Roses
⚠️ Warnings: slight swearing, angst ⚠️
"What the fuck do you want from me, Kook?"
"You still use my nickname."
"Must've been a slip of the tongue."
Jungkook held his bouquet of roses that he had picked up from the store for you down by his side; no longer enthusiastic to come see you today. He was beginning to think this whole thing was hopeless. He knew he messed up, and that his actions weren't fair to you, but he wanted you back. Needed you back. You're all he ever thought about and the nights spent alone in his apartment with your side of the bed cold wasn't sitting right with him. He missed the way you guys would snuggle, the way you would spend mornings together, and the nights after work when both of you seemingly collapsed into each other's arms due to fatigue. He missed it all.
But he screwed up. Big time.
And now he was dealing with the consequences.
He anxiously tapped his foot as he prepared himself for the words that were going to come out of your mouth. The words he knew he would have to stop avoiding and face head-on. The words he knew that would ruin everything he didn't already.
"It's over, Jeon."
And there it was.
How would one put into words the description of a broken heart? It's the worst feeling in the world. It's like finding out someone you loved just died, and in a way....they did. At least a part of Jungkook did. He could hear the metaphorical shatter of his heart ring through his ears as finally accepted that you were serious. Things weren't okay. They got worse and then it ended. That was it.
No more car rides, no more carousels at amusement parks. No more shared coffees and dances in the rain. No more late night talks and hugs. No more love. No more you.
And it was all his fault.
Jungkook dropped the roses and walked out the door.
And that was the last time he heard your voice.
This is just a little oneshot I wrote because I was listening to a sad BTS playlist 😭 If this does well, I can always write this into a longer fic, just let me know! Thanks for reading
Warmth
Jhope x fem! Reader
Hobi always felt cold. Even when he acted warm and happy in front of camera. Until she entered his life. She showed him what warmth was. She was like a ray of sunshing in his never ending winter. Her love was like solar flairs.... making him feel warm and happy. She was his safe heaven in his hectic life. His constant. She was with him for every moment. Every happines, sadness he faced. She was there to heal his wounds when he was hurt. She was his muse ever since he met her. People may say that they were like puzzle pieces that fit together.. but its not. They have their edges. But their love for each other softened those edges so that the other half wouldn't get hurt.
Namjoon x reader
Words: 391
Thunderstorms remind me of you
You who was there on the rainy days
Overpowering the dreary, mood
You sparked and brought light to the sky
I was afraid of you at first
But at some point, you became comforting to me
You were my Thunderstorm
There was a thunderstorm, outside. The clouds were rolling, the rain was pouring down accompanied by the flashes of lightning. Y/N was scared of storms since they were young. The flashes of lightning, the loud noises, and the howling wind all scared them...
But now they were at ease... Thunderstorms became pleasant for them since they met Namjoon; he was their knight in shining armor that protected them like a shield from the arrows of what they were so terrified of.
If it had been their younger self they would have run and hidden somewhere, turning herself into a ball waiting for all the commotions outside to stop. But now thunderstorms didn’t scare them... it reminded them of his love .
Y/N was scared at first, questioning themself for getting into a relationship with a busy idol. But Namjoon reassured them and talked them out of all the insecure thoughts that plagued Y/N's mind. He was there for them all the times they were insecure, when they were questioning themself, or when they were stressing about work and Y/N was there for him when he was insecure about not being a perfect leader or a boyfriend, when he was not getting any inspiration to write or compose, or when he was stressed of everything happening in life. They were like two pieces of a puzzle that fitted each other perfectly to make a complete picture. They completed each other by filling each other’s incompleteness.
Now they were both on their couch cuddling comfortably while Namjoon read a book aloud for Y/N to listen. They were both happy in each other’s embrace, sharing their warmth, sharing their love…
BTS x Reader longfic | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader | Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut
Status: ongoing
Rating: Teen (for now - will have eventual smut, which will change the rating)
Summary: Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right? What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.
Word Count: approximately 92k (so far)
<< masterlist
🚗 STORY SURVEY RESULTS 🚗 (31/7/2020)
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25 - SPECIAL
Chapter 26
ongoing …
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Drabbles
Coming Soon
Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved. No part of this collection may be reproduced, distributed, or translated in any form or by any means. Legal action will be taken if necessary.
when the camellia blooms | pjm
sypnosis: diagnosed with the hanahaki disease, you had only two options - accept a deathly fate, or never love again.
genre: au, angst, fluff, humor, friends to lovers? maybe.
warnings: many talks of death and dying, namjoon is the sweetest brother omg, unrequited love, swearing, pining, longing, fictional added terms and effects of the hanahaki disease, really sad reader, really sad characters, and lots of angst.
word count: (read author's note)
reminder: this is a sequel. please read part one here; however, this also could serve as a stand-alone, but I would advise you read the first part as well for the full experience.
a/n: i was mauling for a long long long time over whether i should do three parts at most or just keep this one really lengthy, and since i was afraid of losing track if i chose to cut it in parts again, i just decided to make this one quite a bit long. sorry!
"let me try to love you back to life."
"Is that what you think?"
You remember the long pause before your response, a deafening silence amidst the growing tense and suffocating air that evening as you spoke.
You had known then that Jimin regretted what he said the moment he did, but it was too late. He’s already said it, and he’s hurt you.
Jimin looks at you with ache as you stare accordingly at the blank wall, noticing the way your eyes have begun to well up in tears as the familiar feeling of tightness succumbs your throat, light feathers of pink flowers forcefully being swallowed down, "Do you think that I don't remember? That I simply don't care? That I'm just on the fence playing peek-a-boo with death on my door?"
Focusing on you with a heart contrite, Jimin places his bottom lip in between his teeth, eyes meshed together amongst sorrow as he swallows in shame, feeling completely guilty at his preceding words.
"y/n I-"
You then laugh ironically, halting him to a stop.
"Forgive me, Jimin."
Your throat is furthermore burning by each passing second as you direct your gaze at the cause of your painful love, "Forgive me if I prefer to want to spend my last days in peace with the acceptance of my crushing fate. Forgive me for not wanting to die on my death bed sulking and cursing the universe and God and myself and whatever I can for this unfair hanafuckinghaki sickness. Forgive me-"
You uttered every word that night with a sense of despise, a sense of spite, each one a striking arrow shot directly at Jimin's heart.
"-if I choose to pretend to be happy and to be okay for my brother and for your sake." You spit out, last words purposely said with more effect.
Taking a few steps closer towards him, you point your finger accusingly against his chest as your tears willingly fall, lips slightly quivering as your anger all the more increases the moment you two lock eyes.
Your breath is caught at the back of your throat as you look up, finding yourself standing in the very front of Jimin's presence.
You swallow harshly, height difference being of no use as your red eyes focusedly trained on his same ones tower over him, both pairs seemingy battling for agony, "But don't you stand there and accuse me of being indifferent- fucking indifferent of all fucking things towards Sung's death. She was my friend before yours, and losing her hurt just as much as anything else."
You remember crying out, not finding an interest on holding in neither your sobs nor your coughs any longer as you did so right at his face, further recalling how you felt not even an ounce of guilt whatsoever as you purposefully reminded him of your current illness in hopes of making him feel worse.
“y/n please...” Jimin barely utters out, almost visibly fading from the way you raise your voice further in his attempts of cutting you off.
"Don't. Don’t you dare accuse me of ever forgetting that night, because as far as I remember, I was the one who kept inside the pain of losing someone close. I was the one who held you when you cried, consoling you to an unbearable extent that I forgot to console myself." Still looking at him in the eyes, you speak out words of regret as you proceed to cough lightly, the pain inside you endlessly growing that you insisted on passing it to someone else.
One word after another, you could remember physically witnessing the pain in Jimin's eyes.
The way his eyebrows were furrowed together and the glistening streaks that ran along his red cheeks were an evident proof of your success in wounding him, but you didn't care. You told yourself you didn't care. You lied to yourself in saying you didn’t care.
No. You didn't care.
For once, you could still sense that rushing feeling of wanting to lessen the burden of falling in love with Jimin. For once, you wanted to make him feel the pain you've kept inside you for the past two years. For once- for once you wanted to be the cause of his pain, not the other way around.
But that once lasted only as is, just once.
The moment you speak those words against him, your heart begins to ache all the more, the dreaded feeling of guilt and shame and love and pain all united together in rising above your limit as you abruptly collapse onto his arms, growing weak and coughing brutally as the camellias say hello to its desired lover.
You eyes begin to desperately search his as you cling onto him, head proceedingly buried against his chest all the while sobbing uncontrollably, apologies escaping past your visibly whimpering lips, “I-I'm sorry, Chim. I didnt- I don't blame you, I'm so sorry-"
You remember seeing Jimin, just seconds ago having been distraught and practically falling apart from your direct words, somehow manage to gather himself as he stands his ground, still and determined on holding you securely.
His arms are wrapped around you in a protective yet delicate manner, eyes trained worriedly on your fragile state all the while patting your back, tenderly comforting you, “Shh- shh. It’s okay, y/n. Just breathe. Focus on your breathing, that’s right.”
Your breathing has gone erratic, lifting your head a tad bit in order to look at him as you reminisce that night, when you were the one holding him as he cried. "I'm so sorry, Chim."
You remember the first few of your countless apologies which Jimin nevertheminds, holding no other concern than that of which is your state of well-being.
"It's okay, okay? We're okay. Now c'mon, walk with me to the sofa. You can do that right? On three. One, two three..”
Minutes feel like hours as you recall the way Jimin assisted you for a time on end, treating you as though you were a rare delicacy with his manner of tenderness, softness, soft whispers against your ear and soft touches along your spine as he helps you find your amity once more.
Unaware that he is just that — your amity, your armistice.
Sat on the sofa, you continue on controlling your breathing as you inhale in and exhale out, Jimin's voice supple and light by the side of your earlobe as words of encouragement slip past his lips, still slightly red and swollen from his previous cries.
You could practically feel his breath against your ear with the sheer distance between the two of you, the noticeable intimacy of both your positions making you shudder and shut your eyes in an attempt of preserving in place another series of newly blooming flowers.
Standing up abruptly, you look at anywhere but Jimin as you scan your surroundings, all before making a clear statement.
Hesitantly, you whisper, "I think I should go."
Jimin's eyes haltingly falters, confusion capitulating his entire expression before attempting to reach out to you, "So soon? I think you should stay y/n-"
"Why?" You intervene motionlessly.
Caught aback with the benevolence and lack of sentiment in your voice, Jimin unrequitedly stutters as he responds, "Because y-your condition is still not well and I-"
"My brother is a doctor, Chim. I'll ask him to stay with me."
"-I just think it'll be better for you to stay here for a while and rest-"
"Better for me?" You begin, once more keeping his words short, "Or better for you?"
You remember Jimin's widened eyes, clearly not expecting you to say what you did.
"I.." Jimin thinks before continuing, hands grazing yours just as he speaks, "I just want you here. I need you here."
At his words, you remember recalling that exact phrase spoken to you the night Sung died, just when he caught himself falling apart and firstly reached out to you.
You remember the way he stared at you with a sense of longing, a sense of yearning, deeply wanting to convey an emotion you don't- you refuse to understand.
Because you recognizes the love held not only on his eyes, but on his touch, on his lips,
making you want to kiss him, hold him, touch him.
God, you just want to love him.
“Jimin..” Your voice feels light against his face, whispers eluding past your lips as your breath leaves a wisp along Jimin’s plump cheeks, stroking the slightly pink and flushed skin from the sadness it’s undergone not too long ago.
His eyes beam longingly at you, conveying messages that seem foreign to your understanding as your heart palpitates unevenly against his grasp. But it was enough to block your mind, it was enough to drive you wild, it was enough for you to completely lose all sense and thought-process, your brain not reciprocating anything other than what the heart is yearning for.
Him.
And lastly, you remember not being able to hold yourself back as you bring to life the buried words you have kept underground for the longest time.
Your eyes trained directly at his averts down to his lips, the camellias no more blooming as it succumbs to desire, craving no more than to offer him the love you have saved in secret for the past twenty four months, "I love you, Jimin."
Lowly pronounced words as you gaze at him, breath still and steadily fanning the smile slowly forming on his lips.
"I love you too, y/n. You're my best friend."
You remember your conflict, the feeling of pure loss and distraught overtaking you as you remain still. There you were, being loved by him completely, yet it is a love that seemingly leaves you feeling incomplete. Feeling unwhole and broken, feeling void and sunken.
You remember hearing your heart physically crack as you perceive his words, your sight lingering on his own, mockingly filled with a kind of love that you didn't want.
A love that you, quite literally, didn't need.
As soon as you hear what he’s chosen to disclose, you crack an unwilling fictitious smile on your lips just seconds before a hand covers it, your body limpingly maneuvering against Jimin’s hold as you feel your throat contract once more, catching his undivided attention.
Eyebrows furrowed, Jimin calls out in confusion, “y/-”
You remember the endless coughs that had suddenly broke out of you, the worst of what is offered from the Hanahaki being at present time the moment his lips offer a chaffing smile, his concern and sincerity being your death unbeknownst to him.
Coughing vigorously, you push Jimin aside as the overwhelming feeling of sorness and torment leads you to spurt out tears by the corners of your eyes, pushing you to whimper out cryingly. Your back is turned from the origin of your agony as he calls out your name, a voice so quiet yet loud against your hearing, emotionally wounding you as you cry out in pain.
"-y/n..?"
Because you remember a one petal.
And then two, then three,
and you remember blood.
Not wanting to let him see you in such a state that shall most definitely force him to fully understand the meaning of your supposed ‘love’ for him, you run out of his home, opening the door and not bothering to shut it close as you hurryingly exit out.
You ignore all of his calls and pleas as you run
and you run
and you run
and you run
and you cough, thanking the heavens silently as you locate a bus stopped after passing a few blocks.
“y/n wait! Please!-”
You step inside the transportation with no intention of looking back, forcing yourself to cancel out the calls of Jimin's voice, muffled from the reaches of the outside bus doors. A voice that's calling you. A voice that you most definitely would run to if given the opportunity, a chance that excludes coughing and hurting and crying
-and dying.
