Sorry For Documenting My Suffering And Delusions Online Do You Still Think Im Hot

sorry for documenting my suffering and delusions online do you still think im hot

More Posts from Hoonpalettes and Others

hoonpalettes

2 years ago

Diana and Acteon pas de deux

Vaganova Ballet Academy Graduation Performance 2014

Renata Shakirova and Alisher Kalibay

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hoonpalettes

2 years ago

꒰ 12:17 A.M. ꒱ ❛ drunk!aomine daiki x reader ༉‧₊˚✧

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊 at your phone screen, adjusting to the light coming of it in your dark bedroom, swiping the answer phone button. when you receive a drawled, “hey dummy,” whatever tiredness you were feeling moments prior is suddenly gone.

immediately, you can tell the man on the other end not sober. you smile at your friend’s deep tone. “hey stupid,” you greet back in amusement. “you still out with the guys?”

at your question, aomine seems to grumble under his breath, making laughter bubble in your throat.

“that bad, hm?”

“nah, nah.” in between his word’s there’s a slight muffle, probably from him rubbing a hand over his face. “we had a lot and half o’ them are annoying drunk. so i escaped.”

“escaped? where to? the bar’s bathroom?”

“no,” aomine answers your teasing tone with a clipped remark. “i’m in the back by the pool tables.” there’s a pause before a thoughtful, “you suck at pool.”

you nod grimly, though he can’t see. “always an honest one. you can’t just once sugar coat an answer?”

“sugar coating is for loser, loser.”

nice to know he’s still just as insulting while under the influence. still, you smile at his words.

“alright well, the boy’s’ll be searching for you soon,” you say, recalling kise’s character and guessing he was a few minutes away from gathering an aominecchi search party. “thanks for the check in. get home safe, okay?”

“wait, don’t hang up so soon,” aomine grunts and you can just imagine the deep(er) furrow of his brows as his mouth lifts into a frown. “still wanna talk to you.”

“i am your most interesting friend albeit a dummy, aren’t I?” you ask, confident sigh leaving your lips. a yawn escapes you as you switch on the bedside lamp next to you, further squinting at the sudden contrast of light. he doesn’t answer your question, and if it weren’t for the buzzing background noise of the bar across the line, you’d think he hung up. “aomine-?”

“don’t make me say it.”

Seguir leyendo

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hoonpalettes

2 years ago

i actually like tumblr bc no one else in my social circle has it so as the hypocrite that i am i can peacefully talk shit about them without them knowing

BUZZ LOVE — yang jungwon (teaser)

SYNOPSIS Y/n only intended to bring lecture notes to her friend on the swim team, but instead, she left with a wet notebook and a flustered expression. After getting saved from drowning by Yang Jungwon—someone she didn’t even know existed—he began appearing practically everywhere she went, causing a buzzing attraction towards Jungwon. The only thing is, they don't talk even after that incident. How would she get closer to him with these so-called obstacles?

PAIRING tsundere-swimmer!jungwon x student-fem!reader

GENRES swimmer au, strangers/classmates to lovers, college au.

WARNINGS a brief mention of drowning, lmk if i missed anything else!

WORDCOUNT 592 words

The outcome of yesterday’s race wasn’t something Jungwon had expected. He had already qualified for his own 50M freestyle race but the relay was more important, especially to Minhyun.

Really, Jungwon didn’t do much to upset Minhyun ever since he joined the team a year ago but he still didn’t get why Minhyun hated him so much. His outburst yesterday was anything but surprising. It always happened after an unwanted ranking but Jungwon was so used to it all that he didn’t bother reacting this time.

He shook off his thoughts and jumped into the pool, sinking to the bottom immediately. The sound of the water droplets drowning out any of his problems and soothing the soreness in his arm made him smile at the slightest. Practice wasn’t until 5:00 PM meaning he had a lot of time (about 2 hours) to himself.

He swam towards the surface and flipped over onto his back as he let the water engulf the parts of his body. He stared up at the high ceiling in silence. He wondered how things could’ve been if he was able to surpass that one swimmer ahead of him before they both reached the wall. Would they have successfully made it to finals or would they have been disqualified? It was a question that’s been bothering him ever since the bus ride home, but with the current state of the team, there was no way for him to get an answer.

Jungwon took his time and swam back down to the bottom of the pool in an attempt to distract himself. It barely worked for the most part but he could still tolerate it for a while.

“Just because he has practice doesn’t mean he needs me to bring him notes every now and then. Plus, I can’t even reach him! So what’s the point?” You mumbled while walking down the halls of BeLift. You looked at the notebook in your hands and rolled your eyes at the thought of meeting your friend, Jeonghyeon.

This wasn’t the first time he’s asked you to lend him the notes from a lecture he had right after you and you were always able to reach him but today was different. He wasn’t picking up his phone at all, he was probably fooling around with some girl on campus.

You shuddered at the thought of your close friend being with another girl and opened the doors that lead to the pool. This was your last resort, he better be here or else he was dead meat the moment you lay your eyes on him.

You searched the quiet area for Jeonghyeon at the entrance but there was still no sight of him. You sighed and continued your walk down the poolside with caution but there still was no sight of Jeonghyeon. This only made you even more frustrated. “Really, he makes no sense!” You exclaimed. You walked towards the bleachers for a seat while pulling out your phone from your pocket.

Without paying much attention to your surroundings you held a notebook in one hand and your phone in the other as you searched for his contact. You called him pretty recently so it wouldn’t take long to find it, or maybe it would, who knows?

You searched and searched but there was no sight of his contact confusing you even more. Because of this, you sighed from frustration and increased your walking speed—which was a terrible choice by the way, because next thing you know, you were in the pool, soaked while trying to make out the blurry sight nearby.

TAGLIST: @soov @redm4ri @ox1-lovesick @urszn @feeeli @taejays @hanniluvi @dakkisz @dimplewonie @ddeonudepressions @xiaoderrrr @ja4hyvn @mmaplepastries @essmarye @w3bqrl @jennaissantes @yenqa @yeokii @yooonz4u @yyunari @shoyotime (IT’S OPEN!)

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hoonpalettes

2 years ago

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hoonpalettes

2 years ago

what a handsome flirt

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hoonpalettes

1 year ago

all for the sake of throne — psh (m)

pairing: king!sunghoon x queen!reader

genre: explicit, royalty au, marriage au, not minor friendly

synopsis: as a king, sunghoon was perfect. He was intelligent, kind, confident — basically everything a woman would want, not to mention how great he was in bed as the cherry on top. But why did his wife seemed to disagree? Did she really hate him or was it all an act? Sunghoon didn’t know, but he was for sure sick of hiding his feelings.

warnings: dom!king hoon, he’s a little annoying but in a hot way, lovers in denial, hint of e2l, small plot, bathtub s*x, unprotected s*x, mentions of kitchen s*x, cute love confession at the end, this is mostly cute imo

word count: 2.7k

note: this is practically my version of the even days on Queen Charlotte, enjoy 🫰🏼

Let’s get over with it, you thought to yourself, standing before the glorious gates of the king’s room as you pushed them open, walking inside with a confidence that was half fake.

You did not like doing this, not one bit, yet you weren’t given the luxury of making your own decisions.

After all you had one task — birthing a new heir for the throne, it couldn’t be that hard now could it?

However it was, it really was hard with a person like him — with a person who’s not only a know it all but also as stubborn as a goat.

Gosh, he was so annoying with his stupidly handsome face and no, you did not care if it was a treason to call him that.

But the hardest part wasn’t the fact that you had to perform the “marital act” with him every other day on even days of the week, it was the fact that you had to hide that you actually liked it and that you were not being pretentious.

Why the hiding, you wonder? Because he was a jerk, a great king for his nation, true, but a trashy husband to you. And if you were supposed to age together, he had to improve, whether he liked it or not.

Which was why you were determined to get on his nerves just as much as he did to yours, thinking that it could make him question his perfect self, maybe for the sake of his marriage.

And well, given that he also was tired of hiding his feelings for you, that sly plan of yours seemed to have hope.

“We’re supposed to spend the night together.” You said as you stood before the bathtub that Sunghoon, who happened to be the mentioned king and husband, was bathing in, “It’s an even day today.”

Oh yeah, right, even day, he thought as he eyed you up and down, lips curling up to a smug smirk which dictated the fact that he liked your nightgown.

You looked astonishing, just like how you always did.

It was really a shame that he won’t be telling you that though, since you were treating him as if he was your enemy ever since your first morning together, making him wonder what he did so wrong.

I mean, you were newly wedded, both of you had given consent for this marriage so what was the issue? Why were you so mean to him?

He honestly didn’t have a clue, but it was true that his patience was running out thanks to you, and your cute little grumpy face.

“Leave us.” He ordered at the young man, his servant, who was standing by the door.

As the young man followed his command, you slipped out of your slippers, trying to untie the knot above the tiny buttons of your gown to take it off of you, but failing miserably despite your continuous attempts.

