down between your legs, making you yelp as his tongue teases your entrance, pressing further with every lick between your folds.

“You’re so sweet, taste so fucking good,” he says, mouth never leaving your cunt.

“A sweet things for dessert type of guy, huh?” You muster one final ounce of wittiness before the feeling of his middle finger sinking into you has you crying out in pleasure.

“The sweetest fucking thing.” The sound of his voice right against your pussy mixed with the squelching as he attacks your heat doubles as pornographic, and has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He adds a second finger after a couple of pumps, mercilessly sucking on your clit – your walls swallowing his digits further with every stroke of that spot inside of you that has you dangerously close to the edge.

His fingers slide out of you, coming up to spread your pussy open for him until he can see your clit pulsing, swollen and exposed for him. You whine when he softly blows over it, the feeling so intense you’re afraid it’ll have you cumming in a second if he keeps it up. But Jungkook shows mercy – lowering his head and closing his lips perfectly around your engorged clit. You can feel it so much more intensely, every quick suck as he keeps your folds parted, giving him better access to that bundle of nerves.

“Oh- oh my fucking God. I’m gonna cum- fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop-”

You’re a mess, feeling delirious as you feel your body tensing at the wake of your orgasm.

“Do it, baby. Cum all over my tongue,” he coaxes, shoving two fingers inside of you as he wastes no time hooking up and pressing them against your g-spot as he feels your walls fluttering around them. “Cum all around my fingers.”

Your eyes snap wide open at the sudden intrusion and it’s about a second later that your orgasm spreads all through you in waves – pleasure settling in different parts of your body as you shake, pussy closing around his fingers in fast little pulses, so intensely he can feel it against his tongue. His movements never stop, pace only picking up as you cum, hard and loud.

“T-too much,” you say, body twitching as you begin to come down.

His body settles back between your legs, hands softly cupping your cheek as your body finally relaxes, falling into that post orgasmic bliss. He kisses you – slow and sweet, adding to the overall high that takes over you. You feel so good – every inch of your skin tingles slightly, mind still cloudy from the pleasure.

“Jungkook,” you purr and he hums against your mouth. “Fuck me. Please.”

“Fuck, baby. Those dirty words don’t match that pretty face,” he says, face falling to the crook of your neck as he breathes heavily.

There are many things Jungkook wants to do to you right now. About a thousand different ways he’d take you – especially when you sound so compliant, totally surrendered to him. But right now, he just wants you close. He wants to feel your body under him, to be able to run his hands all over it as he elicits those pretty sounds from your lips. He wants to be able to swallow them all.

“I’ll give you whatever you want,” he hums against your lips.

“Off,” you say, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

His body comes up, weight resting back on his feet as he takes his shirt off. He looks so soft like this – so dreamy. You don’t miss the way his demeanour changes, how that smirk turns into a lazy smile as he runs his hand down your leg until it lands back on your cunt. He fucks two of his fingers into you, the action has more intention this time as he scissors them inside of you, spreading your walls open for his cock. He bites his lip as he watches your face contort in pleasure, his dick jerking inside its restraints in anticipation.

He pecks your lips as his fingers slide out of you, crawling towards the edge of the bed as he comes to a stand. Your arm stretches in his direction, missing him already, pout forming at your lips as you beckon for him.

He chuckles softly as he bends over, rummaging through the second drawer on his nighstand. He stands back up, closing it with his knee as he throws a single foil packet and a bottle of lube on the bed.

You reach for both, your fingers playing with the condom wrapper as your eyes never leave him – watching intently as his fingers hook on the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down alongside his black Calvin’s, promptly kicking them out of the way before he’s crawling back to you.

He finds that spot back between your legs again, eyes locking with yours before he’s kissing you. You lean your head to the side, happy with how familiar you’ve grown with the rhythm of his lips. It’s intoxicating – the way it feels. So addictive as you push your tongue past his lips, running it over the back of his teeth, biting on his lip, sucking on his tongue. You’re greedy – needing to feel around him all.

He pulls away, settling back on his legs as he reaches for the bottle of lube, lathering some down the length of his middle and ring finger before he’s pushing them inside of you once again.

He presses on that spot, particularly sensitive after your previous orgasm and you hiss, hand closing around his wrist. “Stop, stop. You’re gonna make me cum again.”

“What’s so wrong with that?” His lips tug at the side of his mouth in a loopy grin.

“I want to cum around your big cock, Jungkook.”

“Fuck,” he presses on your spot again, “I love your filthy little mouth.”

You moan, eyes closing shut as you frantically pat on the bed at your side, looking for the condom you’d discarded on the sheets. Once you finally find it, you bring it to your mouth, pressing down on the round shape of the latex as you tear it open with your teeth.

“C’mere,” you purr and his body falls on top of yours once again, fingers still thrusting in and out of you slowly.

He whimpers when your small hand wraps around his cock, eyes falling to take in the sight. You pump at his shaft languidly with one hand, collecting his precum and spreading it around his length before your other one lowers, rolling the condom on, pinching at the tip slightly as you secure the latex around his base. He reaches for the bottle of lube once again, popping it open with his teeth before he lathers a generous amount onto his cock and down your slit, spreading it with his fingers. You’re so wet it’s starting to feel uncomfortable, but you know you’re going to need all the help you can get as your snug walls accommodate to his size.

His body lowers to yours, legs opening your own further apart as he lines his cock over your entrance.