Ignoring the whispers and talks of the three other passengers inside the vehicle, you avert you tearful sight from and to the driver's concerned gaze as you send a small forced smile his way, meekly stating,
"I don't have any cash on me, but I'm dying in 30 days. You'll let me ride, won't you sir?"
You remember that eventful day, exactly five days ago, one hundred and twenty hours since you had avoided any association with Jimin.
He's contacted you endlessly, knocked on your door several times and even stayed outside your apartment overnight during one weekend, and each time you had luckily spent it over at your brother's. The times he went there though, you were gone and so was Namjoon, leaving him calling out to your brother’s empty studio apartment.
Five days without fits of vicious coughing, yet five days without him.
Is that the sacrifice you have to make to be healthy?
Then, would that be the sacrifice you'd have to make to live?
"Jimin called me."
"AH- Kamchakya!" Your thoughts are finally cut off as you jump at the sound of both your brother's voice and the slam of the door. Stumbling backwards, you barely get the chance to hold your balance as your hand clutches your clothed chest, visibly startled at your brother's sudden presence.
Namjoon had entered your apartment nonchalantly as he shut the door close behind him with no more than a small smack, yet his strength effects the opposite of what is intended.
Eyes widened, you attempt to catch your loss of breath before bending down completely, hands now placed on both knees, "Joon what the hell?! You couldn't have knocked?" Turning aside, you conquest onto throwing the first thing you could find at the genius which he opposingly catches without a beat, throwing the tablecloth right back at you easily as he takes small steps forward, mumbling a small apology afore repeating his previous words, "Sorry. Jimin called me. For the tenth time in five days, may I add."
Rolling your eyes at his bluntness, you contrastingly fail to catch what you once threw as you walk a couple steps back, grabbing the now dirty item and attempting to hide the way your chest tightened by the mere mention of Jimin's name.
"Jimin called you. Congratulations. Would you like an award, big foot?" You joke accordingly.
Now stood up in the kitchen, Namjoon leads on to making himself at home through the means of providing himself something to eat, attempting to hide a small smile dragging its way onto his face out of gladness in finding that his little sister is not letting some pathetic disease affect her overall personality.
"Big foot? That's a new one." Reaching for the bread and peanut-butter, he calmly makes himself a sandwich, as that is the only food he can prepare without failure, all the while strategically conversing in a serious talk with you, "But don't play dumb with me, y/n. You know Jimin and I aren't on good terms right now. Since..." Namjoon trails off, wanting to obviously avoid the topic of your illness.
You sigh, chest heaving as this doesn't go unnoticed by you, of course. Yet not wanting to go down that path in the early morning either, you choose to passively ignore the way he quickly averted his eyes away from you and let him continue.
Clearing his throat surreptitiously, Namjoon proceeds to act indifferent towards the newly formed tension, "-anyway, he and I aren't okay yet but he's still called me for the tenth time, and I finally answered. You're telling me you aren't even a tiny bit curious on what Jimin and I spoke about?"
You've now sat yourself on the kitchen counter, careful not to hit your head on the overtops as you habitually clean up the mess your older brother had habitually started on creating, "I'm not curious, Joonie, because I don't need to ask."
"Mhm, is that so?" Namjoon turns around to look at you, his head somewhat tilted sideways as he proceeds to happily munch away his sloppy and disgusting-looking meal, "You already know what he said then?"
Neatly putting away all the ingredients of which your brother has taken out, you begin to shift in your spot as you look down at your now wobbling feet which you noticed have too begun to unconsciously shift and play with one-another.
You respond hesitantly, letting out another sigh, "Probably asking how I'm doing? Telling you to say sorry to me for him? A bunch of sappy stuff, I bet. He didn't even do anything wrong."
Smiling every so slightly, Namjoon nods his head meekly as he makes his way to the fridge in order to grab some water, throwing his sandwich in the trash bin in the process, "Yeah.." he pauses before chuckling softly, "-that's our Jimin.. Holy shit that sandwich was fucking disgusting by the way. Aish-" He curses before pouring some of the cool liquid on a glass and desperately chugging it down, tears forming around his eyes as he scoffs in distaste.
Confused and surprised, you check to see the bread if its begun to form any mold, which you find none.
"Huh, I wonder why. The bread is good." You say just before stepping off of the counter carefully, "-can't believe you managed to fuck up a sandwich, Joon. You really do suck at cooking, don't you? Well I guess, food in general." You addingly joke, which Namjoon, in contrast, takes complete and total offense to.
Yet just as he is about to bark back at you with a Nobel Prize winning poetic insult, you unintentionally proceed, therefore cutting him off.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure to leave you the recipes of your favorites before I leave, okay?"
Smiling at him innocently, you find no flaw in your choice of words, making your brother's heart ache without warning as you look up at him with a tilted head.
"I know how much you love my cooking anyway, no matter how many times you claim that you don't." You laugh lightheartedly, "I might forget though, since I forget everything- but hey, Jimin cooks a little bit too, so just go to him whenever you miss my cooking, yeah? I know you guys fight a lot but please try not to once I'm g- mph!"
Pausing, your voice is unexpectedly muffled as your lips come in sudden contact with your brother's shoulder, completely quieting you down.
Taking a moment to fully comprehend such an unforeseen situation, it wins a small while for you to come to notice that he has completely submerged yourself in a tight embrace, both arms wrapped around your waist as his chin is placed right on top of your head.
You didn't know how to react.
It is without a doubt that you and Namjoon are close, don't get this wrong. And furthermore are there the endless comforting shoulder rubs and thoughtful words of advice from time to time, but a hug? A hug is usually where the two of you draw the line, both finding an unspoken mutual perspective on personal space.
So to find yourself in his position, with both your hands up in the air by the side of his waists as you remain frozen from the abrupt fright, you remain still, the only thought being in your head is how the last time that the two of you practically hugged this long was back from your parents' passing.
That being thirteen years ago.
Namjoon, on the other hand, does not give a flying fuck as he feels nothing but yearn for you. Your previous words has caused something inside of him to trigger and suddenly feel a certain lack of your warmth and existence, which he hates.
Don't worry, I'll make sure to leave you the recipes of your favorites before I leave, okay?
That's exactly what you had just said.
-please try not to once I'm gone.
You would have added.
His mind is in disarray, his medicinal IQ of 148 fading into an 8 as his thoughts are gathered in shambles, trying so desperately to rid of the now forming vision of a future without your not-so-bad-but-not-good-either cooking, a future without your Namjoon please get a liscense nagging, a future without your unbearable teasing, a future without-
a future without you.
How could he wake up to a future that's missing his little sister?
Namjoon is an orphan now. You both have been for thirteen years. The orphaned doctor, he would sometimes call himself.
And thirteen years ago, this orphaned doctor swore as he looked upon his parents' opened casket for the last time that he will never abandon his sister. Thirteen years ago, this orphaned doctor cried as he smiled against the clear plastic on his dead mother's pale box, swearing under oath that he could never let an accident take his sister away too. Thirteen years ago, this orphaned doctor choked back tears as his hands leave prints against the plastic of his father's case, promising to keep the strength he trusts his dad would have asked of him to endure. Thirteen years ago, this orphaned doctor painfully smiled as he kneeled down and looked at you, your black gloves of mourning beginning to dampen as stains become visible from your attempts of wiping away your brother’s tears.
Thirteen years ago, Namjoon mentally vowed in his deceased father and mother's name to always prioritize you first, determined in a future of being his little sister’s hero as he lastly placed a bouquet of soft pink camellia flowers on top of his parents' shared grave, squeezing your smaller hand intertwined with his.
Thirteen years ago, he was only thirteen, yet he had been the father and the mother and the brother his eight-year old sister needed.
Namjoon didn’t realize when he started crying.
At this point, the both of you are now on the floor, the age difference having been confusing as you are the one cradling you older brother tenderly.
Your once frozen hands are now soft and delicately wrapped around his back, rubbing in circular motions as you mouth words of comfort against his ear. Dampness could be felt on your shoulder down to your chest as your brother maneuvers while sobbing silently, head now seemingly permanent on the base of your neck.
Does being sick always come with scenes like this? You think to yourself.
"Shh, Joon. C'mon it's okay. Shh, it's alright," You coo softly, your own tears subsiding as you don't care of much other than your brother's current distress, "Joonie, c'mon. Seeing you like this is breaking my heart."
Okay scratch that, your tears aren't subsiding, they're sliding.
"Joonie..." You whisper softly yet desperately, wanting nothing more than to console your brother ever so leniently, "-please stop crying."
Suddenly, you feel Namjoon halt as he abruptly pushes away from you at an arms length, hands holding both sides of your shoulder as his reddened eyes direct yours before making the suggestion,
"Get the surgery."
Truly, that was not the right time to bring up the surgery, of this Namjoon is certain.
And to be honest, he doesn't even have a clue whether there is a right time to bring up the surgery. But he's become overwhelmed and desperate, wanting nothing more than to guarantee your life be saved. So although the timing doesn't match, he allows the situation to happen and chooses to not take back his previous words, instead facing whatever you decide to let on. Fate shall take its course.
Caught aback, you look at your brother bewilderedly, "What?"
"Get the surgery, y/n." He sniffingly repeats, nose still red and mouth still dry from his previous and still cooling breakdown.
"What are you talking about, Joon?” You smile slightly, eyebrows knitted and confused. “What surgery?"
"y/n," Namjoon begins, voice short and desperate, "I told you about this, didn't I? I was training for medicine a few years ago, yeah? I was an intern volunteering. My superior's patient had the disease, th- the Hanahaki disease, right?" Namjoon speaks relentlessly as he becomes breathless, looking slightly crazy as he rambles over a particular memory which you have no recollection of discussing with him.
"His name was Jung Hoseok, one of the first ten Hanahaki surgery recipients. He survived, y/n. The surgery was a complete success. He's alive even to now and I also still have his contact saved in my phone. Look-"
"Wait wait wait," You shake your head, hands coming to stop his phone-reaching hands all the while trying to process the vast information suddenly provided, "-the Hanahaki surgery? The surgery you did a Science project on that I helped you with during your senior high school year? F-flower Chowder? The Flower Power?" You finish, grinning at the newly found memory yet just moments before frowning entirely,
"Joon, you're telling me to get the Flower Power?"
Namjoon inhales a short intake of breath as he looks down and shuts his eyes, dreading the soon-to-be-happening conversation, "I know this seems crazy but-"
"Yeah no shit, it's crazy."
"Just hear me out oka-"
"This is really bat-shit off the walls crazy, Kim Namjoon!"
"-it's medicine, y/n. It's not really crazy-"
"medicine. my. ass."
"-it's been successful each time it was performed, and-"
"Joon just stop it!"
"-it's the only way to save your damn life!"
With wide eyes you blankingly stare at him, scoffing in disbelief at his sudden raise of voice, "Save my life? Then what? I go to live like a fucking robot for all eternity? Lose all my emotions and live as some kind of cyborg? We aren't in a fucking sci-fi movie, Joon!"
Processing your words, Namjoon does understand your point; but he's become helpless, the helplessness making him reckless, the recklessness making him desperate, and the desperation leaving no room for understanding your point, "A robot is still alive, y/n."
All in all, a reckless mess.
"A robot is still al- what?! Joon, are you hearing yourself?" You speak incredulously.
No, truth to be told, Namjoon is not hearing himself.
"I don't know what you think this, but I am not about to turn into some kind of sim with no feelings. Both you and I know that I would rather die as I live than live as I exist to be nothing more than just that, existing." You speak threateningly, "Don't you ever make me go through that, Joon. Not even as a last resort and not even when I'm not awake anymore to defend my point."
Holding up your right pinky finger, you raise your eyebrows, staring at him expectantly, "Promise me."
Namjoon glances down at your raised finger, jaw clenched and gaze hesitant. Yet just as he proceeds to reach forward in order to seal the deal, he speaks one last time, defeated, "And what if it is the last resort, y/n?"
You look at him, eyes downcast as you begin to subconsciously lower your hand as he continues, "What if you're moments away from leaving me? What do I do? Do I just let you die? Do you really expect me to just let you die even wh- when there's an option to take where you can live?" Namjoon is breathless as he speaks, voice desperate in convincing you.
Sighing, you lower your head slightly, "Joon, I already told you that I'm okay. I'm ready. I've accepted it-"
"But I haven't." Namjoon cuts you off, his words serving a stab at your heart.
"I haven't accepted it. I won't accept it." He takes hold of both your hands, lowering his height so that the two of you are on same eye level afore smiling sadly, "I've lost both our parents, y/n. I've accepted that. I've lived with that. But you can't ask me to accept losing you either because I don't think I'll be able to keep myself sane without you around. I need you, y/n. You're my sister, my anchor, God, you're my lifeline. You've kept me going for these past thirteen years, and I love you. I love you so so so so much, nae yeodongsaeng." He finishes, your heart crumbling at the sight of his flooding eyes.
"And I'm sorry if this is somewhat unfair to you, but please." Namjoons cries out, voice barely above a whisper as he sheds diring tears, "-please choose to try. Choose to try to live.
-If not for you, please do it for me."
"Fuck you Namjoon." You curse mutteringly, voice low and steady as you stand in front of Jimin's door for the past ten minutes.
You twist and turn like a little child as you curse mentally, feeling dread throughout your entire physicality and not at all wanting to continue with your plan. Nonetheless, you remind yourself of your brother's desperation and of your reasons for doing this.
For your brother, you cheer on.
"Okay. Okay! I can do this." You jump up and down, feet bouncing lightly against the hard ground, repeating the same phrase over and over again, "I can do this."
Turning to knock, your mind then suddenly flushes with dread as you subconsciously retreat back to your car, hands waving frantically around, "I can't do this."
"y/n?"
You freeze.
Fuck.
Hands still amidst the air, you stay still, unbelieving of the situation.
"y/n? What are you- is that you? Am I seeing shit right now?" He mumbles the last words to himself, which he silently thanks goes unbeknownst to you as you stay frozen, feet glued onto the ground and heart beating out of your chest at the familiar sound of his voice.
Hesitating, you muster up the determination to slowly turn around.