“Just get in.” Sunghoon bluntly spoke, eyes looking somewhat amused as he laid in the tub clothless, his muscular body full on display before you.

Yes he was unbearable as a person, but let’s be honest, he was hot as hell — maybe even hotter thanks to his cockiness.

Without rejecting, you did as you were told, stepping inside the warm water, letting it wet the long skirt of your gown as you kneeled in between his legs.

He didn’t resist your touch once you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer, lips resting merely an inch away from each other as you both sighed with expectation.

He was the one that closed the unnecessary gap, pushing his plump lips that you secretly really liked kissing on yours.

You leaned over as you kissed him back, placing your legs on both sides of his thighs, letting him pull you on his manhood with the grasp he had on your waist.

He was eager, so eager, and why did you enjoy that?

It felt like you were both in a rush to feel each other, almost as if you were doing this out of love and not because you were forced by the elders, aka his mom and her useless council of lords.

Well, calling this love would be bold but one thing was for sure, and it was that no power in the world could force either of you into doing something you didn’t like.

So yeah, despite the fact that none of you admit it, the even days of the week were for sure your favorite.

The way you both hissed once his tip brushed over your entrance was a living proof of that as you broke the kiss for a brief second, wanting to take a look at his handsome face.

He was frowning, biting his lips as you sank down on him, taking him more and more gradually until there was nothing left outside.

Ugh that feeling — the feeling of him filling you up to the max, it was freaking perfect.

His hands were now roaming on your body, caressing your back and playıng with your breasts over the thin fabric that weighed on you.

He groaned once you started to rock your hips on his, digging his nails into your skin almost as if he was trying to leave a mark behind.

The way you squeezed him tightly with your warmth was one thing, he was in love with it, true, but what drove him insane was the look on your face — the look of pure pleasure as you began to ride him, mouth gaping open to leave the most beautiful whimpers he has ever heard.

Ugh seriously, how dare you could be so attractive when you were so rebellious? He couldn’t stand that, you know?

You truly deserved a punishment for that, queen or not.

Placing both hands on your hips, he led you into a faster pace, all the while sneakily making his way back to your lips, enclosing them with his needy ones.

God he hated you, he hated to feel so needy for you, he hated the fact that he was burning for you while you treated him like shit, causing him to go mad all alone with the thoughts of you spiraling inside his mind.

But he loved you, he loved you so much that he was enduring it for you, pretending to be okay with it all — pretending to be only doing this for the sake of the throne.

Whereas he didn’t even care for an heir, not a single bit, no, he was just lying to not give you the upper hand.

Because how could he just confess his wild love for you when you were complaining about how bothering it was to have him breathing in the rooms of your palace just the other day?

Yeah, it was true that you made up for yourself after that with how you let him fuck you on the dinner table but let’s be honest, it was still really rude, even for you.

He couldn’t just forget about that, could he?

But honestly, he sort of really wanted to, especially when all he cared about was the way you made him feel every time he touched you, every time he made you his and every time he filled you up with his seeds — just like how he was about to do right now.

“Close,” you mumbled, arching your back as you let your head fall behind, your lips separating from his to expose more of your gorgeous neck for him, “I'm close, do not slow down.”

He scoffed, speechless at the audacity you had then again. You were giving orders to the king himself without a single care in the world, surely you were a mad woman, maybe as mad as him even.

Or maybe you were his perfect match, just like his servant pointed out the other day.

Giving a light squeeze to your buttocks, he trailed his hands on your body, reaching to your neck to wrap his hands around it. He didn’t forget to fondle your tıts on his way there, loving the way they were perfectly fitting in his palms.

After his long fingers were placed tightly around your throat, he pulled you down, speaking against your lips before he kissed them, “You can be a lady for once and ask for it kindly, you know,” he whispered, sarcastic with his tone, “it won’t kill you, I promise.”

“Please,” you replied, which was enough to surprise him as he froze in his spot, suddenly gulping down was an unmanageable task at the sound of your whiny request, “just don’t slow down, please.”

Shaking his head, he tried to break the spell you just unknowingly casted on him, “See,” he cleared his throat, pretending his best to seem unbothered, “it was not that hard now, was it my queen?”

“It was, actually,” you disagreed, pecking his lips with a shit eating grin on your face, “my heart almost stopped as I was saying the p word, my king.”

He giggled, biting his lips as he moved closer to give you a proper kiss, his tongue melting on yours once he poked it inside your mouth.

Although the conversation between you could be called cute, his thrusts and his kisses couldn't be included in the same category.

Guess he isn’t such a gentleman when it comes to making love, you thought, secretly enjoying this side of him.

And by the passing second, he only became more and more aggressive, the pressure in between your legs increasing a crazy amount with every push of his hips.

“Sunghoon ..” you called out for him in between sloppy kisses, struggling to keep yourself on your knees with the way they trembled.

“I know, do not worry,” he whispered, feeling the same way as you, desperately craving his high, almost like a teen boy, “I won’t stop until you’re there, I promise.”

And oh dear God, the list of things that he could sacrifice over the way you kissed him right now, it had no limit.

This was the first time he’s seen you being so needy, so passionate and so defenseless with him that he couldn’t help but to wonder if the whole “I hate your existence” thing that you got going on with him was fake.

Perhaps you were pretending just like him, but what for?

Now that he thought about it, maybe he hasn’t been a good husband to you and maybe — that was the reason behind your small riots.

If that was the case, then there was hope for your marriage, which without a doubt was all he asked for.

For sure you had your reasons to be beefing with him, I mean he had many faults towards you — like leaving you all alone at the first night of your marriage just so he could ‘observe the stars’ in his private observatory, but in the bigger picture it really was not his fault either.

He was raised to be a king, to be perfect, to be a scientist, to be a role model — not to be a husband unfortunately, and that hasn’t been a problem until after you’ve arrived.

Don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t complaining, it was just that your existence near him changed more than he thought.

First of all it changed him and it really was harder than you could guess to adjust.

Just a few days back he was a young boy who did not care for anything else besides the planet Venus, yet today the only thing that he was thinking about was you, and what he could do to impress you, in hopes of making you hate him less.

So to put it shortly, he just needed some time to make everything perfect, that was all.

It was your pretty voice what pulled him out of his trans as you were calling for the name of god after his. Your body was collapsed on his, your arms wrapped around his neck while you were panting against his ear, putting your last drop of energy to your legs in order to be able to keep on bouncing upon him.

“Shhh, you’re alright,” he whispered as he hugged your waist, taking some weight off your tired knees as he helped you with your movements using his strong arms, leading you up and down repeatedly, “I’ve got you y/n, it’s alright.”

“I’m … I-I think I’m …”

“Do it.” he cut your words, lips landing endless kisses on your neck as his grip tightened. His face was buried on your skin while he was trying to focus on his nearing high, hoping to arrange it at the same time with yours.

And he was successful with it, the seeds of your future generation spilling from his thick shaft into you, filling you up all good like your previous times.

Neither of you were quiet with your climaxes as you both groaned and sighed, hands all over each other, desperately searching for a space to hold on.

“Are you well?” he managed to utter after a while later, all breathless as he rested his face on your shoulders. You seemed just as exhausted as him, he could tell it from the way your heart was beating.

Yes, it was so loud that he could hear it, wasn’t that so cute?

“Mhm, I’m .. uhh .. fine.” you replied, forcing out your words with your half closed eyes, trying to remove yourself from where you were sitting on top of Sunghoon with your weak arms. “I should leave you .. um, good night.”

Now that you were done with each other, it was time that you left, right? I mean, It wasn’t like you had any good reasons to stay anyway.

Well, it looked like Sunghoon did not agree with you, not in the slightest bit.

“Wait — ” he stopped you, raising his head from where it was resting on your chest to look you in the eyes. And your eyes, lord, they were so beautiful. “Don’t leave tonight, just stay,” he said, using his kindest tone, “please, y/n, I’m asking you.”

“But — ”

“No buts,” he shushed you, caressing your lips with his thumb as he pressed it on them, “enough with this cold war between us, let us put an end to it already, yeah?”

You were left tongue-tied at his sudden offer, fluttering your lashes a few times as you observed his face. He was serious — sincere even, you could sense it with your heart, which was a first.

Were you surprised? hell yes, but this was a good thing.

He was trying to show that he was willing to take the first step for you and needless to say, it was as impressive as it was cute. He was probably freaking out on the inside, hoping miserably for you to take a step towards him as well, so that the unbearable gap between you two would vanish.

Clearing your throat, “Yeah,” you hummed, nodding your head, “I’d love that.”

“And no more even days or odd days,” he added, wrapping his arms around you even stronger, wanting to give you no space in case you tried to run away, “we shall have all of our days like this, together.”

Failing to stop your curiosity from getting the best of you, “But why now?” you asked.

I mean this was sweet and all, like who wouldn’t want peace with their husband but, what happened out of nowhere? You wanted to know, you had to know so you repeated yourself, “Why the change now?”