“Ready, angel?”

You nod, arms snaking around his waist. “Go slow,”

“I will, baby.”

He kisses you one last time, lips hovering above yours as he begins to sink the head of his cock inside of you. You wince against his lips, the burn spreading all through your core as you take the first couple of inches. His thumb circles around your clit, easing the tension that builds around your body, helping you relax around him.

“You’re s-so big, Koo.” Your voice is a faint whisper that gets lost in between soft mewls.

“You’re doing so good, baby. So fucking good for me.” His voice is soft but strained and you can tell it’s taking all the strength in him not to ram into your tight cut as your walls swallow him in with every inch he sinks into you.

He’s so thick and you feel so full, arms tightening around his waist and toes curling at the sharp pain of having him fully inside of you as he bottoms out.

“Oh, f-fuck. You feel so good around me, fuck.” He praises, lips pressed to your cheek as his breath quickens.

You kiss him, hips raising up after a while to meet his and he hisses into your mouth at the feeling, pulling out slowly only to thrust back into you as he begins to spread you open with his cock with every push and pull. The pain starts to dance around with pleasure as his pace picks up, both your moans getting lost in one another’s as his forehead presses onto yours – face to face with every single expression and every little sound his thrusts emit out of you.

“I l-love your cock. I love your cock s-so much, Jungkook. Fuck- God,” your words drag out, pausing every time you feel him impossibly deep, his tip hitting against that spot perfectly and you moan out his name every time his cock pistons into you, pressing against it.

Your little pussy is so wet and warm – only getting tighter the more Jungkook fucks you open and it dawns upon him in that very moment that he’s officially tasted you, has you in a way that will make it very difficult not to crave you constantly. Want you, always.

“Ffuck, baby. Mine. This pussy was made for me.”

His words make you free-fall right into your second orgasm of the night – ripping inside of you so suddenly and with such ferocity it has the both of you gasping. Your mouth parts in a silent moan, throwing your head back in utter pleasure. He groans as he feels the way your fingernails press on the warm skin of his back, the sharp pain trailing all the way down until your hands land on his ass, pressing him deeper into you.

“Fuck, what was that-” He hisses in total disbelief, so lost in your pleasure. You clench around him once more as he sinks deep into you. “F-fuck I’m gonna cum, baby. You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Cum for me, please. Please.”

Your eyes are glazed over, tears falling from the corners as you look up at him. He loves how receptive you are – how pleasure takes on every part of you. He loves how your face mirrors exactly what he’s doing to you and he loves the little whimpers that fall in between your words when you’re begging for him. When you speak your mind – filthy little words coming past your red lips, so swollen from your teeth and his sinking into them.

You watch him, fighting with your heavy eyes to stay open as his face scrunches up in pleasure and a raspy moan leaves his lips, breaths coming out in frantic little puffs as he rides the waves of his orgasm and spills into the condom – so much fucking cum you swear you can feel it.

“Oh my God,” he speaks against your neck, the vibrations sending shivers down your body.

Your fingers play with the soft hairs at the back of his neck, your other hand running lazily over his back as his body grows limp on top of yours. He feels heavy but you don’t mind it, enjoying his warmth – wanting nothing more than to have him this close for as long as you can.

You smile, listening to the little sounds he makes as his body relaxes and sleep begins to tempt him. He’s so warm, so soft as he lets you hold him like this. It almost feels like his two bare hands were taking a hold of your heart, cradling it ever so tenderly and squeezing it all at the same time.

He’s still inside of you and he knows it’s only a matter of seconds before he’s going to have to pull away. So, he lets himself enjoy whatever eternity those seconds hold, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck – lips right against it and all it takes is a soft pout for them to press on the soft skin.

He feels safe in your arms.

It’s then that you realize that all this time you were separating two things that walked hand in hand, together.

Jeon Jungkook is peace.

And you welcome it.

~

what just happened lol? i’m fucking screaming. I truly hope u enjoyed!!!!!!!!! pls they’re falling in love right under our noses. in this country home of sex n love n magic. do let me know what u think bc i love loving on u guys back <3333333 thank u for making it this far w me! it means the world <3

~

★taglist★

@roro-in-utopia @yiyi4657 @littlrmills14-blog @namjooningelsewhere @drownforryou @iwanttohitmyself @finelinememories @yukiehyukie @shatzkrinslinzki @bts-fic-recs-mess @kokoandkookie @subtlepjiminie @girl-meetsevil @kookiesbreaky @di0rgguk @bloopkook @babyrosieareroses @kookiecrumb @casspirit0705 @eclectictacozinewobbler @tickledpink55 @rjsmochii @dimcorner @miniiimee @vintageroses10 @amyniu @tessxblxckthorn @emotionaltrashcansblog @fangirl125reader @laurynne5 @thickgrinch @dianaxnyc @ruinsofangels @berryonasummerevening @taeslarityy

The Second

Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Request:  Hi there!So I’m making a request which involves domestic kook!Like koo and the reader are becoming parents for the second time however they’re both scared because their first child was a preemie!I want the scenario to be fluff and angsty both like can you please add a scene where the two of them argue..? It could be when the reader tells koo about her pregnancy and he’s taken aback because he’s scared for our safety.So it’s the first time he yells and the moment reader starts crying he regrets it

Warnings: Angsty and Fluffy

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This baby Jungkook is so cute 😭😭. I can't. My heart is gonna blust.