Your throat tightens once more all the while your heart contrastingly does backflips as you physically see him for the first time since five days and-or one hundred and twenty hours and-or a very painful long time for someone who's in love with someone.
"Hey, Chim." You meekly call out, trying to hide the anxiety creeping in within you.
Jimin, still processing your presence after countless failure of trying to see you, steps forward lightly, eyebrows furrowed as he evidently attempts to figure out the right words to say, "Hey."
"Hey." You wince as you attempt a grin.
Jimin's lips form a tight smile, "Hey."
.
.
.
Shit, this is so awkward.
The thought enters the both of your minds as a seemingly unprecedented tumbleweed passes by.
Clearing your throat, you notice the way Jimin looks down at his fiddling thumbs and curious little pinkies as you speak out once more, trying to ease the visible tension, "So are you going to invite me in or what?" You laugh breathily, chest heaving up and down in desperation of holding in those God-awful petals.
Jimin looks up at you with wide eyes, breathing a sigh of relief as he nods his head repeatedly, "Right- right! Yeah come in. This is your home too, you know." He speaks as he holds out his keys and turn to unlock his door, not noticing the way you've weakened among with the just fallen petal that silently wisped past your lips.
This is your home too, you know.
It's insane how such light words could make a person feel so lost and contracted.
Seven simple words that were spoken without a thought have you in a dazed mentality, hand tighteningly gripping your clothed heart before faking a positive expression as he turns around to face you.
"You can head inside first." Jimin shows that beautiful smile, moving aside as he lays his hand out in the direction of his now opened abode.
You only nod in return as you waste no time in entering, mumbling a small 'thanks chim' as you pass by.
He then follows soon after, set and determined on making you feel at home as he steps forward.
Yet a sight goes inevitable as your head spins around a moment barely passing as you enter his home, catching the vision of Jimin accidentally stepping on the camellia flower, the fragment that symbolizes your unrequited love, your pain, which lay on the timid ground, cracking it in half.
It seems the universe really is telling you something.
You ponder to yourself as you gaze wanderingly, the now torn petal not leaving your sight.
Smiling ironically, the formidable occurence somehow boosts your acceptance of the situation at hand as you make your way to the sofa, speaking aloud even more so formidable words, "We need to talk, Jimin."
Just moments before sitting down, Jimin remains still, eyes glazing at you directly for a second before gathering himself and proceeding to act indifferent, "Of course."
Jimin. He thinks.
Not chim, Jimin.
"Jimin I-"
"No please-" Jimin cuts you off as you begin to speak, "Please let me say first what I've been keeping inside for this past week of being avoided by you."
You didn't know whether you were supposed to take offense or not, yet nonetheless you decide
"-just wanted to let you know that I'm getting surgery."
I can't believe she's calling me Ji- "What?"
You smile empathetically, "I'm getting surgery, Jimin."
part 3, maybe?
taglist: @itsdingdong @honeyd99 @010op10 @chubsjmin @outropjmm @nynhope
when the camellia blooms | pjm
sypnosis: diagnosed with the hanahaki disease, you had only two options - accept a deathly fate, or never love again.
genre: au, angst, fluff, humor, friends to lovers? maybe.
warnings: many talks of death and dying, minor character death, pain, unrequited love, swearing, talks of past sexual experience while intoxicated, pining, longing, really sad reader, and lots of angst.
word count: 7.2 k
"you would die for her, for him."
"You're dying."
The two words escape past his lips steadily and breathily as your widening eyes linger on the way his hands fiddle with one another out of habit. He sighs deeply and resists the urge to avoid screaming at you and maintain eye contact out of professionalism, pushing back his slipping glasses.
"At this rate, you won't have any more than a month. Had you told me this sooner, y/n, the results wouldn't have been as scarce. But because you waited after almost a year of this, I'm afraid there's not much to do." He pushes his desk lightly to pull away from it, creating a mere distance between himself and the papers which finalized your future's passing. Reaching his collar, he tugs on his tie to loosen it before unbuttoning the first stitch as he looks at you with seemingly stray and angered eyes mixed with sympathy.
Suddenly, his sight wanders the room as he shakes his head repeatedly, scoffing in disbelief. He then smiles, dimples prominent, lip tightened, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes broken, piercing straight at its target - that being you.
Standing up, he takes off his glasses and slams his fist onto the chair's arm rest before running a hand across his hair, softly hissing.
The professionalism is now out of the drain, "You're an idiot, y/n."
"Fucking stupid. How could you not- I mean- how could you not tell me? I'm your brother! We're family. Blood. We're supposed to- we're supposed to tell each other these things and you just fucking- you kept it to yourself all these months! Ten months! And now I'm sitting here being the one to tell you that you're dying? That you're leaving me? I would've done something. I would've helped you, I- I would've killed whoever this person you're in love with is. y/n, please- I just-"
You don't know why, but you felt exhausted.
The ringing in your ears is deafening. Truthfully, you hadn't heard a single thing the minute you received news that you'll be, well, passing away. Not to mention, within 30 days time.
It's not as if you didn't already know about your condition, of course you did. Coughing soft pink camellia flowers every time you see the man that's brought you here is not exactly something that just simply passes a blind eye. You sense it, you feel it, and it hurts.
It really, really hurts.
You also felt awful for your brother. You hadn't meant for it to go this far. You didn't mean to not tell him. You didn't want your assigned doctor to suddenly call in sick and have your brother temporarily take his place. You didn't mean for him to find out this way - such a twisted, horrible fucking way, but here you are.
"I'm sorry, Joon. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to go this far. I just-"
"Were you ever even going to tell me?" He cuts you off, voice low and steady, almost afraid of your coming response.
Your eyes locate his across the cramped room, and one could clearly tell that it's striving its hardest to fight against desperate tears.
"I- yes, Joon. I was. Of course I was. I was gonna do it after this check in actually, but I guess God wanted you to find out sooner than I intended, though He could've just waited a little while longer and it would've been fine." You joke whisperingly, the heavy weight of your heart lightening just a small bit when you notice the corners of his lips twitch and his eyes faintly soften.
Regrettably, that was a lie. You didn’t plan on telling him, not today at least. Maybe not even ever.
The softening air lasts for only a second as his following question makes you hold back the urge to cough up another camellia flower slowly blooming its way to your throat.
"Who is it?"
Genuine, concerned, curious. These were all that he was.
But noticing the way your body went entirely rigid at his words and the way your hand clutched your clothed chest in attempt to shut down what you know will happen next, Namjoon's brotherly instincts causes him to naturally make his way towards you softly, taking small and careful strides towards your fragile state.
And once he's finally reached you, he gets on his knees gently in order for him to be of nearing same height level as you're sitting down, his hands rubbing the back of your hand in a comforting manner.
He does this all before pulling the trigger.
"Who are you in love with, y/n?"
two years back
"Jimin!"
You call out your brother's best friend loudly, who is currently in the midst of doing a one-man stage play in front of the mirror, "Joon's saying you guys need to get going now. Says he has a patient in two hours and wants to go over all sorts of documents before treating her."
Turning around, you scan the living room and dining room for the keys of your friend's car as your brother also asked you to hand them to him since the two always end up on forgetting it until they've already reached the car parked across your apartment's block.
You hear Jimin shuffle behind you, "Really? He wants to go over documents at- 9 AM in the morning?"
Smiling at his attempts of complaint, you nod your head softly in order to play along and answer his rhetorical question, "He really needs to learn how to drive doesn't he? Since he's dragging you along everywhere he goes."
Jimin laughs at your statement, which being an opinion, your brother would argue, 'driving isn't a necessary aspect of life.' But who really thinks like that? Oh right, non-drivers.
“I guess he’s getting too caught up in learning medicine that he forgot to learn how to officially become an adult.” Reaching above the kitchen top, you finally found sight of Jimin's car keys.
How did it even get up there? You think to yourself. It's really high up, so Namjoon must've been the one to leave it as to where it is.
You groan slightly, "Joon, can you get over here! I found Chim's keys but it's too far up high so I can't reach it. Hell I don't even think he can reach this-"
You are cut off when you feel a hand sneak around your waist, making you flinch and suddenly spin cautiously.
Eyes widened. Lips parted. Breath hitched. You let out an inaudible gasp as you come to the realization that Jimin is now in front of you, head tilted with an amused smile on his face, "Excuse you? I can very much reach this." He says, all the while reaching up behind you, inchly leaning forward. At this point, your body is being pressed up against the kitchen counter and his oh-so-very toned front.
This small action is enough to instigate a flaming abyss inside of you as you very much attempt to calm your alarmed heart.
You can feel the cuts and lines of his abs against your chest as he is now standing on his tippy toes, desperately trying to reach the keys on the kitchen top. Anyone that could see his posture would call him adorable, but your body is currently being sandwiched and by all that is high and mighty your mind can't even really process a single thing. Wait, what were you thinking just now?
"See? Got it." Jimin falls back in place as he jiggles his car keys in front of your stone-cold face, smile wide as he giggles softly, "Piece of cake, y/n."
He then proceeds to move on with his life like he didn't just do what the fuck he just did.
Clearing your throat, you blink about a million times in order to gather your thoughts. Your heartbeat is racing faster than the speed of light and your lips have become as dry as a desert. If you had gone standing on your tippy toes just as he did, you would've been a baby hair away from lips touching. The thought is enough to make you grow weak.
Yet as if something inside of you is suddenly turned on, no pun intended, you remind yourself that these thoughts are wrong. You can't be having these apprehensions, they aren't right. Because not only is he your brother's best friend, he also has a-
"y/n?" Jimin's soft voice calls out your name.
Breaking out of your trance, you turn to see him sitting down on the dining table, head tilted downwards with a small smile on his face. The sun escapes your pastel curtains as it slips past the window sill, reasoning with the current ray of golden yellow that has found its home on Jimin’s plump cheek, shining on the left side of his luminous face.
It's absolutely senseless how he can look as beautiful as he does simply by existing, and it makes perfect sense that your finding yourself to liking him more and more.
Just look at him.
You are broken out of your enchanted daze once more as dreaded words leave his smiling lips, "I'm gonna ask her to marry me."
Only then were you brought back to your inadequate reality.
“W- what?” You attempt to speak, but you notice the way your voice has suddenly become noticeably hoarse.
Jimin looks up at you with a smile, the kind that has his eyes almost disappearing.
“Sung. I’m gonna ask her to marry me tonight.”
silence.
silence.
and more silence.
Like a coward, that was all what you could muster to respond with.
And only then did you notice the velvet box on his hands, upon which he is tenderly caressing. Only then did you recognize the questionable romantic script of his one-man stage just moments earlier. Only then did you realize that the reason behind his growing smile are because of her, not you. Not because of what had just taken place.
Only then did you remember that no, you can't be having these apprehensions - they aren't right.
Because not only is he your brother's best friend,
he also has a, now upcoming, fiancé.
present time
"I already loved him then, Joon."
By this time, your brother has stood up and begun pacing back and forth the modest office, murmurs of curses towards his friend escaping past his lips, "-that small son of a bitch."
Smiling softly, you look down in reminiscence of the moments you have spent falling for Jimin. "I guess I've always been infatuated with him ever since our first meeting, but my God Joonie," you pause, inhaling a short breath in attempt to stop tears threatening to spill. "-ever since that day, when he told me that he was going to propose to her, I finally realized that like was the wrong term to use. I realized that I loved him and I just- I lost sight of everything." You cry, small sobs coming from you as you blinkingly look up to try to contain the waters forming in your eyes.
It was true. That day, when he told you about his plans to ask her to marry him, you've never felt more indignant.
Of course you faked it at first, congratulated him and consoled him into truthfully believing that she will undoubtedly say yes. But the minute he and Namjoon left your apartment, you collapsed on your carpeted floors, sobbing loudly and hitting your chest repetitively all the while cursing yourself in your head for ever even considering the tiniest of possibilities that you and Jimin could ever happen.
You also went out that night, got drunk, found a guy, slept with him, and never looked back.
Sure, this may seem like a regular night out for many, but not being the type to kiss and sleep, sex meant a lot to you.
Nothing wrong with one night stands, that just wasn't your particular chosen lifestyle. But you were wasted. You were intoxicated. You didn't know what you were doing. Had you been sober, you wouldn't have done what you did, especially with the person you did it with. So when you woke up in the middle of the night naked in bed next to a familiar face and realized what you've done, you rushingly stood up, got dressed, and left, ignoring the calls of the man you had just been with.
You went straight home and washed yourself for hours, feeling dirty and sloppy and disgusting. You can easily recollect sitting down in the showers, head tucked underneath and in between your legs, sobbing and crying loudly as the steam surrounding you from the warm water kept on worsening.
You hated what you did, and you most definitely despised the reason for what you did, - to simply get over someone else. You felt guilty. You felt ashamed. What would Jimin think? You thought to yourself. And though that truly didn't really matter, the ache in your heart kept on making you believe otherwise.
You didn't notice how your tears have fallen and stained your newly-bought jeans until Namjoon's hands holding a napkin comes within your perception.
Mumbling a small 'sorry Joonie,' you accept his offer and wipe the tears still continuously streaming down your now reddened, warm, and puffy face. As you do this, you furthermore catch sight of your brother's shadow rubbing his face in frustration, matching the groans that you also hear release from him in the background. And without meaning so, you deflate in insecurity.
Hearing the sound of air being released from a pulling force, you look up to see that Namjoon has sat back down, his elbows resting on the desk while his chin rest on his hands. "Does he know about this, y/n?"
You sigh, "No."
"Are you going to tell him?" You hear him ask once more.
Closing your eyes and sniffing lightly, you inhale a steady breath as you answer him for the second time, "I don't know, Joon."
Namjoon looks at you, eyes full of worry and concern. You don't know?
You're his sister, and he loves you. He would do anything for you. If he could shower you with all the love that you lack from Jimin, he would. And he would do it in a heartbeat. But you're dying. You're leaving him. And he doesn't know what to think. He doesn't know what to do. So how could you not know? How could you sit here, in front of him, after keeping this shit for ten months to yourself, tell him that you just don't know?
He feels frustrated. Frustrated over the clearing fact that if you don't know the answer to that simple yes or no question, then how more could you know the answer to when he asks you to make the choice?
The choice - to love or to die.