“Because I want my wife every day of the week, regardless of the date,” he answered, his eyes never leaving yours as they burned a hole through your soul, “I love her too much to let another day go to waste without her near me, that’s why.”

Wait, did you hear that right? Did he just tell you that he — ohmygod, did he just confess?

“Y-you … you love me?”

“I’m crazy about you, my queen,” he approved, a beautiful smile spreading all over on his handsome face as he leaned in to steal your breath with his lips once again before he whispered,

“I’m as crazy as a mad dog for you, if only you could see.”

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hoonpalettes

2 years ago

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 (𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒) ; 𝐏. 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

➞ SUMMARY. “Typical Park Sunghoon behavior, you think. He had to tease you about it, of course he had to do it even if you were about to die from embarrassment because you just dropped the L bomb on him. You knew him, so of course, it was dumb of you to think that he wouldn’t pull something like this just for the sake of his own entertainment.”

alternatively.

the one where you confess to your best friend, and even if he felt the same way, he wanted to push your buttons just for a little bit more.

➞ PAIRING. best friend!sunghoon x fem!reader

➞ GENRE. mutual pining. bff2l. fluff. slight angst if you squint and tilt your head.

➞ TW. kissing. swearing. mentions of throwing up and passing out. sunghoon is a teasing menace</3 my e2l relationship with him is showing… // supposedly proofread but it could contain one or two grammar mistakes.

➞ WORD COUNT. 2.8k words

↳ A/N. shoutout to diana @ddenoudepression for helping me choose the pic for this silly little fic🫶 ty bestie mwah // this one is inspired on the song “feelings” by lauv (hence the title) so !! hope you enjoy this one<3 | comments and reblogs with tags are always welcomed and deeply appreciated🤍

↳ find my masterlist here.

THERE’S CALM SILENCE IN THE ROOM, BUT GRAINY STATIC SOUNDS INSIDE YOUR HEAD.

You’re laying side by side with your best friend in your bed, your breathings being steady and calm. The moon shines through the see-through curtains and there’s a comfortable silence between both of you.

Well, at least for Sunghoon, since you can’t seem to find peace with your rushing thoughts, overthinking because, at any given moment, if the boy just listened carefully and paid more attention to his surroundings, he could probably hear your heartbeat going at thousands miles per hour for him.

His arm is slightly brushing yours, and his hand is almost touching your hand, the distance being so little yet you found it to difficult to end it; you yearn to reach out, to intertwine his slender fingers with yours.

How would it feel to be able to hold hands with him?

You hear him sigh deeply and then, he raises a little from his lying position and rests his head on his hand to rest on his right side. His silver hair is a mess, and you have to fight back the itching of your fingers caused by how badly they ached to touch his soft locks and comb it out of his pretty face. His brown, sleepy eyes are now on your form, looking attentively at you with tenderness hiding behind them.

(It’s not like you can actually see it, though: it’s pretty dark and you’re just trying to not stumble over your words with your feelings bubbling up in your throat and threatening to spill all over the place.)

(Now that would be chaotic.)

“Why did he have to look this ethereal even when he isn’t even trying? This is beyond unfair.”

“This is the quietest you’ve ever been since I know you, Y/n,” the boy barely whispers with his deep voice, as he was trying to not scare you by suddenly talking. You scoff, rolling your eyes a little.

“It’s pretty late now, you know? I’m just feeling tired, that’s it...”

There’s a beat of silence and then, you hear him humming deep in thought as if he wanted to add something more, but he quickly discards the idea as it comes. You see him shake his head, opting instead on giving you a small boyish smile.

“Okay, if you say so.”

It’s when he’s about to lay completely in bed again, that you suddenly sit up and look at him (and you realize that it was a really bad idea since you got a little dizzy from the quick movement). The boy sits up too, eyeing you with something between confusion and curiousness. He blinks twice, and tilts his head a little.

“Uhm... Are you sure you’re okay, y/n?”

No, you want to tell him. This isn’t okay Sunghoon, I’m not okay. Because whenever I see you, I feel as if a fucking lighting bolt just hit my body, making me feel electrified, I feel like I want to throw up for these bottled feelings i’ve kept inside my for months now, and I feel like I could just do the most imposible things if I have you at my side. I want to scream and I want to laugh and I fucking hate it but I also I fucking love the way you make me feel. You make me feel things I thought I’d never feel and—

“Uhh, earth to y/n? Are you there?” He snaps his fingers in front of your eyes, taking you out of your discourse. Shaking your head, you give him a pointed stare.

It’s time Y/n! a small voice screams inside your head, do you want to be a fucking coward all your life? You have to tell him! There’s nothing to lose, right? Only your friendship... oh my god, you could face rejection too? What if he thinks you’re—

“Y/n you’re really scaring me right now, are you sure you feel okay? You really seem like you’re going to pass out at any moment.” He puts a hand on your forehead, flinching wide eyed when he feels the heat of your body, “god! You’re burning! Should I call Jungwon?... No wait, What kind of question is that? Of course I'm calling him!” He face-palms himself, taking his phone out quickly as he starts searching for Jungwon’s phone number.

Jungwon? Why would he call him? Maybe because he’s the most responsible out of your friend group… Yeah, Jake would probably just panic and cry, and Jay wouldn’t even answer his phone since he was probably sleeping right now… Am I zoning out? I’m definitely zoning out— NO, WAIT!

You hold his wrist in panic and he mirrors your expression. He was so confused, why were you acting so weird tonight?

“No wait, I’m really okay Sunghoon.. It’s just that—“ you clear your throat, trying to focus your eyes everywhere else except him. Do you really want to confess? “‘—I’ve been… I’ve been thin–thinking lately—“

“Oh,” he interrupts, holding a funny look in his eyes and dropping his phone besides both of you. “Oh. I know what is happening then.”

Those seven words escaping his mouth makes your stomach drop in anxiousness. Did he really know?

Sunghoon always prides himself on knowing you like the back of his hand, and while that would be endearing in a different context, now this felt like it could backfire at you right in this situation.

“W–what? You know? W–wait Sunghoon—“

However, his next actions make the words die in your throat before you can even start to pronounce them, because the boy proceeds to boldly cup your face with both hands and smirk at you.

Is he gonna kiss me? No wait, I don’t think I’m ready. Oh no, the panic is settling in, I’m about to pass out because my crush is gonna kiss me and he’s going to have to call both Jungwon and an ambulance for real this time and–

“Yeah! It’s weird since I really didn’t think you could think? But that probably explains why it started to smell like something was burning in here. You were just trying to use that pretty little head of yours!”

He softly knocks on your forehead as if it was a door, and when you don’t say anything to him, instead choosing to stare blankly at him with those gorgeous eyes that he loved the most, Sunghoon allows himself to fall into a laughing fit. You don’t even know if you want to punch him for his teasing antics, calm your erratic heartbeat and tell your soul that it’s safe to come back before it could completely leave your body because he hasn’t discovered your —not so— secret crush on him, or feel disappointed because he’s definitely not going to kiss you. Pushing him in a rather hasher manner (which… wasn’t intended at all) his cackling comes to an end with a small yelp when he almost falls off the bed, having to get a hold of your arm to prevent it from happening.

“You’re a fucking dumbass, Park Sunghoon!”

He gives you a goofy smile, his heart fluttering inside his chest at seeing you try to bite back a smile. “But you’re laughing too!”

You snort, shaking your head. “I’m trying to be all serious here, and you just had to say your stupid comments!”

You unconsciously pout in frustration, making his smile grow ten times wider. Clearing his throat, he straightens his back and makes a hand gesture as if to tell you to keep talking.

“Well then. I promise you I’m going to keep my mouth shut,” he raises his pinky finger and intertwines it with yours, kissing it to seal the promise (and almost making you blush.) “Speak now Y/n.”

Speak now, but not as the Taylor Swift song (you loved that song, by the way), this “speak now” was more like: confess your feelings now or die regretting not taking the opportunity when it was offered to you, later.

(“Your time is running out, and they said ‘speak now’”… Huh, if you think about it closely, every single Taylor Swift’s lyrics can be applied on a daily basis’ situation.)

Stopping your train of thought before you can zone out —again—, you sigh deeply, straighten your back and mirror his sitting position so you can look at him dead in the eye.

Fuck it, let’s do this.

Counting down to three in your head, you gulp down the nervousness.

“I—I think I’m... I’m in love with you Sunghoon.”

Impressive how six words and twenty-nine characters can be so simple yet still be hard to pronounce out loud, especially because of the heavy feelings lingering behind them. Your confession leaves your lips in a rather hushed tone, and if it wasn’t for the dead silence and the closeness you both were sitting in, he probably wouldn’t have ever heard it.

But he did. Of course Park Sunghoon heard your love confession, because if he hadn’t, then what would explain the bewildered expression he was sporting right now?

Did you... Did you just say you love him? Was this a joke? Did Niki tell you to say this to him to see how he would react?

Scratch that away. No, you’d never play along to a joke like that, especially involving him —your best friend— with something like this.