A very careful, unprecedented surgery that has been performed by professionals only a few times, yet each one has been successful. This seems easy, yeah. A surgery to save your life? Of course you'll do it! But there's a reason as to why this has been done only by a certain small count.
To perform the surgery and live, the price is not the expense, but rather the loneliness that shall come as you spend the rest of your life void of emotions. The surgery doesn't get rid of love on its own, it gets rid of everything that comes with it - happiness, sadness, trust, pain, pretty much everything that one can possibly feel. The only emotion left is indifference, yet even indifference lacks its self-sustainability.
Who would want to live like that?
Who would want to live a life where you just simply exist and nothing more?
He knows that the day will come eventually - when he offers you the choice, the chance to save your life, and he knows it will come soon. But right now, he has chosen to prioritize being a brother over a doctor. Right now, the only thing in his mind is comforting you.
"Okay." Your brother nods, making your eyes widen slightly in shock.
Okay? No scolding? No 'how could you not know?!' older brother reprimands? But then you remember, oh yeah. You're dying. And who could possibly scold their dying little sister?
"I'm sorry Joonie-" You try to apologize once more before he cuts you off again.
"No, don't apologize, y/n. It's not like you could've possibly wanted for any of this to happen, yeah?" He offers you a smile, but you could easily see past its fabricated purpose, "But instead let me ask you this. And I need you, in our deceased parent's name, to be completely honest with me."
You only nod, completely submissive and understanding of his seriousness the moment that he mentioned your passed parents.
"What you just told me, when you first fell in love with him, that was two years ago." He starts, making you nod again in agreement.
"But you were diagnosed only ten months ago."
Your heart drops, and you don't nod again.
"The Hanahaki Disease is not something that gradually begins and comes to existence over the course of time. It is an illness that is triggered. It could be by a sudden forthcoming realization or proclamation of love, or by an event that triggers the heart to completely shut down in overwhelmth. Either way, basing on the timing of what you've said, you should've been diagnosed with the Hanahaki two years ago. But you weren't."
Namjoon eyes you questioningly, but not too much to the extent that you feel uncomfortable, only just enough to remind you of the importance of this conversation, "You were only diagnosed ten months ago, y/n. Why?"
You sit still, not wanting to move, as if your stone figure would somehow make him think that you're not real or that you're a simple figment of his messed up imagination.
"y/n, what happened ten months ago?"
He finishes his question and you swallow harshly only to realize that you're parched, your throat completely dry. You then tilt your head to steal a gaze at your brother, making you catch the way his eyes suddenly widened as if he just realized something of high importance. As if he had just realized the answer to his own question. And that didn't work with you.
Clearing your throat, you are about to answer him in order to cut off his thoughts until the door swings open and you feel your throat compact, - the coughs of a camellia flower slipping its way to visibility -because there he is,
the man of the hour.
"y/n." He noticeably breathes a sigh of relief before making his way to you, engulfing you in a giant embrace. "I was so worried about you. Why didn't you tell me you had the Hanahaki? How could you not let me know? How long have you had it? Who is it? I swear I'm going to murder whoever this piece of shit is that he dared ever making yo-"
"Jimin this is a professional space between a doctor and his patient." The two of you pull away almost exactly the same time as soon as Namjoon speaks up, Jimin's eyebrows furrowing, "Get out."
"What?" Jimin barely gather the voice to ask him as he is completely caught off guard of his friend's erupting vulgar attitude.
"I said-" Namjoon speaks before getting caught off again.
"No trust me, I heard what you said. But what?" Jimin repeats himself, "So you're telling me you're not prioritizing being y/n's brother right now? You're still caught up in this Doctor Kim bullshit? Like you're a real one?"
"Jimin-" You attempt to budge in, sensing that a certain trouble may suddenly come knocking.
"No, y/n. Listen hyung-"
"No, YOU listen. You small piece of shit." Your brother raises his voice, "-don't come barging in here like you own the place or like you have any authority over her. She is MY sister and this is a family matter. So it's best you stay out of it and keep in your lane."
At this point, Namjoon is in front of Jimin, a short distance separating the two of them, "And don't you ever dare speak to me in that tone again. I know you're my friend, but remember to treat me with respect. Not only am I your superior, but I'm also your hyung." He finishes with a serious voice, tone low, and message deep. His earnest eyes piercing through his friend's pained ones.
Jimin, mouth slightly agape being at loss for words and clearly confused at his close friend's unreasonable anger, storms out of the room.
But not before he drags you along with him.
Namjoon is quick to act as he tries to reach for you, but you turn back and look at him pleadingly, signaling him that it's okay and to not worry. And him being the understanding brother that he is, pulls back and holds himself steady.
You can handle him. You’re a Kim. You’re strong.
Strong enough to survive through this.
You’ll be okay.
And as he watches the two of you leave, the door closing shut right in front of him, only then does reality hit Namjoon as his legs tremble abruptly, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden.
Falling down the floor, he reaches onto the desk for assistance as he slides his back down the wooden wall, hands painfully fisted and finding its way to cover his mouth in order to muffle the choked-in sobs perilously escaping him. He proceeds to blink away the tears and bite harshly on his lips, trying to diminish the flourishing grievance in his heart.
His sister is dying, and he doesn't know what to do.
“Doctor Kim? The next patient is ready to see you.” A knocking nurse distracts him and calls out from behind the door, “-shall I send them in?”
Namjoon sniffs heavily and sighs deeply, rushingly grabbing his glasses and adjusting his emotionally wrecked state, “One moment!”
He lets out a soft, shaky breath and reminds himself once more that you’re a Kim.
You’re strong.
You can beat this.
It'll be alright.
You'll be okay.
"IM NOT OKAY JIMIN-SHI!" You voicely whine out to your friend who is currently dragging you along the halls of the hospital and out the technologically advanced glass doors, "What is wrong with you?!" You pull your arm aggressively from his grasp as you bend down, hands resting on your knees while you hastily try to catch your breath. The camellia flower stuck just along the chords of your throat making it very difficult.
Jimin stares at you worryingly, having forgotten of your illness, "O- oh no. y/n, I'm sorry I forgot I- are you okay? Should we go back?" He stutters in concern before you hold up one finger, signaling him to shut the hell up. "-sorry."
Looking at you like this, tired and exhausted from having to put up with all his bullshit, Jimin feels a sudden urge to reach out and embrace you tightly, almost forgetting of his previous encounter with your brother.
And so that's exactly what he does.
You are caught off guard the moment you feel a hand grab your shoulder by means of pulling you closer all the while another rests just at your crook of spine, and although this first makes you stumble in a not-so-very prettily way, your destination is found to be in your friend's embrace, his fragile yet protective arms wrapped around you securely.
Not letting this moment simply pass by, you let yourself melt in his arms as you find the comfort meant to be found in his comforting hug, wrapping your arms around his neck as you slightly stand on your tippy toes. Somehow, your simple action makes him pull you even closer, one hand creeping behind your neck all the while his other is completely wrapped around your waist although this time is tighter than before.
As the two of you stay like this in the middle of the sliding glass doors of the hospital, crowds of unfamiliar voices passing by you and ambulances ringing endlessly against your ear, you let yourself submerge within the passion of your heart.
Amidst the chaos and cries of your nearingly counted days, you find consolation in the arms of the same man that has put you in front of death's door, and quite frankly, you wouldn't really want it any other way. You'll take what is given by the heavens above when it comes to Jimin, because well- you love him.
Unfortunately, that quick and simple thought is enough to make you lose control of your reminded disease.
"y-y/n what's- are you okay?" Jimin pulls away from you abruptly as you break into coughing fits, pastel pink camellia blossoms escaping your trembling lips.
The sight has caught the attention of many civilians, but both you and Jimin remain to be indifferent about them as you or more or less are occupied with your illness all the while Jimin specifically aims his attention on you alone.
"Alright that's it, screw your brother alright?" Jimin exclaims a bit louder than what you're comfortable with as this obviously did not benefit with the proceedingly growing public focus on the two of you, "-we're going back, y/n, it's my fault for bringing you outside so suddenly-"
"No chim, please-" You roughly attempt to speak out, your throat painfully extracting the feeling of abrasiveness, "Please just- let's just go."
"y/n.."
“Please chim,” you cut him off for what seemed to be the fiftieth time, coughing, “-please. I don’t want to be here any longer.”
Hesistant yet concerned, Jimin nods slowly as he assists your side, his hands finding its home around your waist and lower back while you both take short and careful strides. You destination is still unknown, but you didn’t mind. A journey a day with someone you love has never turned out for the worse.
At least that's what you think.
"Really?" You roll your eyes as you notice the familiar lane that Jimin's car just entered, "I asked you to get me out of the hospital area, I didn't ask for a sleepover, Jimin." You jokingly accuse him, but you can't help the smile that makes its way on your puffed-up face as you notice him smoothly take a side-glance at you with a knowing smirk.
"Well I thought that with all that bad hospital air, you might've wanted to breathe in a familiar scent," Jimin responds as the car comes to a stop.
You turn slightly to open the door and step out before you here a meek, "Jankkanman!" and perceive a 5'9 in height blondie come running around the bonnet in order to open the car door for you as a gentleman would. It is such a sweet and casual pantomime, yet an ill-patient diagnosed with an illness of the heart can never bring you any wins. Consequently, his actions only causes your throat to feel strained and compacted for the endless time.
God, how much did you love this man that such a simple gesture makes you want to cough out countless of fully bloomed flowers?
You thank the heavens above for your past endless experiences that allowed you to now be better in terms of hiding your pain as you attempt to smile genuinely, mumbling a small "thank you" in the process before making your way inside his home.
"So," Jimin starts as the two of you plop down his couch, his eyes seeking for yours as he tilts his head ever so lightly, "what should we do today... now that you're out of that hell hole?"
"Chim!" You scold him lightly, "my brother and your best friend just happens to be working in that hell hole, just in case you forgot, and- hey! You work there too, you ass." You accusingly point at him all the while hitting his arm playfully.
Jimin is was a nurse in that hospital. Your brother is a doctor.
He laughs and smiles widely, "Nope. I don't work there anymore, remember? But I did for a while, which is why I can most definitely testify that that place is indeed, a hell hole. And by the way, I'm kind of offended that you pretty much forgot my lost profession just then, y/n, like what the fuck?" He jokes endingly.
Your eyes soften slightly as he mentions his lack of job, yet you still stubbornly choose to ignore his last remark. "Well I sure hope that's not the case since I'll be most likely spending my last days there."
Oops.
The silence that ensues goes inevitably noticed by the two of you the moment those words escaped past your lips, but you paid no mind. That was the reason that you asked him to take you away anyways. You weren't hoping for some cliche romantic bullshit where the two of you simply elope and forget your real worries in your life, no. Instead you were here with the main purpose of facing it.
Besides, even if you did want to leave with him, you couldn't. Remember?
Jimin is the first to break the excessive blockade, "Don't say that y/n."
You sigh, "But it's true, chim."
"I don't give a shit if it's true or not."
"Chim.." You are slightly startled with his sudden outburst, caught off guard in the way his voice slightly raised as his attention and body language are now completely directed at you, "Wha- why are you getting mad?"
Jimin scoffs, almost irritated at your oblivious question, "Why? Because you're talking of dying like it's not a big deal, y/n!" His voice getting louder and louder by every word he spits out, "God, you know you can be so fucking insensitive sometimes. What, did you already forget the shit I suffered when I lost someone? Did you already forget all the fucking shit I suffered when death took her from me?"
At the mention of her, you pause. Speechless. Guilty. Hurt.
Of course you remember. How could you not? You remember the darkest of days as like it was just yesterday.
You remember getting that call in the middle of the night from the contact name of your brother as you slightly answered it in an irritated voice, "Joon I swear to God if you're asking me to drive you to work in the middle of the fucking night I will personally drag your ass right now to get a driver's liscenc-"
"y/n?"
You remember immediately stopping as you recognize the voice that most certainly did not belong to your brother, "Chim?"
"y- y/n."
You remember the outbreak of his sobs as you call out to him, his sniffles and cries becoming more and more prominent as you stumble on your feet, struggling with keeping your phone against and in between your ear and your shoulder as you hurryingly take off to grab a jacket and your keys, "Chim what's wrong, where the hell are you? W- where's Joon?"
You remember the way your heart dropped as your worst fear came to mind, the thought of losing your brother itself being enough to make you wobble in your feet, your heart clenching. He had your brother's phone, and he was crying.
"N-no, he- he's fine, y/n. It's not him, hyung's... hyung's fine."
You remember the way he struggled to find the right words; the way he sniffled and stuttered through forming such a simple sentence all the while you on the other side of the line breathe out a sigh of relief at the information of your brother's wellness, yet feeling slightly guilty that your emotions are in contrast with your friend's.
"It's Sung."
You remember Jimin's worst.
"It's Sung, y/n. Sh- she got in an accident on the way here to visit me during my off hours and- fuck! Some fucking demon pulled a hit and run on her. She was walking, y/n. She walked an hour here and got ran over by someone and.. they're doing an operation on her- hyung's assisting and he just- it's bad. It was really bad and she was bleeding all fucking over and- hyung, he- he left his phone and I didn't know what to do so I just called you- I didn't, they pushed me out of the room, y/n. I need you here. Please, please. Please come here because I'm losing my fucking mind and I need you here."
You remember driving to the hospital as careful as you can with the fear of the possibility of an accident occurring still in the midst of the back of your mind.
You remember reaching the doors of the emergency room and being greeted with a pair of reddened and exhausted eyes that looked up the moment you walked in, "Jin."
He stands up to greet you politely but you stop him, obviously seeing that his reaction upon seeing you is no more than a forced delight, "Let's not do this under these circumstances, okay? You're allowed to feel unwelcoming. It's okay, Jin."
He does no more than mumble a small 'thank you' before going back to his previous spot with you trudging along beside him.
You remember feeling the sorrow of the man beside you as you watch him lean his head back against the wall, fragile streaks of tears rolling down his flushed cheeks. You couldn't imagine his pain, the pain of such a situation where your sister's life is at stake. You wanted to comfort him, to softly rub his back and whisper sweet encouragements against his ear, little white lies that his sister is guaranteed to make it without a doubt. But you couldn't. You weren't here for him, regardless of your history. Regardless of the way you left him the morning after your supposed mistake.