He feels his head going in a frenzy as he tries to search for some logical explanations, his breath hitches in his throat and his heart is going wild like he just has run a thousand mile marathon. You loved him, that’s what you said, right? Was his mind playing weird tricks to mess with his feelings because he was sleepy?

There was no way that you, the person he has been pinning for years now, has really told him that she’s in love with him.

He stares at you, dumbfounded at the recent information you had unfolded at him. Sadly, you can’t listen to his thoughts just to know that the feeling is, indeed, mutual. You can no longer breathe in that uncomfortable silence you just created for the both of you.

Damn, so this is what the second leads from the k-dramas you binge watch on netflix feel whenever they get rejected.

Oh my god, I’m so dumb right? I’m not just a clown: I’m the whole act! No– wait, it’s worse: I’m the entire fucking circus! Okay, okay, breathe. Let’s not panic. We keep ourselves cool and exit like a girl boss… A girlboss that just got rejected–

Blinking down the tears that were threatening to form, you stand up from the bed and look ahead of the door.

“Uh, sorry about all of this,” stumbling over your words, you start walking away. “Just— just forget I ever said anything, okay? I–I think I should get going—“

“No, wait!”

Sunghoon’s quick on his feet, rising from his seating position too before you can get further away from him. He pulls you by your hand, making you collide against his strong chest.

Well, if you weren’t panicking before, now you are, starting to feel the embarrassment along with the warm blush slowly creeping up your neck to make its way to your face. Right in this moment, you were thankful that your face wasn’t available for Sunghoon to see, because you knew you would get teased to no end.

There’s some seconds of silence after that, you get to perceive everything ten thousand times stronger, from the soft fabric of his turquoise sweater that you were gripping with your fingers, to his musky cologne. And maybe it was because you were too mortified because of the situation, because if you’ve paid more attention, you’d have also seen how Sunghoon was fighting for his life because having you this close to him was making him melt.

It was like something taken straight out of his daydreams. Sunghoon has always wanted to hold you this close to him.

But even if he wanted to voice out his feelings too, the little devil on his left side was telling him to push your buttons just a little bit more. He wanted to dwell in the effect —he just recently discovered— he had on you.

Clearing his throat to call for your attention (which is pointless since you keep your gaze fixed somewhere else instead of him), you hear his breathy voice calling your name.

“Y/n…” You feel one of his arms sneaking around your waist, making your breath hitch in your throat. “I—I understand it, you know? And I totally feel you.”

You feel your composure slowly dissolving at hearing those words.

“What?”

Sunghoon hums. “I totally get it, I mean; who wouldn’t fall in love with me? I mean, look at me!”

He parts away from you a little and points at himself proudly. You can’t even process those words, staring at him speechless.

Was he… teasing you for having a crush on him?

Blinking three times at the tall boy in a shocked state, the realization dawns upon you after he starts laughing at your flabbergasted face. Typical Park Sunghoon behavior, you think. He had to tease you about it, of course he had to do it even if you were about to die from embarrassment because you just dropped the L bomb on him. We are talking about Park Sunghoon here: your best friend since you wore diapers, your best friend since boys thought girls had cooties and your best friend since you were through your awkward teen years when everything felt uncomfortable and your classmates shipped the both of you together. You knew him, so of course, it was dumb of you to think that he wouldn’t pull something like this just for the sake of his own entertainment.

God, now he was just being plain stupid.

The red in your face gets stronger with each minute that passes, so punching him in the chest, you cover your face with both hands to hide away from him. You feel his arms enclosing your waist again to pull you closer, his chest vibrating against you as you hear his joyful cackling against your ears.

You internally curse Jake for telling you that your crush wasn’t one-sided at all. (And he was right, Sunghoon was the most obvious person when it came to stare at you like you were the one that put the stars in the sky, and talk about you like you were the eight wonder. You just happened to be very oblivious)

“Please god, end this or end me now. Whichever you’d like to do first” you think.

You’re too focused on your internal monologue that you don’t even notice Sunghoon’s laughing fit coming to an end.

“Hey, Y/n? Look at me.”

You huff, shaking your head in denial.

“... No, leave me alone”

He hugs you tighter with one arm, the other letting go of your waist and reaching your face so he could pull away your hands covering your flushed face. When he gets what he wants, he searches for your eyes.

His face is inches away from yours, you can feel his breath fanning against your lips and his eyes hold so many stars that it makes your stomach do a flip. Cupping one side of your face with his hand, he puts his thumb against your lower lip.

“Not gonna lie.. I wanted to be the first one to confess. But,” he shrugs, a small smirk making its way in his handsome features, “oh well… Looks like you just beat me to it.”

Pause. Rewind… What?

“Sunghoon,” you voice out threateningly, “I swear to god, if you’re just—“

You’re not even halfway your comment before the white haired boy leans in and closes the space between the both of you, his lips capturing yours in a tender kiss. Everything about it screams love and adoration for you, and it makes you feel dizzy. His mouth moves softly against yours while his thumb caresses your cheek. You sigh softly against him, and the boy can’t help but grin into the kiss.

Separating after some seconds to catch some air, the boy can’t help but coo in adoration at seeing your eyes fluttering. Sunghoon rests his forehead against yours and smiles.

“I swear I’d never play with something like this, Y/n.” He says now with a serious tone and a determined look in his eyes. Then, he leaves a chaste kiss on your forehead, and on your cheek. “I’m in love with you too, I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. Crazy right? But,” he shrugs trying to play it cool, “I can’t help it, you’re just too perfect.”

Sunghoon ends his little love confession with a small kiss on your nose, melting on the inside at hearing you giggle.

You feel your chest warming up at his antics and at his heartfelt words.

In that moment, you swear that one of these days, Park Sunghoon was going to be the death of you.

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @pshchives @squiishymeow @noa-record @wonielvr @sunoksunny @chaerybombs @strwberrydinosaur @reinahwanggg @stepout-09-15 @ahnneyong @j-wyoung @yjjungwon @ghostiiess @boowoowho

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hoonpalettes

1 year ago

angel in the marble

after you fail to pickpocket him, the famous yet arrogant artist Jeon Jungkook takes you off the streets to make you his servant, and the more you know him, the more you realise he's not as detestable as everyone claims he is.

♔ PAIRING: michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader

♔ GENRE: high renaissance au, angst, smut, humour

♔ WORD COUNT: 8k

♔ WARNINGS: homelessness, stealing, mild swearing/violence/drinking, 90% of this is bickering lmao, mentions of minor characters' death, jealousy and kinda possessiveness?, referenced unconsensual groping (not by jk), a bit of blasphemy, making out, groping, fingering, rough angry sexxx, choking, slapping

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: fun fact this is mostly historically accurate! jk's characterisation, the grocery list doodles, the sack of rome, the beef with his brother, the encounter with his rival (raphael)... are all taken from michelangelo's actual life, even some stuff is quoted from his letters lol. man was fanfic material.

1529, Rome

“How much for that one?”

“No, that one’s sold already.”

It was a lively morning. After days of heavy rainfall, those of high social class were eager to get out and meet under the gentle sun of spring, whose glare reflected on the precious stones of their jewellery; while those of low, out of necessity, couldn’t wait to reopen their businesses or set up their stalls and get back to work. You liked to eye them all as you strolled the streets of Rome.

“To whom?”

“Your friend Taehyung.”

“Agh… How much is that prick paying you?”

The point of the matter was that it was bustling, some colliding if they looked away from where they were going for more than a breath. It worked in your favour for it was then easier to make yourself scarce right after stealing bags of coins, such as those of the three men seemingly bargaining by a workshop’s entrance out of which a large block of marble was being dragged. Perfect.

“Three ducats.”

“Three?! He’s robbing you of two ducats. I’ll pay you the five it’s worth.”

You kept your head low as you approached the pair that seemed wealthier and with those stealthy hands of yours unfastened the bags tied to their belts. After all, pickpocketing was a skill you’d had under your own for some years now, so this was bound to go smoothly.

Because you didn’t realise there was a guardian with them, perhaps you’d grown arrogant.

“I’m sorry, maestro. It’s reserved.”

“But it’ll become a waste in his possession!”

As you slipped away into the crowd, mouth watering at the fresh-baked bread you were going to devour as soon as bought, this brown dog leaped up at you out of nowhere, ignoring your desperate efforts to shake him off. If anything, they caused him to bark.

No, no, no…

The three men turned to the scene playing out not so far, and thinking his dog was bothering you one of them shouted, “Bam, come here, boy!” but as he obediently ran to his owner, you were too slow to hide the bags in your hands. It only took the pair a second to make them out, check whether theirs still hung on their belts, find them not, work out you’d stolen them, look back up, and find you not either.

Of course, you’d made your escape by then, dived into the sea of people and swum through them as quickly as possible, only stopping when you reached an empty vaulted alley to catch your breath.

That was ridiculously close. If you weren’t more careful next–

Your train of thought was interrupted by someone grabbing you by the arm from behind and pushing you against the nearest wall. A grunt accompanied the thud, and a gasp followed at the sight of the two men from before—dog included. Pinned in place, it’d be a bad idea to fight back or attempt to run away again. Fuck’s sake.

“Do you know what happens to thieves?” the one cornering you asked so close that when the cold breeze rustled his hair, some strands grazed your face. You looked away to avoid the tickling rather than out of fear, or so you wanted to believe. “They have a hand cut off. Seems fair, doesn’t it, Jimin?”

By contrast, that Jimin didn’t look intimidating, otherwise still catching his breath from the chase, but he did snatch the coin bags from your hands. “It doesn’t have to be so, maestro. We got our money back. She’s… just a girl.”

“And that exempts her of crime?”

“Please, don’t report me,” you begged, humiliating as though it was.

“Why shouldn’t we?” the maestro scoffed. Maestro… You were being threatened by a damned craftsman, the other one probably his assistant.

“Because I don’t want to lose a hand?”

“Oh, but we wanted to lose money, did we?” You rolled your eyes, and he released his grip only to step away. “Take us to your father, brat. He’ll answer for you.”

It took you a moment to respond, “I don’t have a father, or anyone... Only I can answer for my actions.”

“You’re a beggar?” Jimin asked, taking pity as he studied your appearance for the first time. Dishevelled hair, tattered dress, unpleasant smell… Yes, they should’ve guessed.

“She doesn’t beg, though, does she? She steals.”

“Only from cunts.”

His head snapped to meet your glare, and Jimin laughed, “You seem to not know whom you speak to.” He could be Jesus for all you cared. Uninterested, you petted the dog, Bam, seeing as he’d leapt up at you again. “This is Jeon Jungkook.”

You froze. The Jeon Jungkook? The famous artist who painted and sculpted for the Pope? Whom faraway kings and even emperors commissioned? The one whose genius was said to be changing the world?

At the lack of attention, Bam returned to his master, and that snapped you out of your shock to ask, “Then why do you whine?” The two men frowned, having clearly expected an apology paired with the usual bootlicking. “As if you need that bag more than I!”

“What nerve,” he scoffed again, making you wince by grabbing your arm tighter than before and starting to drag you into the next street. “You’re going straight to the authorities!”

“Wait,” Jimin intervened, thank God. “Weren’t you in need of a servant, maestro?”

“So?”

Jimin pointed at you with his gaze as though it was obvious. “You’re in need of a servant, she’s in need of a roof.”

“I would rather have a hand cut off.”

“I would rather have her hand cut off too.”

Jungkook tried to resume dragging you, but Jimin blocked his way with a soft smile. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N…”

“Do you know how to take care of a household?” Slowly, you nodded, melancholy engulfing you at the memory of cooking or sweeping the floor with your mother once upon a time. Somehow, she always found a way to make chores fun... “Then you qualify for the job. You’ll have three meals a day and a bed to sleep on. And you, maestro, a servant who’ll work her hardest, lest you fire her and she ends up in the streets again.”

Both you and Jungkook reluctantly glanced at each other. Truth be told, you didn’t prefer losing a hand to living with him, you just didn’t like him. Despite being a celebrity, he was a stranger. It just wouldn’t work.

But then, why were you holding your breath, hoping he’d accept?

“We shouldn’t have left Namjoon’s workshop. The marble is about to be delivered,” he said walking away. The air left your lungs in disappointment. It seemed you were to remain a stray cat. Jimin pressed his plump lips apologetically as he gave you enough coins to buy that bread, and you nodded, grateful all the same for his trying. You watched him rush to Jungkook’s side but when this one saw him, he turned around. “Hurry up, brat. If Taehyung gets that block of marble, I’ll not take you in.”

Since the first day, you could attest to Jeon Jungkook’s nature being as rough and uncouth as the rumours claimed, and after living alone with him for two months still believed gossip such as that he’d got the scar on his left cheek in a tavern fight—in which, if you’d chanced to be present, you would’ve rooted for the other individual.

It appeared it wasn’t just others Jungkook was harsh to. However rich his talent had turned him, he behaved like a poor man, consuming food and drink sparingly and out of necessity instead of pleasure, spending only the money required to live decently, sleeping little in order to work on commissions from dawn to midnight…

Why he chose to take little care of himselfwas a mystery to someone who previously had not been allowed a choice, even if putting work before all was in order to thwart Kim Taehyung’s plans of ruining his career, as he claimed. You doubted his rival was obsessed with him so, but had learned to agree with whatever Jungkook grumbled to avoid disputes. Most times.

Deep down, you had a feeling your boldness amused him. Who else dared get on his nerves?

“I think all you artists fluttering around the Pope are no more than slaves to money,” you let drop once while making his bed. Bam was sleeping peacefully under the window, while Jungkook leaning against the door’s frame behind you, offended to the core. He could help, you thought, or at least loosen my corset a little…

“I, a slave? I’ll be damned… There is an angel inside every block of marble, and I’ll have you know I carve to set it free.”

“Is it the angel that charges the Pope, then, master?” You could feel him barely restraining the urge to throw you out the window, smiled as you finished smoothing out the blankets.

“You missed a wrinkle there.”

Hands on your hips and frown on your brows, you examined the neatly arranged coverings of his bed. “Where?”

“On your face,” he muttered before making his leave.

Not his finest jibe, but the metaphor did stay with you. An angel inside the marble… It perhaps applied to Jungkook himself, though you’d never tell him.

One instance it came to mind was recently, when his assistants and apprentices were invited over for dinner.

Usually, he’d tell you which meals he liked and you’d ask at the marketplace which ingredients to buy, but now that about ten meals were to be cooked a list was needed. So there he sat on his desk in his study, inking said list as you waited in front of him, fiddling with the undershirt that peeked out of your dress’ sleeves. Given that your eyes were fixed on it, you only learned Jungkook was done when the sound of his quill scratching the paper ceased.

“Be back no later than dusk,” he ordered, “I bet there are still Germans and Spaniards lurking about.”

A year had passed since the Sack of Rome, but the mention of it sent a shiver of fear down your spine. Whatever the political reasons for it, you hated everyone involved, for Hell itself would’ve been a more beautiful sight to behold those nine months when the Tiber’s waters remained painted red…

You were lucky to make it through. Your family wasn’t.

“Yes, maestro.”

“Here,” he said handing you the paper, then picked another letter from a pile of correspondence he’d been going through before your arrival. Jungkook was about to snap its wax seal when he looked up to realise you hadn’t moved an inch. “Why are you here? Away with you!” He saw the reason in the way you avoided eye contact. “You can’t read, can you?” Met with a silence charged with embarrassment, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, “Give me the list.”

Getting hold of the quill again, Jungkook began… doodling?

You tilted your head but couldn’t see well what he was drawing until he finished and returned the list to you. Then, your lips parted. Each item on the list was illustrated next to its name: ten loaves of bread, a jug of wine, tortellini, four anchovies, two fennel soups…

“I’ll teach you to read when I have time. This will do for now.”

“You’d do that?” For me?

Jungkook ignored you, before he went back to reading his letters complimenting the good gesture with an irritated, “Hurry up.”

That night his co-workers arrived one by one, Jimin the first. The sight of him when you opened the door brightened up your mood.

Unlike a certain someone he was always sweet to you, genuinely interested to know how you fared even if you were just a servant. He claimed that mattered not to him, that you were both commoners and thus equals.

“Look at this place, it’s spotless! And you know I’m furtive, so I won’t get in your way,” you told Jimin as you escorted him through a hallway, bright from the torches hung on the walls that you’d lit up earlier.

He laughed, “I cannot make you my servant, Y/N, you’re maestro’s.”

“But he’s going to drive me mad… To tell you one of many examples, he often falls asleep in his clothes, and who but I is to take his boots off so they don’t get the sheets dirty? If the chalk on his fingers or the dust from the chiseling on his hair won’t already. Bam is far cleaner…”

Jungkook had a workshop he barely set foot in, preferred his team made use of it instead to not be bothered by their idiocy. His words. So it was in a chamber on the ground floor of this house he gave way to artistic insanity. In your book, that meant constant cleaning.

Jimin looked at you fondly. “Sounds nightmarish.”

“It truly is!”

As soon as the two of you entered the dining hall, Bam ran from Jungkook’s side by the fireplace to Jimin, who was as excited to see him.

“Good night, maes–”

“Do you think I’m deaf, ungrateful brat?” Jungkook interrupted him to bark at you. “Rome is full of people begging to get a piece of me, so if you don’t like it here, I’ll just get someone else!”

“You say that and yet keep me like a prisoner!”

“As if you don’t have it better here than anywhere you’ve burdened with your presence before!”

“There, there…” Jimin interjected to de-escalate, kneeling to better stroke Bam. “Maestro, I’ve seen your latest sketch of the Virgin and Child. She resembles Y/N.”