"Uhm, have you seen Jimin?"
You remember the way his void eyes find yours and the way his lips lightly upturn as he gives you a forced smirk, trying to keep up with his image of being Kim Seokjin, Kim Sungkyung's handsome and cocky older brother, "And here I was thinking fate brought you here to me, y/n." He trails off, "-considering how you fucked me then dipped."
You gasp slightly and playfully hit his arm at the blunt mention of your regretted one night stand as you give him a small yet genuine smile, partly glad yet at the same time worried that he can make such remarks during a situation like this.
It was strange really, how everything in your life seemed to be connected. How on the day you felt your heart tore apart the time Jimin first mentioned his planned proposal, you went out and accidentally slept with the soon-to-be-bride's older brother.
Letting out a small sigh, Jin nods his head in the direction of a different waiting room, "He left when I came. Guess he was embarrassed of how fucked up he was but hey- I'm not doing any fucking better am I?" He tells you, subtly pointing at the very visible streaks of tears still falling down his now puffy face.
You get on your feet and turn to leave but not before giving one last glance at the man next to you, a hand softly reaching to rub his shoulder, "I'm so sorry, Jin. I wish I could stay, but-"
"It's okay, y/n. Go." Jin encourages you with a small yet noticeably forced smile, "He needs you."
And so you do, bidding him a soft goodbye before taking off, your eyes beginning to water out of the guilt of leaving a friend in that state.
You then remember being suffocated. Suffocated from the embrace that greeted you the moment Jimin entered your peripheral vision. You remember landing on your behind with a harsh thud from the struggle of Jimin's weight as he continues to seek your embrace for means of comfort, the two of you falling down the floor. You remember getting drenched from Jimin's tears as you cradle him as would a wailing child, rocking him back and forth all the while softly rubbing his back, whispering every bit of amenity that could make him feel better.
You remember feeling your heart physically ache as you fail to notice the tears that have fallen down your own eyes, blurring your sight.
To see Jimin in this state, so broken and hurt and scared, it tore you apart. You wanted him happy. You wanted him smiling. You wanted him. You loved him. And God forbid that you're admitting this in your own mind while his fiance is battling for her own life, but fuck.
You wanted nothing more than to lay down your own life for Sung so that she could continue in existence for him.
If you could, you would take here place.
You would die for her, for him.
You remember pushing back your thoughts as you put focusing on Jimin your first priority. You remember keeping him in a neverending tight embrace as he neverendingly sobs against your chest, his lips leaving prayers you could barely yet still tried to understand;
please don't let her die
don't take her away from me
i love her too much
i still have to marry her.
You then remember hearing a wail of anguish, putting a pause to both Jimin's silent pleas and your eavesdropping as the both of your heads turn to pinpoint from whom the noise came from.
You remember the way Jimin stilled.
"No."
You remember his whisper of such a small, two-lettered word, yet somehow it caused your heart to crumble.
"No no no no-"
You remember having to tackle Jimin slightly as he causes a mess of himself, punching the seats and harshly tugging on his hair all the while screaming wails of pain and suffering, "Jimin please-"
"No- get the fuck off of me! Sung?!"
You remember how Jimin lost sight of reality as he pushes you off of him, your body making in contact with the cold tiled ground.
"SUNG? SUNG! LET ME INSIDE-"
You remember seeing nurses and other staff pull the man you love back as he causes a scene, starting to become physical and violent with the people surrounding him, "PLEASE! Please- I just- I NEED TO SEE HER! SHES MY FIANCE-"
You remember seeing a man dressed in blue make his way near Jimin, a needle in his hand.
"H-hey, no!" You remember trying to catch up to the nurse, attempting to prevent them from giving whatever the shot was to Jimin, "Stop! Please-"
"y/n. D-don't."
You remember feeling a hand on your shoulder which makes you turn around instantly, only to find the culprit behind the anguished scream just moments prior Jimin's outburst.
"Jin." You start, "-they're going to sedate him. That- that's not okay."
"They have to, y/n." Another voice calls out from behind Jin, "I know how it seems and I don't like it either, b-but he's becoming violent. They have to sedate him."
"Joon." You whisper softly.
What a sick and twisted game that life is playing on you, that your brother, Jimin's best friend, Jimin's best man at the wedding being planned, is the one to give news of the bride's passing.
"Sung, is she really.." You trail off, not having the heart to finish your sentence.
It seems neither does he, as he responds with nothing but a simple avoidance of eye contact.
"HYUNG!"
You remember Jimin's faint and tired yet still firm voice as he calls out your brother, "Hyung, you saved her didn't you? You- you were part of the surgery. You saved her didn't you? Didn't you!?" Jimin is weak as he trails off his words as the effect of the syringe takes its course, but that doesn't stop him from reaching out to the three of you, "H-hyung. Tell me you saved her. P-please tell me you saved h-her."
Namjoon doesn't stop the tear that rolls down his hardened face as he only shakes his head, "I'm sorry, Jimin. We did our best. We really, really did. I'm so sorry-"
You remember the way Namjoon's voice trails off your hearing as your throat suddenly feels contracted. You remember the itching pain just within your chest as you find the struggle to breath, your hand clutching it harshly. You remember stumbling back just a little bit as you feel lightheaded, thinking that these were only from the overwhelming happenings in that moment.
But then you cough.
And you cough
and you cough
and you cough.
But no one notices you.
Not even yourself.
Your attention remains still at Jimin, who has now dropped completely to the floor, tears still continuously spilling out of his drowsy eyes. Short breaths are released from his trembling lips as he mumbles words that none of you can understand. He then begins to seemingly reach out for something, someone.
"P-please," He whispers.
And as you bend down almost immediately to attend to his calls, you cough.
And you cough
and you cough.
And still no one notices.
No one except him.
You cough as your eyes find his, barely open yet staring right at you from the lows of the floor.
You remember having to excuse yourself and run to the nearest restroom you can find, legs trembling and stumbling on your way there as you push against the winds of the almost empty halls, still coughing with every step you take. And just as you reach the doors of the restroom, you turn back slightly, just enough to catch Jimin's last sight while his body is being carried away to where you guess is a vacant patient's room, all this before his eyes ultimately close.
Eyes you found lastly staring at you.
You remember finally shutting the door and locking it, thanking God silently that you're in a family restroom hence there is no one else inside. You cough desperately, your throat beginning to feel exclusively sore and your lungs beginning to tighten from all the air being released as you cough and cough and cough again.
You reach out to the sink, gripping tightly onto the white metals as you cough and cough and cough again.
You then brushingly turn to the toilet, your eyes watering and lips numbing as you cough and you cough and you cough once more.
You practically clean the whole restroom, as disgusting as that sounds, from all the moving you made as you coughed anywhere and everywhere. You felt awful for the next person to come inside, now that your bacterium were practically in its every corner, side, and space. You cough again, this time harder, the worst one out of the previous.
You remember sensing a certain feeling rise up, something soft yet itchy, something light yet heavy.
And so you cough, and you cough, and you cough, and you cough,
and you bleed.
And amongst the red is a pink.
A single, individual pink petal from what you would soon find out is a camellia flower - the flower that is soon to be the latter symbolization of death chasing you, growing closer, inching nearer, just about to knock on your door.
So of course you remember Jimin's distraught. Of course you remember Sung's - his fiance's death.
Because her death was too, the ultimate beginning of yours.
taglist for part 2?
Bangtan Sonyeondan
♡
all rights reserved © tannieschim - please do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.
f = fluff | a = angst | h = humor
i do not write smut (sorry!)
further request rules are here.
♡
coming soon~
one last try | a, f, h
he's moved on, and so have you. but the fact that he has suddenly makes you question if you have. cause if you have, shouldn't you not care that he has? yeah, you don't understand yourself either: coming soon~
➳ one-shot
true love’s kiss | a, f,
marking the day of his death anniversary, you’re given the prime to tick the clock and love your husband back to life. two things to keep in mind: (1) indifference, (2) a kiss.
coming soon~
➳ series
when the camellia blooms | 1 | 2 | a, f, h
diagnosed with the hanahaki disease, you had only two options—accept a deathly fate, or never love again.
still, it’s you | a, f | ft. jungkook
succumbing to a menacing loss, you wake up in the arms of a man who claims to be your boyfriend even though he looks nothing like him: coming soon~
wildflower | a, f
you were too late to be his first love—that’s okay. you take comfort in his reassurance that you would be his last. if only it were true. alternatively, jungkook’s feelings are unrequited by his best friend before you came into his life: coming soon~
one last cry | a, f | ft. taehyung
she broke his heart. you fixed it. she pleads him back. you give him away. how the turn tables, if he wasn’t so devastated—: coming soon~
♡
pairing: jeon jungkook x reader genre: fluff rating: g word count: - tags/warnings: a list compiled of all the fluffy things i’ve made up about jk and forced upon my bestie while she was out here visiting me (and more…)
a/n: for @btsroyalwilds, thanks for spending the last three weeks with me. i’m going to pretend i’m not sad about you leaving. can’t wait ‘til we can sing our lungs out at a bts concert together one day~
- he would have a folder on his phone named, ‘pics my baby took,’ & they would be candid pics you’ve taken of jungkook when he was either sleeping or not paying attention that you sent to him later
- make a highlights reel on ig just for you and it would have a ♥︎ for its title
- he would pull you by the strings of your hoodie to bring you to him just so he can kiss you or hug you (giggling while he was doing it)
Keep reading
Keep reading
I mean, it’s no surprise that Jungkook loves bang pd-nim…
😁*smile through the pain*
Im so late but have you see this 😭
-🎻
NOOOOOOOOOO
I wish that more people knew that this is key to having a grand scope of perspective. Formulating opinions, and just take time to imagine. Be quirky, be curious and you’ll find yourself researching on random things. That’s the key, just remember to jot it down somewhere you won’t forget. You never know, you might get a story out of it. As for my many stories that might never see the light of day and night, maybe your time will come.
What advice would you give to young or beginning writers?
Read everything. Read the stuff you like and read the stuff you don't think you'll like. Read the things that people think it's good for you to read and read the things they seem worried about you reading. Read prose and poetry and fiction and non-fiction. Get off your phone and read books without interruption. Read the classics and read the cutting edge. Read everything you can get your hands on.
– @neil-gaiman
Baby Girl | Q&A
The characters have been through a lot, and now they’re ready to answer your burning questions. Whether you’re curious about their pasts, their wildest thoughts, or just want to know what’s going through their heads in the moment, drop your questions below or in my inbox and see what they have to say. No question is too big, too small, or too weird! So, what are you waiting for? Ask away!
Baby Girl
Pairing: DILF!Jungkook x PreSchool Teacher!Reader
Synopsis: You always gave yourself one rule, never fall for a single dad. It would be messy and you’d never be his number one. So why did your favourite kid’s dad have to be so hot?
Warnings: fluff, talks of child abandonment, single father JK, angst, arguments, smut, penetrative sex, oral (m and f receiving), light spanking, hair pulling, make outs, kissing, fingering, clit play, clit stimulation, teasing, pet names, mentions of past relationships, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, blonde!jungkook, talks of past pregnancy (not reader), mention of abortion (JK’s ex), sexual tension, alcohol consumption, thigh riding, masturbation, aftercare, swearing, praising, a bit of jealousy, hickeys, handjob, protected sex, rough and soft sex, overstimulation, and multiple orgasms
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“Why are you trying to feed Sara the crayon!” You squealed from your spot behind your desk, swiftly approaching the small circle table holding the kids before taking the purple crayon from Ara’s tiny hands. The small girl’s large brown eyes stared back at you, a smile breaking out onto her lips as she began giggling and babbling about the drawing she made for her dad.
“Look! Daddy has a pur..pur-el shirt cebause he love pur-el!” Ara pointed excitedly to the shirt she drew on her stickfigure, pride glowing in her eyes.
Your smile grew as your grip around the crayon loosened, placing it back down on the table, crouching between her and Sara’s little chairs. “Now that’s gorgeous, Ara! Your dad is gonna love it so much, but how about we stop trying to feed our friends crayons?” She giggled, agreeing before going back to her art. It was true, Ara’s dad, Jeon Jungkook, treasured every single thing she made for him. Every time she would run up to him after school, hands reaching up to him with a new little project every day. One day it was a flower that had things we were grateful for written on the petals, other days it was just a little drawing she made, or it was a seasonal art project. And she never failed to tell you all about his reactions the next day.
Every day you would watch all your students run to their parents coming to pick them up at lunch, most stopped to say ‘Hi’ or ask how their kid was doing - Jungkook never did that. It seemed odd at first, wanting to meet your student’s dad to introduce yourself and get acquainted was a normal thing most teachers did. However, you started noticing pretty early on he hung out near the back of the group of parents that waited near the doors, waiting for Ara, getting her, and then looking at you with a little smile before leaving. Why did he do that? The small pleas for help to get their coats on before the bell filled your classroom, the children still mingling and talking, some cleaning up their tables, but most ready to up and leave as the bell rings. After making sure all the kids had their belongings, you told them to line up, “One, two, three! Eyes on me!” You called out, watching all their little bug eyes look back at you. The small action made a smile spread across your face each time - how could it not? There are about fifteen pairs of eyes that look at you at the same time, with the same little focused expression. It’s impossible not to smile!
Everyone crowded at the door, talking in soft whispers as they waited for you to open it and let them run off to their parents. You let the children run in different directions, enjoying the happy chatter around you as people began leaving. Just as you were about to head into the school again, you felt a little tug on your sleeve, making you look down. “ Miss L/n, daddy’s not here…”
Her little voice trailed off and it instantly made you go into protective mode. You crouched in front of her, holding her small hand as you observed how her big boba eyes got glossy and her little button nose got red. It was a rare sight seeing Ara cry, she almost never did in your class unless it was something truly meaningful to her. “Shh, it’s okay, Ara. Your dad probably got caught up in something! How about we wait here until he arrives, hm?” You offered, wiping away the small tears that dropped down her cheeks, her head nodding softly as you stood up and held her hand outside.