Both you and Jungkook failed to fight off the embarrassment, gazes unable to find a place to settle. Sitting down on the large table, he explained, “It was just one time… I had used Yoongi as a model, but the Madonna looked too masculine... and rather than going through the trouble of finding some girl and hiring her, I had Y/N pose for me… So what! Why bring it up out of nowhere…”

“Because maybe you just need a bit of distance from time to time. With permission, I too would have Y/N pose for m–”

“Absolutely not.”

“Now, why the hell not?” you groaned stamping your foot, startling poor Bam. Hope had been born inside you in a second and cruelly crushed in the next.

“Because I say so. And watch your tone with me.” As usual, the mutual glaring would trick anyone into thinking the next step would be murder. Jimin, who knelt there awkwardly, certainly thought so, at least until the bell rang. “Now go answer the door!”

What happened later, though, rendered the fury Jungkook had evoked in your heart nonexistent and instead seized the thing in a clasp of distress.

In the morning, he walked in when you were sweeping the kitchen. At once you forced the sobs to stop and turned around so he wouldn’t see you wipe your tears.

“It’s past nine, where’s breakfast?” he asked in shock that you hadn’t even started making it, the table there empty.

You swore under your breath before leaving the broomstick leaning against the nearest wall, flushed face kept out of Jungkook’s sight, then in a haste fetched a plate, a knife, and a leftover bread loaf. “Apologies, master, I forgot. I’ll be upstairs in a minute.”

Sniffling betrayed you, at which Jungkook frowned. “Are you crying?”

Great, the question just about especially designed to make one well up. Not trusting your voice anymore, you shook your head. Jungkook approached, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from the task at hand, now cutting a few slices of the bread.

“Have you broken something?” You shook your head again, the suppressed sobs making your chin tremble. Jungkook took a deep breath before asking with a surprisingly soothing tone, “Then what’s wrong?”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

Within an hour, he’d summoned a meeting consisting of all who’d attended dinner the previous night.

A seemingly calm Jungkook was sat at the head of the table, elbows sunk on it and fingers interlocked. You stood behind him, head still low out of shame. A tense silence had fallen in the chamber some time ago, and sick of it, Jimin shattered it.

“Have you anything to tell us, maestro?”

“I was waiting for Biagio to do so.”

The man was one of Jungkook’s favourite assistants who had worked with him for years, even longer than Jimin. And if it was possible for your position to be trickier, he belonged to some noble family.

“Me? But I’ve nothing to say, maestro.”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair. “My servant will, then. Y/N?”

Bastard. If you are going to fire me, why make me go through this?

“Last night, w-when I left this hall to go refill the wine jug… Messer Biagio followed me into the kitchen, and… h-he trapped me from behind, and started t-to touch me…” Your vision soon blurred, hence why you couldn’t see clearly how concerned Jimin was for you, or how Biagio jumped up in outrage. “I managed to push him away, and ran upst–”

“How dare you slander me, wench? Maestro, you do not believe this!”

“Do I not?”

“She’s lying! I caught her stealing sketches from your study, likely to sell them, so she’s trying to get rid of me!”

You almost scoffed. Only an idiot would choose the one occasion guests had come over and her absence would be noticed to carry out a theft.

Jungkook tilted his head. “I thought you had nothing to say. Why would you keep such a thing just now?”

Biagio gulped. “I deemed it best to mention it later, in private... You won’t believe a pickpocket before an old friend, will you?”

Silence returned, your breath still as you saw all the assistants and apprentices visibly take pity on him. The only one who didn’t was Jimin, but even on his face there was a hint of hesitation. Jungkook’s, you couldn’t see from behind, but after an eternity he stood up and walked over only to put a hand on the shoulder of Biagio, who smiled in relief.

A quiet sob broke through your lips, heart sinking. You’d needed Jungkook to believe you in this. Not because of the consequences his protection as your master could save you from, but because, like it or not… he was the closest thing to family you had.

It turned out he did believe you, judging by the punch landed on Biagio’s jaw out of nowhere. And the next one on his cheekbone, and on his nose. Before everyone around the table had barely stood up to stop Jungkook, he’d already thrown Biagio down and straddled him, pulling his doublet’s collar in a close, tight grip as he continued beating him up. Blood was drawn, but for once, you didn’t mind having to scrub it later.

Jungkook’s influence trumped a whole noble house’s, you learned in the course of the months Biagio tried his mightiest and failed most miserably to have him arrested. Perhaps because of the Pope sitting on his shoulder.

That he’d taken your side was still hard to believe, all he’d grumbled with a shrug when you thanked him while tending to his wounds from the fight being, “I’d been waiting for the chance. I always thought Biagio was a weasel.”

With the matter resolved, life returned to normal—well, whatever that meant in Jeon Jungkook’s household. Because calling for you at the top of his lungs like a madman was not normal. The first time he’d done it you’d raced downstairs, afraid something horrible had happened, only for him to have you close a window as it was getting chilly. Devil rot him. You rushed no longer after that, much to his complaints.

Today, he didn’t notice right away when you appeared under the cased opening, and good thing he didn’t, for he was polishing a bust with sandpaper… shirtless.

Product of hours carving stone into his desired shape or occasionally beating someone up, he could brag of having muscles, which the current task had covered in a layer of sweat and dust. The way they flexed with each movement had you compelled, wanting to reach out, feel if his skin was as hot as the blood pumping through your veins faster and faster. Then your gaze moved to the bust and whatever spell you were under broke.

Hardly an angel was that widowed noblewoman, whom you wished had stayed trapped inside a block of marble. Her name was Madonna Maddalena, and she’d come some weeks past to make a commission covered in pearls, gold, and boldness.

“My friends refused to accompany me today. You’re said to be… disagreeable, which I’m sure is untrue. However, all of them do want to know if you’re as fine-looking as is also rumoured, maestro” she told Jungkook within minutes of meeting him, still by the entrance!

Now you can tell them he’s not, you bit your tongue before it remarked, as this wasn’t Jimin but a patron not to be scared away by your bickering. It wouldn’t be true anyway. All your master lacked in manners, he made up for with looks… Which you’d never say out loud. You’d never say either that he looked even better when irked.

“I’ve heard many rumours about myself, most of them nonsense. My appearance was involved in none.”

She smiled seductively. “I suppose I’ll have to be the one to spread them.”

“The weather is pleasant today,” Jungkook changed the subject, flustered beneath the formal demeanour. “Shall we have wine in the garden?” You left to prepare it not before catching Maddalena raise her brow at you in disapproval. She must’ve been able to tell you thought she was a pompous cunt.

The beautiful flowers you cared for tried their best outside, but the air didn’t get any better.

Sat around a small table, Maddalena explained she wanted a bust of herself by his talented hand to decorate the main hall of her palazzo. You served them wine, not really listening until Jungkook started playing hard to get. The hundred times you’d told him it wasn’t a good tactic to make his labour out to be too prestigious had apparently fallen on deaf ears.

“Any other artist could carry this out, Madonna. I am working for the Pope these days…” he subtly scolded her, a mere mortal, for wasting his precious time. And he wondered why he had a reputation for being arrogant.

Maddalena put his thoughts into plain words, “So why should you stoop to taking commissions from an insignificant widow?”

“Correct,” you said under your breath, luckily heard by none from the background, where you stood holding a wine jug until the madonna raised her cup and you approached to refill it.

“It is then fortunate I’m to marry a nephew of the Pope’s.”

Swayed by her future influence, Jungkook smiled back. “So it is.”

“But not for another week. ‘Till then, I belong to no man.” The suggestion in her tone almost drove you to spill wine all over her. No, better yet: order Bam to sic on her. He’d do it.

Just, who did this woman think she was? And why did Jungkook not kick her out right afterwards? It made you wonder whether he’d enjoyed the flirtation. Whether he would’ve been the one to take things further had his inconvenient servant not been present. It was common for men to have affairs and lovers, but it didn’t sit well with you that Jungkook might. Not that you ever imagined him doing any of that, for goodness’ sake–

“What took you so long?”

Jungkook’s voice brought you back to the present, under the cased opening.

“I was lazing about, as always,” you quoted his favourite false reprimand, making him roll his eyes, your own dropping to the floor when he walked closer.

“In that case, prepare a bath for me.”

“Yes, master.”

You sighed at all the work ahead. That being a servant was worlds better than living in the streets didn’t mean you looked forward to collecting gallons of water from a well, carrying them back, heating them, transferring them to a tub, then washing Jungkook—because you did wash him.

Biagio had hurt his left shoulder bad and ever since, he’d needed assistance in certain activities. Curious how he could otherwise chisel a goddamned bust without problem.

Jungkook’s full nudity only made you blush if you stopped scrubbing, so knelt with tucked up sleeves before the wooden tub he was reclined on, scrubbing away the dirt on his skin with lavender-scented soap you were. Maybe all the stupid feelings you’d been suffering lately stemmed from there…

Head resting on the edge, he was exhausted from the long day of work, taking your rubbing as a relaxing massage. You, however, couldn’t ignore the stinging guilt, what with the scar on his shoulder right in front of your face. He probably felt your breathing on it.