Twenty minutes pass and nothing. It was unlike Jungkook to be late, every day you could see his car park in the same spot under a tree, getting out and adjusting his jacket before taking a few steps…then pausing beside his car to lock it three times. Now that you think about it, you sound kinda stalker-ish with how much attention you pay to him. The air started getting cooler, so you took Ara back inside the classroom, thankful that you had an hour break before your afternoon class showed up. “Are you warm? You can take your jacket off, Ara. Do you want some paper to draw?”
Her head was tilted down as she sat in her normal seat near the cozy corner you had set up for your students, not really answering your questions. “Did daddy leave me?” She asked, her tiny fingers picking at her other ones as she asked.
Sourness filled your heart as you heard her question, you pulled out the small chair beside her, tilting your head to see her face. “Honey, of course he didn’t leave you. He’s just running late for some reason. Why would you think that?”
“Mommy did…” Her words were cut off by sudden footsteps approaching the class quickly, a man hunched over huffing and puffing like he had just ran a marathon. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, baby.” He said, still gasping for air as he approached us, kneeling down on her other side.
Her mom left? You stood up, straightening out your cardigan as you stared down at the man pressing his forehead against Ara’s jacket covered arm. “Ara, I’m sorry, daddy had to close up the shop cause your uncles weren’t there. I’m sorry, bug.” Wow, he apologized a lot, even though Ara had already probably forgotten about what happened. Her bright little smile was there again, brightening the room as his large…tattooed hand caressed the opposite arm.
“Daddy! Look what I made!” Ara exclaimed, showing her dad her little portrait of her and her dad, wearing his purple shirt.
“Wow, I love it, baby girl! It’s so me. You know where this is going?” The way they both said “on the fridge” at the exact same time would make any woman’s ovaries burst. It was too cute! Ara’s dad stood up, rubbing his hands on the back of his pants before looking at you, staring blankly before his eyes widened and a hand was out stretched. “Sorry! I’m Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook! Ara’s dad, cause she has the same last name as me, but not only that reason! Her mom and I-” He stopped, his cheeks tinting a light red as you grasped his hand, shaking it with furrowed brows. “I’m gonna stop talking before I make it worse.”
“No, no, please. I always enjoy hearing about how parents are related to their child.” You laughed, releasing his hand again - eyes gleaming from the way his cheeks darkened in colour again. “It’s honestly okay, Mr. Jeon. Ara and I had a feeling something came up at work and that’s why you were late.”
The sigh of relief that escaped him must have been in him for a while, his whole body relaxing a little more after you said that. “Thank you for looking after her. This won’t happen again, at all. Uhm..Ms…?”
“Oh! Sorry, Y/n. Y/n L/n, Ara’s teacher. Since she’s in my class.” You over explained just like he did, thankfully he had a sense of humor since he let out a soft breathy laugh. “Again, don’t worry at all, I understand. Things happen sometimes.” You eased him, smiling gently as he grabbed Ara’s little hand, helping her out of her chair.
“Yeah…but thank you…still.” He said one last time, leaning down to pick his daughter up before propping her on his hip. Her little hand went to his hair immediately, tugging softly as he pulled his head away, smiling at her. They left the room, chatting softly as he walked back down the hall to exit through the front office. Sitting at your desk, you opened your computer, preparing your slideshow for your afternoon class on how to make a pretty sunset with pastels, but the only thing you could think about…
He had really pretty hair.
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“Wait, wait, wait- rewind. You’re telling me that you were face to face with a DILF and did nothing?!” Rose practically yelled as you walked together down the hall towards the parking lot.
“Okay, let’s not call him that…he’s still the father of my student. It feels wrong calling him something so…vulgar?” You squeemed while fumbling for your keys. “Plus, what was I supposed to do? His kid was right there, it’s not like I could’ve just jumped his bones right there.”
She glanced at you from the corner of her eyes, a small smirk on her lips as she grabbed her own keys out of her bag. “Well, I’m just saying, maybe he would’ve been into that. Having you get all up on him, nice and close and just-” You shoved her away playfully, laughing as you watched her mimic some sort of makeout session.
“There is no way that would've happened! Again, Rose, you’re forgetting this was the first time I’ve ever actually talked to the guy. It’s not like some magical thing is gonna happen to make us instantly fall in love.” She pushed open the doors to the front office, a shiver running down your spine as the cool breeze hit your face. You unlocked your car, standing by the driver’s door as you spoke again. “This is real life, not some romance book that’s gonna have me sweeped off my feet by the end of it.”
“Yeah, yeah…” She waved a dismissive hand, opening her car door before poking her head out again. “I’m just saying, it’s been a while for you since you’ve dated, so why not try out the awkward, DILF of a dad?”
“Have a good night, Rose.”
All you could hear was her laughter as you got in and closed your own door.
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Mondays are the worst.
It’s almost like a sick joke - you wake up and feel like it’s gonna be a productive day, but instead, your makeup looked trashy, your favourite shirt that you were supposed to wear today had a stain on it, your coffee machine was broken, and your car wouldn’t start for a good twenty minutes.
So yeah, it’s a lovely day.
“I am so sorry, Rose! Thank you for watching over my class, I swear I’ll be there soon.” You rambled quickly, looking both ways on the road before taking a left.
“Girl, relax, it’s okay. Could you pick me up a coffee though? Didn’t have time to make my own today.” You could hear her shuffling around, probably in your desk to find the spelling sheets you had ready for your students.
“Of course, I was gonna pick one up anyway.” Your voice came out as a murmur, trying to focus on the road so you didn’t add another problem to your list of issues today.
There was some sort of sound that came from her side of the call, something between a hum and squeal of delight. “There’s one coffee place that’s not too far from the school, The Quiet Bean, reaaaaally cute place!”
The Quiet Bean? People are getting creative nowadays…After a few more minutes of talking - you telling her what she should start the kids on, and her telling you where the shop is - you finally hung up. Plugging in the address of the coffee shop, you pulled up to a small shop. It was the sort of place that invited you in without making a scene. Its façade was a blend of weathered brick and soft, taupe-painted wood, the kind that had aged gracefully, like it had stories to tell. The large windows were framed in simple, cream-colored trim, their panes reflecting the faintest light of the afternoon sun. A faint trace of ivy crept up along the edges, as if nature itself had taken a liking to this quiet little corner of the world.
The café’s sign hung above the door, a modest wooden board with the name The Quiet Bean painted in elegant, flowing script. The letters, accented by a small, delicate illustration of a steaming coffee cup, as though to beckon you inside with the promise of something warm and comforting. It wasn’t flashy, but there was something undeniably welcoming about it, something that whispered of calm moments and good company.
As you stepped closer, the faint scent of lavender and earth drifted from a row of mismatched flower boxes, their colors a soft mix of greens and purples. Small, bistro-style tables were scattered outside, their wrought-iron chairs empty for now, but ready to welcome anyone looking to enjoy the sun with a cup in hand.
Pulling the door open, you were met with a strong scent of freshly brewed coffee and pastries. Your eyes widened as you looked around, taking in the detail of the shop and taking note of every little detail that was put into building it. You slowly approached the counter, eyes trained on the display of sweets. God, they looked delicious. It was as if everywhere you turned there was something new you noticed - now, it was the simple yet captivating writing on the menu board that hung above the counter. Why was writing captivating you? Nevermind.
You glanced around, a few people were sitting at tables, enjoying a warm coffee with a sweet treat, but no one behind the counter. Your brows furrowed softly, tilting your head to try and see if someone was lingering behind the walkway to the back of the coffee shop, but there was no one. You reached forward, tapping the small bell that sat beside one of the pastry display cases, the high pitched shrill sound making you jump slightly.
A guy, wiping his hands on the towel that hung from his apron quickly rounded the corner. His blonde hair tied into a small bun as he looked up. Those eyes…the wide doe ones that seemed all too familiar. The ones that held the universe…where had you seen them before? “Welcome to The Quiet Bea-” The man’s voice cut off as he stood there staring at you, his round eyes widening slightly. “M-Ms. Y/n…what…you’re…”
It clicked. Those eyes, the ones you have to look at every single day, the same ones Ara had. “Mr. Jeon, it’s…uhm, hello.” Why was this so embarrassing? This was just like when you saw a teacher outside of school and didn’t know how to act. Holy hell. “Sorry…sorry, good morning.”
His cheeks tinted a light pink, the sound of him clearing his throat sounded through the small cafe, you watched him cringe from the sound. “G-Good morning…I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting…never mind.” He shook his head, a few strands of his blonde hair framing his face as he approached the cash register. “What can I get for you?”
“Just two lattes please.” You smiled, gaze wandering off to the side as you eyed the pastries again. As if on cue, your stomach rumbled, causing you to freeze and Jungkook to glance up at you from the register. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned forward on the counter, a small tilt to his head. “Did you maybe want some food, too? Our pistachio croissants are really good, if I do say so myself.”
Now it was your turn to turn pink, a sheepish smile spreading across your face as you nodded. “I’ll take two of those, too, please.” He nodded, a smile still lingering on his face as he used the tons to grab out two of the fresh croissants. Placing the bag on the counter, he turned his back to you as he started on the coffees.
As you stood there, it was hard not to notice how wide his back was. It was the perfect size to his waist which was - surprisingly - small. And not to mention the way his shirt hugged his chest and torso, there was practically nothing left for the imagination, there was even a teasingly small amount of tattoos shown that littered his right hand, and you just knew there were more. Maybe Mondays aren't so bad. I mean, you got to see that perfect ass- okay, no. Stop it! That is still your student's dad!
He turned around, two coffees in hand as he placed them on the counter, tapping something into the register before telling you your total. You pulled out your card, tapping it on the card machine before situating yourself to grab everything. “Uh…I don’t mean to be, like, that one parent…but why is the teacher of my daughter here getting coffee when school has already started?”
“Oh, so you were one of the kids that was always on time to class.” You said with a small smile, looking down into your wallet as you placed your card back into its proper place. “I was having a bad morning, running late. But my friend, who’s a teacher as well, is watching over my class. She wanted a coffee.” You wiggled your finger at the cup, a smile on your face that wouldn’t go away for some reason.
It was impossible not to giggle at the way his brows furrowed and his bottom lip pouted from your comment. “I was not ‘one of those kids.’” He crossed his arms, looking at you as you grabbed the coffees and bag that held your pastries. “If it means anything…I hope you have a better day.” His voice was like honey, something so sweet, you never wanted it to disappear.
“Thank you…I hope the same for you, Mr. Jeon.”
“Please, call me Jungkook!” Even his smile was sweet…fuck.
Just as you were about to exit the shop, you turned, using your back to push the door open. “Alright then, Jungkook. And call me, Y/n…I’m not your teacher.” Your last words left him going red again, and to your unease, it was a sight you wouldn’t mind seeing again. ______________________________________________________________
As the warm afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of your classroom, casting a comforting glow over the tidy rows of desks, Rose settled into the chair across from you, a concerned expression etched on her face. The air was filled with the faint scent of chalk and the distant hum of the air conditioning vent.
"Y/n, you're not going to tell me what's going on, are you?" Rose asked, her voice gentle but probing. You hesitated, fidgeting with the edge of the paper bag as you took a bite of your croissant. Damn they were good. They were alone in the classroom during their lunch break, the door locked securely behind them.
Rose's eyes narrowed as she watched your flustered movements. "Come on, spill it," she urged, her voice a gentle coaxing. You took another bite, your eyes avoiding Rose's inquiring gaze. "It's just...I saw Jungkook at the coffee shop this morning…Ara’s dad," you mumbled around a mouthful of food, eyes darting back to Rose.
Rose's eyebrows shot up. "That coffee shop? Where you got our lattes?" You nodded, your cheeks flushing. Rose's expression turned thoughtful as she leaned in, her voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "So you saw Hot DILF again?"
Your eyes widened in alarm, hastily causing you to look around the room as if ensuring they were truly alone. "Rose, please, don't say that out loud," You whispered, voice laced with a mixture of embarrassment and fear. Rose chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
"What's wrong? You're not going to date him, are you?" It was almost as if this was the day you couldn’t stop blushing. Your face turned bright red as you hastily shook her head, your ponytail bobbing in time. "Of course not, I'm just...I'm just saying, he's a great guy, from what I’ve seen, but...but it's just a rule, you know?" Your words tumbled out in a rush, your voice growing more agitated by the second.
Rose's expression turned to understanding, and she reached out to place a reassuring hand on your arm. "I get it, I really do. You've always said no to dating single parents, and I respect that. But...it's just so hard when you're around him, isn't it?" Your eyes dropped, looking away, your face burning with a mix of embarrassment and longing.
Rose's gentle words hung in the air, and you felt your heart racing as you tried to process her emotions. You couldn't deny it - you had felt a flutter in her chest when you saw Jungkook, and it wasn't just because you were worried about being professional around him. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down and rationalize your feelings.
"I don't know, Rose," You said finally, voice barely above a whisper. "It's just...he's really nice, and easy to talk to...it's just hard to ignore the fact that he's Ara’s dad."
Rose nodded understandingly, her expression sympathetic. "I know, I know. And it's not like you can just...ignore the fact that he's cute, either," she added with a sly smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
You playfully rolled your eyes, trying to deflect the attention from your flustered state. "Yeah, real help, Rose. You're not making this any easier for me."
Rose laughed, her eyes shining with mirth. "Sorry, sorry. I just want you to be happy, and if that means being around Mr. Hot DILF...I mean, Jungkook...then so be it."
A smile spread across your face, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at her words. "Thanks, Rose. You're a good friend."
As they chatted, you couldn't help but think about Jungkook's warm smile and gentle laugh. You pushed the thoughts away, reminding yourself of the rule and the reasons behind it. But you couldn't shake the feeling that you had crossed a line, and that your attraction to Jungkook was more than just a harmless infatuation.
The lunch bell rang, shattering the peaceful atmosphere in the classroom. As they made their way to the classroom door, Rose leaned in, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Hey, Y/n? Just out of curiosity...what do you think would happen if you did date him?"
Your eyes widened in alarm, and you quickly shot Rose a warning glance. "Rose, don't even say that. I already told you I'm not going to date him, so let's just drop it, okay?"
Rose held up her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. No more talking about Jungkook. Let's just focus on surviving through the day and parent-teacher interviews. How ‘bout that?"
You smiled, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude towards your friend. "Sounds like a plan to me."
______________________________________________________________
The faint echo of footsteps grew louder in the quiet hallway as you straightened up at your desk, glancing at the clock. The dim lights above flickered softly, casting a warm glow that illuminated the classroom filled with colorful student artwork. It was the night of parent-teacher interviews, and your heart raced in anticipation and anxiety. Each appointment was a gateway to success and growth, but tonight felt different. Tonight, you faced the sight of a certain single father…again.
As you set out fresh papers and a cup of coffee—mostly meant to ward off your own nerves—you tried to shake off the flutter twisting in your stomach. You had told Rose you wouldn’t get involved with parents, yet here you were, feeling exhilaratingly torn between professionalism and a sudden spike of anticipation.
The gentle knock on the door pulled you from your swirl of thoughts. “Come in!” you called, your voice steadying to mask your racing heart. The knob turned, and Jungkook stepped inside, his tall figure silhouetted against the hallway light. He looked slightly rumpled in a casual white fisherman’s sweater and jeans, as if he had just finished a long day balancing work and parenting. His sandy hair fell over his forehead, giving him an endearing boyishness.
“Hi, Y/n,” Jungkook said softly, his voice low and a little shy. He shifted between his feet, running a hand through his hair, and for a moment, you felt as though the air in the room thickened with something—tension, attraction, or perhaps, an endless stream of unspoken words.
“Hi, Jungkook! Thank you for coming,” You replied, trying to maintain the professional tone you’d rehearsed in your mind. “Please, have a seat.”
He hesitated for just a moment before sinking into the chair opposite your desk, glancing around the room and admiring the colorful projects that adorned the walls. “It’s nice to see what you’ve done with the place. Ara talks about it all the time,” he said, a smile creeping onto his face that lit up his eyes.
As you reviewed Ara’s progress report, you couldn’t help but feel Jungkook’s gaze lingering on you, like a gentle warmth wrapping around you. “She’s doing wonderfully, really. She’s bright, creative, and so full of energy,” You continued, your voice flowing with professional ease.
“That’s great to hear,” Jungkook replied, his fingers nervously tapping on the desk. “I mean… I worry about her sometimes, you know? Juggling everything has been—” He paused, biting his lip slightly as if searching for the right words. “—hard. But she loves coming to school.”
In that moment, you could see the affection etched on his face. His love for Ara was so palpable, so tender, that it made your heart swell. “You’re doing an amazing job as a father,” you blurted out before you could catch yourself.
A flush crept into Jungkook's cheeks, and he chuckled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks. I still feel like I have so much to learn,” he said, glancing away, his honesty disarming you.
“I think it’s a continuous journey for all parents,” You replied, forcing yourself to ignore the way your heart fluttered at his vulnerability. You forced herself to focus on Ara’s achievements, highlighting the areas where she could improve.
Yet with each laugh Jungkook shared, with each genuine word of praise he offered about his daughter, you found it harder to keep your feelings at bay. The chemistry crackled between them, threatening to bridge the gap of professionalism that you had once held sacred.
“I don’t know how I can ever thank you for what you do,” Jungkook said suddenly, a sincere expression on his face. “I feel like Ara has blossomed since she started in your class.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Jungkook,” You spoke softly, heart racing as you met his gaze. “It’s my job and my passion.”
He leaned back in the chair, taking a moment before asking softly, “But what about you? Do you… do you enjoy being a teacher?”
You nodded, feeling a stirring inside you—a mix of admiration and a desire for connection that you fought to suppress. “I really do,” you confessed. “It's a rewarding experience, but...” You hesitated for a moment, knowing your feelings threatened to slip from your grasp. “It can be challenging at times.”
“Yeah, life can be tough,” Jungkook replied, his voice low. “But I guess we all find our way through it.”
Their eyes locked for a heartbeat longer than necessary, and you felt an electric jolt, a silent understanding passing between them. But just as quickly, you pulled yourself back, focusing instead on the paperwork scattered across your desk.
“I believe Ara will continue to thrive under your guidance,” Jungkook said, attempting to break the growing tension.
“Absolutely,” You agreed, feeling the flicker of excitement mingled with anxiety. “If you have any concerns, please don’t hesitate to reach out.”
Jungkook smiled, the warmth in his expression making your pulse quicken, and you couldn’t help but smile back, even as reality settled back in. They were from two different worlds, tethered by the innocent bond of a daughter between them, and you knew you had to tread carefully.
“Thank you for your time,” Jungkook finally said, rising from his seat, his voice a blend of gratitude and something softer, like an unexpressed hope. “I really appreciate it.”
As he turned to leave, you felt a mix of longing and resolve. “You’re welcome, Jungkook. Have a great evening,” You managed to say, your heart heavy with unspoken feelings and the sensation of his presence lingering in the room long after he had gone.
With a sigh, you sank back into your chair, trying to reclaim your professional demeanor, fully aware that this was only the beginning of a journey you had carefully set herself against. And yet, without a doubt, it felt exhilarating and terrifying all at once.
The echo of Jungkook’s footsteps faded down the hallway as you sat back in your chair, staring blankly at the stack of papers on your desk. The soft, dim light of the classroom wrapped around you like a cocoon, but instead of feeling comforted, your thoughts spiraled into chaotic disarray. Your heart still raced at the memory of his shy smile and the way his gaze warmed you, sending unexpected flutters coursing through your chest.
“Okay, Y/n. Let’s think this through,” you murmured to yourself, pushing your chair back a bit to pace. You took a deep breath, holding your head high as you began your internal debate, your footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor.
Pros:
1. He’s Kind: Jungkook showed genuine concern for Ara’s well-being; that spoke volumes about his character.
2. He’s a Good Father: Seeing how much he adored his daughter made your heart melt. A man who values family is definitely an attractive trait.
3. We Have Chemistry: The connection was palpable during your meeting, the kind that sent thrills of excitement coursing through you.
Cons:
1. He’s Ara’s Father: You would always have that complex dynamic, which could complicate everything. What if things went wrong? The relationship with Ara would be at stake.
2. Professional Boundaries: As a teacher, you reminded yourself constantly of the boundaries that existed between you and the parents. Getting involved with a parent could lead to gossip and drama.
3. Could She Actually Do This? You didn’t want to enter the dating world and find yourself getting hurt. There was so much at stake, and discretion was key.
The rhythm of your footsteps quickened, your thoughts tumbling into a whirlwind of confusion.
“No, no, no.” You held her temples, trying to massage away the tension that gnawed at you. “You can’t think like this. You would be crossing a line, Y/n. Your job is to inspire and educate, not fall for the parents!”
You paused, catching your breath, feeling the weight of your emotions. “But—what if this is something special?” An involuntary smile sneaked onto your face at the thought of Jungkook’s easy laughter, the way he nervously fidgeted in his chair, and the sincere glances he offered. “What if…he’s different?”
Your heart raced again, and you bit your lip, taking another deep breath to steady yourself. You have dedicated yourself to your career. You loved teaching and the bonds you created with your students. But you also felt the longing for companionship, for someone who would truly understand your heart, your struggles, and your dreams.
You found your way back to the desk, grabbing the paper you had written notes on about Ara. It was filled with nothing but good observations and bright notes that showcased the little girl’s personality. “This is about Ara, too,” you whispered, glancing at the portrait Ara had drawn of you standing beside her at the school. You had never looked better as a stick figure.
“Could I do this?” you inquired softly, staring out the window at the fading sunlight. “Would this be fair to Ara? To him?” You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to visualize yourselves together, the gentle kind heartedness belying a deeper connection that tethered you.
Footsteps interrupted your reverie, and you looked up to see Rose peeking through the door. “Y/n?” she called softly, stepping inside. The infectious energy of her friend brightened the room. “I saw Jungkook leave. How did it go?”
Your internal debate halted as you met Rose's eager gaze, the warmth of friendship wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. “It was... interesting,” You replied slowly, trying to sort through the flood of emotions that threatened to spill over.
“What does that mean? Was he flirty?” Rose raised an eyebrow, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
You shook your head, your cheeks flushing slightly. “No, it wasn’t like that. We just talked about Ara and her progress. But there’s this…connection, Rose. It’s hard to explain.”
“Do you like him?” Rose leaned forward, her excitement palpable, her curiosity evident.
“I don’t know! I mean, I shouldn’t, right?” You sighed, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “He’s Ara’s dad, and I’m her teacher. There are boundaries, Rose!”
“But do you want to explore those boundaries? You said it yourself; it’s a connection!” Rose's voice rose slightly, her enthusiasm inexhaustible. “You only live once, Y/n!”
“Why are you so supportive of this? Are you trying to get me into trouble?” You chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, but you felt the weight of Rose’s words pressing upon you.
“Maybe I am!” Rose teased, crossing her arms. “But look, if you feel something for him, that could be something worth exploring. Relationships don’t always lead to disaster, you know. Sometimes, they lead to wonderful things.”
You chewed your lip, your heart fluttering at the prospect. “But what if I mess it up? What if I ruin things with Ara and her dad?”
“I think Ara would be happy if he found someone who makes him smile,” Rose asserted confidently. “And if that someone happens to be you...well, then that’s just a bonus!”
Looking down at your desk, pondering the vibrant artwork that Ara had drawn, you felt a gentle surge of hope amidst the confusion. Maybe there was a chance for something beautiful—if you could just take the leap.
“All right,” You said finally, fortifying yourself. “I’ll think about it. But I have to be careful...for Ara’s sake. And for my own.”
“Smart girl.” Rose grinned, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Now, let’s plan how to help you catch his attention.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension lifting slightly as you felt the warmth of Rose’s friendship. As they began to chat and brainstorm about playful ways to show your interest, you felt a new storm of possibility unfurling in your heart—one that you could no longer pretend to ignore. ______________________________________________________________
After leaving your classroom, Jungkook leaned against the cold, tiled wall of the hallway, taking a moment to catch his breath. The sound of his heart thudding loudly in his chest seemed to resonate in the quiet space around him. What just happened? He couldn't shake the feeling of exhilaration mingled with a flicker of anxiety as memories of their conversation flooded his mind.
He rubbed a hand across his neck, still feeling the heat rising to his cheeks—a bashful evidence of how easily flustered he had become in your presence. Your smile, your laughter, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about Ara—it was utterly charming. Why did she have to be so captivating?
His thoughts immediately twisted into a flurry of whims. Honestly, how could someone be so effortlessly beautiful? Your enthusiasm about teaching resonated deep within him; he admired how you handled the classroom, how you brought warmth and light to every interaction. The way you carelessly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear made his heart flutter. He relished in the thought that you cared so deeply for his daughter; it filled him with a swell of appreciation that lingered a little too long in his chest.
But then there was that chemistry, that intoxicating vibe that seemed to hum in the air between them. Jungkook winced slightly, aware that he was entering dangerous territory. Your laugh had tugged at something deep inside him—a longing that he rarely dared to face. Could he be falling for you? The thought was both thrilling and unsettling.
His mind wandered to the moment their eyes met, the way you had smiled at him as if you were sharing a secret, a moment just for the two of them amidst the world. Thoughts he knew he shouldn’t entertain slipped through like silk ribbons, tightening around his chest. What would it feel like to hold her? To run his fingers through her hair, to pull her close and whisper sweet nothings in her ear?
Jungkook pressed his lips together, forcing the blush creeping up his neck to subside. Damn it, Jungkook. Focus on Ara! But the image of you was stubborn, filling his thoughts with mischievous imaginings—your laughter echoing in his ears, your soft, inviting gaze lingering in his mind.
He imagined you tucked against him on a lazy Sunday morning, sunlight streaming through the window casting dappled shapes on your skin, and he couldn't help but wonder if you would look up at him in that soft, sleepy kind of way—your hair tousled, and that peaceful smile gracing your features. God, he would do anything for that smile.
His heart raced at those thoughts. Was it wrong to want more? The deeper he delved into his fantasies, the more he wondered if he could truly let someone in again. The idea of developing a connection with you was thrilling but terrifying.
But what if it went well? What if he got to know the woman behind the teacher façade? What if they clicked like he suspected they might? A sudden image of their hands intertwined danced in his mind, the warmth radiating from your soft fingers sending shivers down his spine. He imagined kissing you—a slow, intimate exploration that left you both breathless, your hearts racing in sync.
His body reacted even to the thought, and Jungkook groaned softly, shaking his head at the direction his mind had taken. He just wanted to know more about you—the fear and the thrill of the unknown gnawing at him as he paced in place. Was he ready to join the dating world again? To risk his heart?
Jungkook glanced down the hallway, half-expecting you to appear again with that mesmerizing smile. He exhaled slowly, trying to calm the whirlwind that churned within him. You had met as teacher to parent, you were cautious in your own ways, but there was something in your gaze, the spark of possibility daring him to breach the barrier.
“Just take it slow,” he whispered to himself, trying to ignore the overwhelming desire unfurling within him like a curtain drawn back to reveal a dazzling stage. “She’s worth it.”
In his mind’s eye, he could see your face, lit with warmth and kindness, exhibited perfectly in the classrooms where you worked magic with children. But he wanted you outside of the school, in the real world, where they could be themselves.
With another deep breath, he turned and walked away from the classroom, his heart still racing and the ambitious thoughts whirling inside his mind. The night air hit him like a splash of cold water, grounding him, reminding him that this was just the beginning of something he knew could change everything. And as he left the school grounds, he couldn't shake the feeling that he wanted to do whatever it took to make sure he saw you again. ______________________________________________________________
The restaurant was awash in golden candlelight, casting flickering shadows on the walls adorned with tasteful art. The hum of conversation intermingled with the clinking of silverware, creating a cozy atmosphere that settled around the tables like a warm embrace. Jungkook had arrived early, wearing a fitted navy sweater that accentuated his figure and dark jeans—not too formal, but just enough to speak of a thoughtful effort. Tonight was important.
He twisted his napkin nervously in his lap as he surveyed the room, his gaze darting to the entrance. How do you prepare for a date with someone you genuinely like? It had been several weeks since they started talking, gradually letting layers peel away to reveal their authentic selves, and now here they were, on the brink of something new.