“I’m sorry you got hurt…”

Jungkook fought heavy lids only to see you avoid him. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable in front of him was embarrassing, as when he’d caught you crying, but he didn’t take advantage of the fact to humiliate you. Jungkook may be an ogre, but he wasn’t cruel.

“I’ve received worse for less,” he assured you in a calm, low voice. It sounded soothing to your ears.

“That, I don’t doubt,” you scoffed, glancing at his other scar on the cheek. “Did you also get that one in defence of some lady?”

“You’re nowhere close to a lady.” It could be done, you mused. Drowning him. “This was courtesy of my brother.”

“You have a brother?” It dawned on you how little you knew of him. Surely, most had heard it all about the divine Jeon Jungkook, but you’d never cared enough to learn past the shell of gossip, even after months of living with him. In fairness, he’d never asked about you either. You preferred it that way.

“Brothers,” he corrected you. “The one who did this to me was a wayward fool. Had to teach him a lesson.”

“Looks like he taught one to you.”

“I left with a scratch, he with a limp.” The conception of two brothers hurting each other so harshly widened your eyes for a second, and Jungkook noticed, for he added, “He was whoring around, wasting the money I worked hard to send, bullying our other brothers as well.”

Much made sense about Jungkook all of a sudden. Not his personality, that was incomprehensible. But why he killed himself to earn money and yet barely spent it… He had a family to provide for. Once again, you were reminded of his metaphor. Could an angel be in there?

Carrying on washing Jungkook, you dragged the sponge over to his neck. Then his collarbones, his chest, his abs just peaking above the water... They did look like a sculpture’s, especially wet and soaped, reminiscent of polished marble when the light of the torches reflected on them. Swallowing hard, the back of your fingers gingerly graced Jungkook’s muscles, both soft and firm. Slippery. Whatever possessed you to keep feeling them, you lacked the will to expel from your body, and so without realising your grip on the sponge loosened until it fell to float away, fingertips now free to roam over his abs.

You were slowly trailing downwards, past the water’s surface, when your wrist was seized and held in the air in a warning manner, the startle almost making you scream.

Sat upright, Jungkook was glaring at you so fiercely you feared for your life. But he didn’t say anything and instead just breathed hard, jaw clenched… almost as if he was holding back. Your rising heartbeat was deafening in the silence waiting for something to happen, anything, but what did wasn’t what a side of you anticipated with excitement.

Jungkook just let go of your wrist and returned to his previous position, and you got hold of the sponge and finished washing him, albeit holding your breath the entire time.

Days later, you came dangerously close to being fired.

The Pope had summoned Jungkook—something about a portrait commission—and you were to carry his bag filled with sketches for him due to his shoulder injury. As you navigated the ever-busy streets of Rome with him, the cold autumn breeze made you regret not putting on an overgown. The cioppa you’d bought with your own salary and not stolen. It brought a smile to your lips that faded at the realisation your mother would’ve reminded you to put it on before going out.

The sorrow pestering you turned to confusion when Jungkook stopped walking and tsked, telling you loud enough to be heard by all, “Look at him, the chief of police, with such an assemblage.”

A well-dressed man and what appeared to be his entourage walked in your direction, halting near enough. You didn’t have to ask to know this was his rival, the renowned painter Kim Taehyung.

“Whereas you, like an executioner, walk alone,” he mocked Jungkook, then noticed you standing behind him like a timid child. “Not completely, my mistake. Maestro, where in your barren soil did you plant such a flower?” He walked over to you, intentionally bumping Jungkook’s wounded shoulder as he passed, causing him to grunt lowly. From up close one was bound to marvel at how handsome Taehyung was, but you didn’t need proximity to tell he was a prick. Miles away, you would’ve known. “Why don’t you come work for me, flower? I’ll make you my muse.”

Jungkook scoffed again, “What, for your horseshit paintings? She’d be a fool to.”

Taehyung turned around to face him, feigning confusion with a smile. “But, maestro, how could they be so if you were once heard saying that all I have in art, I got from you?”

"You naturally have to resort to plagiarising my master’s genius if all you do is horseshit,” you countered, earning surprised looks from every man present, some laughs too, you were proud to say. Jungkook was certainly smirking. Taehyung opened his mouth, but you walked past him uninterested before a response came out of it.

“Good girl,” Jungkook laughed while leaving the crime scene, and for some reason your cheeks burned hot.

The incident happened once inside the Vatican.

Its grandiose corridors alone made you feel small, too unimportant to walk them, whereas Jungkook did so with determination, knowing he belonged at the top of the world. What with your tempestuous relationship, it was easy to forget he was famous throughout Europe. His feet would still never be kissed by you. Someone had to humble the man, right?

At some point the two of you arrived at a door flanked by guards, and averse, you grabbed the sleeve of Jungkook’s doublet.

“Do I have to go in?”

“Too good for the Pope, are you?” He shook you off. “Come on.”

“Damn you…” you muttered.

“What did you just say to me?”

“After you, master.”

Telling himself he’d be late if he scolded you, Jungkook turned and nodded at the guards, who opened the door of a chamber whose walls were frescoed with angels and saints, likely by Taehyung, giving off the impression one was in Heaven. When you saw him sat on a golden chair, old and grey, enjoying the tune of a lute player, you felt as though you’d just entered Hell.

The audience lasted for ever. While you stood by the door, Jungkook showed the Pope some sketches of the portrait for him to choose his favourite and then they talked and talked of politics. All you could do was fix your gaze somewhere on the floor and sigh.

“Yes, Your Holiness, this is the servant I mentioned…” A frown proceeded your looking up to see Jungkook somewhat embarrassed, scratching his nose as if to hide his face. He talked of you to others? Doubtless to complain…

With a sweet voice as if he was talking to a little girl, the Pope asked you, “What is your name?”

“None of your business, Your Holiness.”

The musician’s tune ceased abruptly, allowing Jungkook’s faint gasp to be heard. Then fell a short silence spent by the Pope blinking, taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”

Jungkook was quick to fake a laugh, though sweat formed at his temples. “A jest! She meant no offence, Your Holiness, but to make you laugh.”

You held the Pope’s glare in defiance, indifferent to the fact he was the most powerful man in the whole of Christendom.

By some miracle, he let it go, and you left that chamber minutes later with your head as yet attached to your body. Your arm wouldn’t be for much longer, though, given Jungkook was forcibly dragging you all the way out to the streets, pushing you into the first alley he saw.

“Are you out of your mind?!” he shouted, towering over you menacingly. Unlike the day you’d met, you weren’t scared, rather furious as him as you stood your ground. “That was the Pope, you fool!”

“So?”

Jungkook was in utter disbelief. “He could’ve ordered your execution– mine too!”

“Well, nothing happened!”

“Nothing?! I’m sure to fall out of favour!” He paced around, anxiety quickening his breath. “Years of pouring my soul into my craft, of grovelling before the right people, all thrown away! Good God, your attitude may cost me everything…”

“And what about me?! Everything lost to me does not matter?!”

Jungkook stopped to frown. “What the hell are you talking about?”

It was now you who walked up to him. “I didn’t have a job, or a reputation, or admirers. I had only a family, and I never wished for anything else! That monster you work for took them from me. When the foreigners’ armies came and everyone rushed to Castel Sant’Angelo, he gave the order to close the gates as soon as he was safe behind them! You must have been there with him, weren’t you? Well, we weren’t. We were left outside to be slaughtered. And I wish I had been, like my parents, so I didn’t have to suffer the likes of you any longer!”

Tears were streaming down your face by the end, Jungkook just staring back at you. It didn’t surprise him that your parents were dead or that they’d been killed during the Sack, but that it was so deep a wound left festering in your heart that you didn’t mind being put out of misery. He surmised your disrespectful behaviour towards him was also fruit of your pain, especially if you deemed him an ally of the one who caused it.

“The few things I own… They’re wasted on me. Throw them away or give them to your next servant,” you sobbed, taking for granted you were fired. Anyone with half a brain would indeed have you dismissed, and part of you knew it was bound to happen, that you would go back to breaking in fucking churches to spend the night.

So you turned around into the main street, set on wandering until your legs became too sore not to collapse. With any luck, a carriage would run over you. But warmth then surrounded your hand, and you looked down to see Jungkook’s holding it tight enough to force you to halt. Though still mad, a hint of compassion sparkled in his eyes.

“Let’s… Let us just go home.”

Home. His house had felt so for a while now, truth be told. Himself too.

After that, you non-verbally agreed on a ceasefire—avoiding quarrels, that is, which was quite the task for both.

Such as now that Jungkook had you inking down a letter in his name. First of all, did you look like a scribe? If you’d known in advance the lazy arse would teach you to read and write for this, you’d have chosen to remain illiterate. And second, this was your short break before making dinner, intended to be spent playing with Bam. The poor thing was also in the study, at least being stroked by his owner, who was sat beside you on the desk.

“… I send you my regards, may God keep you from all harm. Jeon Jungkook in Rome,” he finally finished dictating, and you recording. “Give it to me, I’ll seal it.”

He was melting the wax with which to do so when the bell rang, to his surprise. Sighing, you stood up and went to open the door to whom turned out to be Jimin. The sight of him brightened you up, and yours stretched his lips into a smile.

“Evening, Y/N.”

“Good evening! I didn’t know the master was expecting you.”

“He isn’t…” You welcomed him in, brows joining at how he continuously chewed on his aforementioned lip and breathed deep through his nose as he followed you. Had something happened…? A decision to eavesdrop was made en route to the study.

Though Jimin requested for you to stay once there, and nothing could have prepared you for the reason why.

“This actually concerns Y/N…” You and Jungkook exchanged confused looks, him leaning against the desk and crossing arms as though he didn’t like the sound of that. Jimin fixed his already perfect clothes before addressing him, “I’ve come to ask for her hand in marriage.” Your jaw dropped. “I know it’s sudden at the lack of previous courtship, but I thought I should ask for your permission before engaging in it, maestro. She’s a lovely girl… and I think she’d be happy as my wife. Worry not, I won’t ask for a dowry or for her to stop working… Although on second thought, fewer hours of service would be ideal.”

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be happening.

Jungkook must be thinking the same, for he squinted to ask, “Are you drunk?”

“N-No, of course not.”

“Are you sure? You want to marry a servant with little to her name.” He had a point, so you weren’t offended. If politics weren’t the reason for a union, did this mean… Jimin had feelings for you?

“Maestro, you say it as if I were a lord,” he chuckled. “I don’t care about Y/N’s possessions, I’ll provide for her anyway. I’ve… always been fond of her. And I dare say she shares the sentiment.”

Betrayal hid safely behind a look that asked if there was any truth to that. Obviously not! There was no romance in your own fondness for Jimin. If anything, you had thought he saw you as a younger sister to look after, therefore as a protective older brother you saw him. But so shocked were you still that no words managed to come out, and Jungkook’s gaze shifted back to Jimin.

“I’ll think about it. You may go.”

A curt tone was the norm for Jungkook, it was not being granted his blessing that disappointed Jimin. He knew for a fact he was an honourable man, so why wouldn't he entrust you to him?

“Quite well… I’ll show myself out.” he uttered, before making his leave failing to hide his low spirit by giving you one last shy smile you hadn’t the heart to return.

An awkward silence filled the air that even Bam daren’t break. Only once the front door was heard shutting did you walk closer to Jungkook.

“You won’t agree to this, will you?”

“Why shouldn’t I? I have to get rid of you at some point.”

“Rid of me? Like I’m a burden?” you asked, voice rising. How a servant could be so was unknown to you until, like wooden ship toys did when you’d submerge them in a bucket of water as a child, certain guesses surfaced in your thoughts. Trying to pickpocket him, the constant clashing, Biagio, that bath, the Pope… Yes, you may perhaps be described as a burden. But you didn’t want to leave. With a calmer tone, you pleaded, “I’ll behave from now on. I won’t cause any more trouble, I swear.”

Jungkook didn’t deign to look your way as he left, followed by Bam. “You have to marry at some point, Y/N. Otherwise people will gossip.”

Since when did he care about what people said of him? And why should you?

Winter having dropped its anchor, nightfall arrived early. Not early enough, you brooded as you cooked dinner, longing for the day to end once and for all. With any hope, all of this was a nightmare and upon waking up in the morning life would go back to normal. You didn’t even know why you wanted to stay with Jungkook, as the occasions in which you’d begged Jimin to employ you to leave this house were countless. The only certain thing was that you were upset.

Later, after washing all plates and cups, you began to put off all torches lighting the house, finding out in the hall that Jungkook hadn’t moved from the seat he’d dined in. You considered carrying on with your job and leaving him in the dark, but he wouldn’t find it as funny. Instead, you stood before him.

“Will that be all, master?”

The coldness in your expression made him sigh, “Y/N–”

“I shall retire, then.” You turned to leave but were made to stop in your tracks.

“It’s an advantageous proposal for you,” he lectured to whom he must believe an idiot. “Jimin works for me, he’s wealthy. A better match than you could ever aspire to. And he asks for no dowry because he doesn’t want money, he wants you…” His words were tainted with resentment. “He’ll take good care of you.”

Skirt of your dress swirling along, you faked a smile. “If you think so, master, then it must be so.”

He shook his head as he leaned back in defeat. “Suit yourself, but I won’t be the one to reject Jimin. You crush his heart.”

A laugh escaped you. “If you genuinely cared about him, you wouldn’t let him marry a woman in love with–” Oh no. It only hit you as you were saying it.

Jungkook had appeared annoyed, but now he was mad. “Who?” He stood up abruptly—chair’s feet scratching against the floor making you wince—and walked so close you were backed against the wall, face forced to turn to a side. In a low, deep voice, he repeated, less as a question and more as an order this time, “Who.”

There was no way in the nine circles of Hell you’d say it, when you didn’t want to believe it in the first place. For fuck’s sake, why? Jungkook only ever made you want to get away from him. That was the case right now, but then… why were your feet frozen?

Some unreasonable part of you seemed to have prevailed upon the others, casting away all resistance from your body and allowing yourself to indulge in Jungkook’s proximity. You met his eyes without fear, held his dark gaze. It didn’t take him long to work it out, yet he kept close, so close your unsteady breaths mingled, the effect akin to intoxication. He was visibly trying to hold back, telling himself it’d be a bad idea, but you prayed he wouldn’t care.

By God or the Devil, your prayers were heard.

Jungkook finally smashed his lips into yours, devouring them with a hunger you shared and felt growing as he gripped your waist to press you against him. A minute ago, you wouldn’t have imagined his tongue belonged inside your mouth, swirling around your own, and now you wanted it all over your body. As if reading your mind, Jungkook broke the ardent kiss to move down to your neck, which he licked painfully slowly before sucking hard, making you hiss with pleasure. He knew that would leave a mark, the bastard. You wondered if it was meant for Jimin, so he’d see you were Jungkook’s, and in such case you didn’t mind, let your eyelids close to enjoy it.

Steered by the lust possessing you, one hand grabbed his soft hair in a fistful, keeping his head in place where he was sweetly abusing your neck, while the other travelled southwards until it reached his crotch and held it over the trousers, feeling his cock stiffen. Jungkook groaned—a vibration to your skin—in retaliation lifting your skirt. You’d thought he'd take his time, tease you, but after ensuring you were wet enough by gliding his middle finger along your core, he slid it inside and began making beckoning motions.

“Master…” you moaned, legs shaking. Jungkook forsook your neck to pull back, watch how you struggled to keep it together as he added another finger, curling and uncurling them both, hitting all the right places, and unwilling to give him that satisfaction without consequences you groped his erection with the same vigour. Although he was in good control of his expression, his breath quivered against your lips, so he kissed them again, biting hard into your lower one.

He exhaled, “You’re driving me to sin…”

Indeed, the same fingers that held the brushes when he painted religious artwork were buried deep inside your cunt, bringing you the most sinful ecstasy. It made you chuckle. Jungkook took that as the mockery it was and, crossed, pulled his fingers out of you to drag you by the arm to the edge of the table, where he had you sit. Without delay he lifted your skirt again, only this time he also pulled down his trousers to reveal his cock, thick and throbbing, which he pumped as he watched you spread your legs eagerly, ready to take all of him.

With his free hand Jungkook cupped your cheek, thumb caressing your lower lip, coated with saliva and reddened still from when he’d bit it. He could sense your desire, that you craved him inside, had for a while. Desperately. And however much tempted he was to make you beg for it, his own arousal led his cock to your entrance and eased it inside already, another groan hitting the back of his bared teeth. You didn’t have time to gasp, his thrusts so quick they earned only moans, so wonderful did it feel.

Jungkook’s hand on your cheek then wrapped around your neck. “Do you know how often I’ve fantasised strangling you?”

You chuckled again as you slapped him across the face. Jungkook halted his movements in shock, glared at you. “And I slapping you?”

It took him a moment, but he scoffed and pushed you back so that you were lying down, climbing next atop you, confident that the wooden table was sturdy enough to hold both. So legs hooked around his torso and arms around his neck, you welcomed his thrusts, rough enough to make your eyes water. But it felt heavenly, how he ravished you... The mutual irritation and tension building up for over half a year translated into indescribable pleasure.

He kissed you again, flicking his tongue against yours as he pounded into you without mercy. Overwhelmed by the sensation, all you could do to express you were nearing your limit was sink your nails into Jungkook’s biceps at each side of you, moan inside his mouth. He took the hint and fucked you as fast as his body would allow, within mere seconds your walls clenching tight around him. The sight of you collapsing under him, overcome with bliss, made him reach his own highest shortly, spurting his warm seed inside you.

As his movements gradually ceased, so did your panting. Before a complete silence fell, you asked, “Am I still to marry Jimin?”

Jungkook grabbed your face and growled against your pouted lips, “You’re not going anywhere.”

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