As if summoned by his thoughts, you walked in, your presence radiant in a deep emerald dress that hugged your curves and made you look effortlessly elegant. Your hair cascaded in soft waves, and when their eyes met, a bright smile danced across your lips—a smile that made Jungkook’s heart skip a beat.
“Hey,” you greeted, your voice warm and inviting as you approached the table.
“Hey! You look amazing,” Jungkook found himself saying, his cheeks warming at the earnestness in his tone.
“Thanks! You too!” You replied, taking your seat across from him, the evening lighting casting a gentle glow on your features.
Jungkook tried to shake off the nerves, but it was hard not to stumble over his words as their waiter arrived. “Good evening! Can I start you off with something to drink?”
“Uh, yes! I’d like a glass of red wine, please,” Jungkook said, his hands fidgeting on the table beneath the napkin.
“Same for me,” You chimed in, your openness making it easier for him to remember how to breathe.
As they sipped their wine and exchanged laughter, they discussed everything—their favorite movies, childhood memories, and even the quirks of teaching that made them both laugh aloud. But as the conversation flowed, Jungkook felt the slight pressure of anticipation build in his chest, the electric tension flickering like a candle in the wind.
“So, what’s been the best part of your week?” he asked, hoping to keep the conversation light while his nerves simmered beneath the surface.
You leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “Well, this week we were doing some more basic spelling skills. And there was one point, where I said that our class was gonna have a small spelling bee competition against the other Kindergarten class. Ara took it a little too seriously, she started buzzing like a bee after every word she spelled.”
Jungkook chuckled, picturing the adorable scene. “Oh God, is that why she came home and couldn’t stop buzzing around? I mean, at least she’s remembering to spell more words correctly…she rewards herself by buzzing a little each time.”
“Well, she does have a great teacher,” you teased, your eyes locking onto his with that playful glimmer.
Jungkook felt the heat rushing up his neck. “I’m just trying to keep up with your class levels,” he said with a grin.
Their connection felt tangible, fragile yet electric. Jungkook summoned his courage as the waiter returned with their meals. “It looks great. I hope it tastes great,” he said, lifting his fork, eager to divert his nervous energy.
As they began to eat, Jungkook was distraught to discover that his mouth seemed to have developed a mind of its own. “So, I was thinking maybe—I mean, if you’re interested—” he stumbled through the heavy words, glancing at her, “we could visit that new art exhibit next weekend? Or maybe a picnic? I’m definitely up for a picnic.”
Your brows raised in surprise, a smile breaking across your face. “I’d love that! An art exhibit sounds fantastic.”
Jungkook exhaled, relief washing over him. They continued chatting, light and airy, until a relaxed silence fell between them. An idea struck him, and he leaned closer, teasingly, “You know, you’re making this date really easy. I thought I’d be sweating bullets.”
Just as the words left his mouth, careless and relaxed, he slipped. “I guess I just feel comfortable, baby girl…”
His voice trailed off in horror as his brain caught up with his mouth. Did he really just call you that? His cheeks blazed a deep shade of crimson, eyes widening as he braced himself for your reaction.
You blinked, pausing mid-bite, amusement dancing in your eyes. “Wow, that was unexpected. Do I look like a baby girl to you?”
Jungkook’s face burned, a thousand apologies spiraling through his mind. “I-I didn’t mean it like—! I mean, you’re—!” He stumbled over his words, rendering himself a stammering mess.
You couldn’t help but chuckle, clearly amused, leaning forward as if to ease his embarrassment. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I kinda liked it, actually. It’s sweet.”
His initial panic spilled over into relief, but the flirty undertone hung between them, making the air around them more charged. Under the table, his heart raced as he played with the hem of his own sweater, unsure whether he was feeling flustered or exhilarated.
He took a deep breath, trying to regain control. “Well, um, you are adorable, so I guess it fits—just not in the way I set it up!”
“Do you think I’m adorable, huh?” You teased, your playful confidence radiating from you. Your gaze held a challenge, one that made his heart race anew.
“Not just adorable,” he clarified, leaning in slightly, feeling the heat of her presence. “You’re… captivating. Thoughtful. Kind. And it’s…” he hesitated, a smirk creeping onto his face, “dangerously charming.”
You bit your lip, eyes glimmering with intrigue, every inch of your body language inviting him closer. “Dangerously charming, huh? Is that a compliment or a warning?”
“Both,” Jungkook said, letting the tension linger in the air, a quiet challenge exchanged between them. As if he were testing the waters before diving in. “How about you tell me something about yourself that could potentially get us both in trouble?”
This time, you laughed, and it echoed around their cozy corner of the restaurant. The flirtation was undeniable, thickening the air as they engaged in the dance of unspoken desires. Finally, it seemed like this date might indeed lead somewhere—somewhere beautifully unexpected, where the two of them could explore the chemistry that had sparked between them.
With their plates nearly empty and glasses refilled, you glanced over at him, a light blush dusting over your cheeks. Under the table, you let your foot caress up and down his calf, watching how he paused halfway through paying for the bill to look at you with a tilted head. You turned your head away, resting it in your palm as you continued your movements, hearing how Jungkook’s breathing changed from light and even to heavier and quicker.
“What’re you doing…?” He asked quietly, cheeks burning a red colour as he sunk into his chair a little more. You shrugged your shoulders, looking away again, the intensity of the situation making it hard to stare directly at him.
The sound of chair legs scraping against the floor made you finally look back at him. His cheeks were a dark red, a hand extended towards you as he helped you out of your chair, pushing it in before slowly walking with you. A shaky hand was placed around your waist, sending tingles all throughout your body, it was clear Jungkook was nervous, but it was also clear he wanted something else. Craved something else.
“Jungkook, are yo-”
“Do you want to come back to my place?” He asked hurriedly but softly, his eyes staring into yours as he waited for your response. “I know it’s inappropriate to ask, especially since it’s only our first date, but you just…you look really good in your dress, like, really, really good- and…and…”
He looked as if he were about to lose his mind if you didn’t speak soon. You carefully cupped his face, brushing your thumbs along his cheeks as you spoke. “Hey, relax…it’s okay. You can breathe…” You calmed him down, his hands coming up to hold your forearms gently, taking in deep breaths. “I..I would love to…go back to your place, I mean. But…what about Ara?”
“She’s with her uncles…Namjoon and Jin promised to look after her.” He said breathlessly, his eyes looking everywhere on your face at once, taking in as much detail as possible as if he were trying to engrain an image of you into his mind.
“Am I supposed to know who those people are, or?” He shook his head, a small laugh escaping his lips as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours before pulling away.
“They’re my friends that helped me raise her. Also work at the cafe.” He mumbled, bouncing a little as he looked at the parking lot. “ I really love sharing things with you, but I’m about to lose my mind if I don’t have you soon…so…my car is over there.” He said, pointing over to a black car parked a little further away from the restaurant.
There wasn’t a lot of time between getting in the car, the drive to his place, and getting inside his place. As soon as you stepped foot inside the threshold, Jungkook was grabbing you, needy hands grabbing at your waist as he looked at you, quietly asking for permission to kiss you. You barely nodded before he gently pressed his lips against yours, the kiss was firm yet soft, everything you expected from him.
“God…” He whispered against your lips, cupping your face as he kissed you again, groaning from how good you were. “You’re so perfect…so, so perfect.”
A soft giggle escaped you, pulling back so you were face to face with him, “You’ve barely kissed me, how can you know I’m perfect?” You asked, following mindlessly as he dragged you to the bedroom.
“Because.”
“Because?”
“Yes, ‘because.’ Don’t ruin the moment.”
You could hear the smile in his voice as he kissed you again, lifting you slightly to place you on the bed. His hands moved to your waist, squeezing and kneading the flesh under your dress. His lips slowly moved from your lips to your jaw, peppering soft kisses all along your skin. His left hand grabbed your chin, turning your head to the side so he had more room to find the spots that made you shiver. “Your skin’s so soft, baby girl…”
The feeling of his lips latching onto your skin made you shiver, feeling the slight suction as he sucked a mark into your skin, his tongue soothing the area afterwards. He hovered above you, arms propping himself up so he didn’t squish you completely, not that you’d mind.
“Fuck…Jungkook…” You whimpered, feeling him smirk against your skin. He pulled away, eyes meeting yours as he pressed another soft kiss to your lips.
“Can I take your dress off?” If he wasn’t breathless before, he sure was now, panting as he waited for permission. “Please, I wanna see your pretty body, baby.”
You managed to nod, propping yourself up so he could reach back and unzip your dress. His fingers gently grasped your sleeves, pulling the forward as the top half of your dress slid off your body. The sound that left his lips made your panties damper than before, his eyes focused solely on your bare breasts. “Oh shit…no bra?”
“Didn’t have one that worked with the dress.” You replied, finding it hard to stare at him head on. Jungkook seemed to notice this, his hands cupping your face again, focusing on your eyes as he spoke softly.
“Hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed or anything…you have the hottest body ever. Like, ever. I mean, you just showed me your bare tits and I almost came.” With his admission his cheeks tinted pink, but he didn’t pay any mind to it, instead focusing on you. “If you ever feel uncomfortable, just tell me. Okay? I’ll stop right away.”
His gaze slowly went back to your tits, his thumbs resting just under your breasts, brushing against the soft skin before fully grasping them in his hands. You let out a breathless moan, eyes fluttering closed as you relished in his touch. It wasn’t long after that he had you out of that dress and your panties, being stripped down to only his boxers himself. His face was level with your pussy, lips pressing soft kisses against your inner thighs as he edged closer and closer to the place you needed him most.
He darted his tongue out, licking a stripe down your folds, before making contact with your clit. The moans you let out egged him on more, pressing his face further into your cunt without any care in the world. The sloppy sounds that came from his mouth on your pussy was borderline pornographic. He used his fingers to part your folds, paying as much attention to your clit as possible. After a few minutes he pulled back, taking a few quick breaths before tugging you closer to the edge of the bed. He noticed the way you were gripping the sheets, how your eyes were screwed shut in pleasure.
“Aww, are you close, baby girl? Does my good girl wanna cum?” He taunted, and all you could do was whine and nod.
Your eyes were glossy as you opened them again, looking down at him to see the bottom half of his face covered in your juices. “Please… Please, wanna cum…wanna cum for you…” You moaned, blindly reaching for one of his hands.
He got the idea, intertwining your fingers with his as he rested them just above your pelvic bone. He nipped at your inner thigh before licking another bold stripe up your sensitive folds, sucking your clit into his mouth. His tongue flicked over it slowly, steadily changing the rhythm to a pace that would bring you to the edge in an instant. With a few more flicks of his tongue, he had you coming undone on his tongue, slurping up every little bit of juice that leaked from your hole.
You laid on the bed, limp and breathless as you looked at him, watching him stand up straight and wipe the rest of your juices that were on his face on the back of his hand. “How’re you doing, baby?” He asked softly, kissing your cheeks a few times to make sure you were still with him.
You hummed softly, nodding as you pushed yourself up, connecting your lips with his in a slow and sensual kiss. Your hand snaked down to his boxers, barely rubbing against his hard-on before he grabbed your wrist gently. “If you do that, I’m gonna cum. And I want to cum while I’m inside you…”
The pout that formed on your face was inevitable, but you agreed, “Fine…but next time, you have to let me return the favour.”
His smirk grew as you insinuated there would be a next time. “Fine. Next time.” He kissed you again, fingers tangling in your hair as he groped your breasts again, groaning into the kiss. “I’m never gonna get over how soft your tits are…wanna fuck them.” He panted, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
A breathless giggle escaped you, “Maybe next time…” He took the answer you gave him, kissing you once more before flipping you to be on your hands and knees, your face pressed into the mattress as he grabbed at your ass.
“Fuck, is there anything about you that isn’t perfect?” When he saw you turn your head and part your lips to respond, he spanked your cheek gently, grabbing it to massage after. “Don’t answer that.”
It almost happened too quickly, he got the condom, slipped it on and pushed into you gently, rocking his hips into yours to make sure you adjusted to him properly. His hand reached under you, cooing at you to part your legs slightly so he could play with your clit. The sensations of his fingers stimulating your clit mixed with the rocking of his cock in you, you were a lost cause.
“Mm, f-feels…so good…” You moaned into the mattress, feeling him speed up more, probably trying to chase his own high as well. Your walls fluttered around him, making him groan deeply, leaning forward to press a kiss between your shoulder blades. “Yeah? S’my cock that good for your little pussy? Hmm? Fuck, you take me so well…”
You whined, your walls tightening more around him, that knot in your lower belly slowly becoming too much to handle. “F- fuck…K-Kook, m’gonna cum…” You said in a high pitched tone, trying to hold back for him for as long as possible.
“Shhh, it’s okay, baby girl. Let go for me. I’m right there with you…” He encouraged you, thrusting into you faster as he kept rubbing your clit. Your moans melded together as you both came undone.
He kept pumping into you until he was sure you were satisfied, a gentle hand coming to your hips to stabilize you as he pulled out, listening to your soft whine. He hushed you sweetly, laying your hips down to the mattress as he quickly disposed of the used condom. He came back to the bed, curling up behind you, nuzzling his face into your neck as he breathed in your scent.
“Mmm, you’re so pretty…” He whispered drowsily, smiling softly as he heard you giggle. He loved that sound so much.
“Sure, I look so pretty with messy hair and sweat covering my body.” You groaned, shifting to get more comfortable. It was his turn to chuckle, his arms wrapping around you tighter.
“Yes, you do.” The moment of peace was disrupted by the doorbell ringing. He furrowed his brows, looking at you before towards the bedroom door. “Give me a minute, I’ll go see who it is.” He murmured, kissing your temple softly before getting up and pulling on his boxers from before.
He was gone for a few minutes, quiet chatter echoing through the house, but it wasn’t loud enough for me to hear. You wrapped the sheet around your body, tugging it securely around you as you got closer to the bedroom door. Then you could hear it, Jungkook’s voice stern and low, something you hadn’t heard from him before. But who was he talking to like that? And then you understood…
“I want to see my daughter.”