Hiraeth (M)

Lines of fate: 01 | jjk

➵ pairing: tattooist!jungkook x f. reader

➵ genre: apocalypse au, exes to lovers (?) dad!jungkook, survival, angst, smut

➵ summary: the last thing Jungkook ever imagined was an outbreak that turned the dead into the living. But even more unexpected is seeing you—an ex he’s known nothing about in the past four years—with a small child who bears a striking resemblance to himself. As Jungkook grapples with the shock and the city spirals into chaos, the two of you are thrust back together, forced to confront unresolved feelings, long-buried truths, and the horrors of the deadly virus taking over.

➵ word count: 10.8k

➵ warnings: swearing (jk says fuck way too much), graphic depictions of violence and death, blood and gore, seizures, virus and zombies ofc, brief mentions of alcohol consumption.

➵ series masterlist

➵ a/n: it’s finally here!! <3 sorry this was postponed way longer than expected, all I can say is: life :,) anyway!! posting my writing again after years on hiatus definitely feels nerve wracking lol. this idea has been in my wips for literally years so I’m so excited to finally be sharing it with you all!! I would greatly appreciate your feedback and thoughts as it is something quite different from anything I usually write (it’s definitely been a kick in the ass to write) it’ll also really help me stay motivated to continue writing it. thank you for all the hype and excitement you showed for this fic before it was even released cause like hello?? that’s crazy to me😭 thanks for always showing my stories love and support🫶🏻 I’ve taken inspiration from all the zombie movies and videogames I’ve ever seen and played over the years (thanks dad). I should also mention, I had a very thorough plot for this planned out and it kinda went to shit in the process of writing so we’re kind of going off vibes only and 20% of the plot I had originally planned so yeah, bare with me🤪 I also want to say, updates on this will most likely be slow, but I will try my best to get them out as fast I can for you🙏 now that that’s over, I hope you enjoy this series as much as I am enjoying writing it!! this chapter is just the very beginning <33

The autumn sun filters through the large window with an amber glow as you take a slow sip of your coffee, the warm bitterness spreading in your chest as you attempt to chase some kind of comfort. But the loud hum of the city just outside and the muffled chatter of the bustling cafe are very much a grounding reminder of where you are — and where you really wish you weren't.

Your gaze travels down to your daughter sitting on the booth beside you, her little legs swinging off the seat contentedly as she picks away at her blueberry muffin. Completely oblivious to your ongoing little inner torment. Her big eyes flicker up to meet yours, brimming with glee. Brushing a crumb off her cheek, you force a little smile for her. 

Like a dull sting under your skin, you feel how little teeth of guilt gnaw away at you, not only because it’s been almost impossible to offer her a genuine smile in the past two days since you stepped foot in this dammed place, but because you simply wish you could share the same excitement as she does, and perhaps…feel more positive about this whole situation. For her.

But all you’ve been able to feel is guilt.

An incessant amount of it. Guilt and fear. Slowly brewing up inside you like some sort of poison that has had you feeling a little sick to your stomach.

”You’re spiraling again.” Hoseok pulls you out of your absentminded state, studying you over the rim of his half finished iced americano.

You blink. You often tend to forget how well he’s capable of reading you. Though you suppose that’s a skill acquired with nearly twenty years of friendship, an unavoidable consequence of growing up constantly together, practically like siblings. 

Hoseok has been the only constant in your life for as long as you can remember, like a brother to you — conjoined at the hip as his mother always used to joke. It all began when you moved next door. With your parents always working late and often times far away from home, Hoseok's home slowly became your second one — the place you spent most of your childhood and adolescence and formed some of your fondest memories. A place where you were never alone.

You do suppose it’s no surprise the years and the unbreakable bond you’ve formed have given you exceptional abilities to know when something is off with just a simple glance. But it's never less surprising.

The corners of your mouth tug upwards into a tiny smile at his words, brows pinched in a pathetic attempt to hide your truth. “I am not.”

“You are. You’re thinking too much,” he stirs the ice in his drink with the straw, eyes flicking up to meet yours again. “Which if I may remind you, is one of your fatal flaws.”

You scoff, only slightly offended as you watch him take a slow sip. Pushing your sunglasses further up your head as you lean back. “Thinking too much is not my fatal flaw.” 

He’s may very likely be right about that, but of course, you’d never actually admit it.

Hoseok snorts, clearly unconvinced. His voice just above a whisper when he murmurs, “Right. Sorry. It’s definitely lying.”

Before you can argue, he leans forward to accept some crumbs of muffin Jieun is so eagerly offering him. The sight tugs at something deep in your chest, watching his expression soften to mush as he thanks her with that brightest, tender smile he only ever uses for her before he brings his attention back to you. 

“If it weren’t your fatal flaw, you’d actually be enjoying that overpriced coffee and oh-, maybe being reunited with your best friend again. I haven’t even seen you in like three months.” He shakes his head in utter disappointment, sitting back with a dramatic sigh.

“Hobi, I am so thrilled to be reunited with you, truly.” You roll your eyes ever so slightly and place a hand on your heart rather sarcastically as you say it, but deep down you hope he knows you’re only half joking. No one has done for you more than what hoseok has in the time you’ve known him.

You suppose all the change has got you in a rather sentimental state. But you bury it away. Hoseok deserves a nice time out with a friend for once too. He’s seen enough of your tears.

“Yeah?” he leans in, studying you with mock concern. Though not falling for it even a bit. "That's your thrilled face? You sure about that?” And you almost laugh, but then, he shifts, looking more serious. “You know,” he pauses, crossing his arms over his chest. “For someone who finally landed a nice new job and has everything working out, you don’t look all that thrilled to me, actually. That’s all.”

You press your lips together and glance down at your coffee, suddenly the truth a little too hard to face. You should be happy. He’s right. Because things are really starting to look up for you again, everything you’ve spent the last few months wishing for has finally become a reality. And yet, you can’t shake the fact that there’s a deep buried sense of dread that seems to be getting in the way of that, a familiar fear that's been present for years, but only intensified since you stepped foot in Seoul again. 

Hoseok follows your gaze, watching you carefully, then nudges your foot under the table gently. “Come on.” He murmurs softly, eyebrows raised gently. “What is it?”

You suppose your real fatal flaw is your emotions showing up as flashy neon subtitles over your head apparently, or the fact you are simply terrible at hiding them, because Hoseok doesn't budge. He sees right through your little facade — always has. And as much as you know he is a great listener and that he genuinely cares to hear it all, always ready to give you a helping hand in any way he possibly can, you just don’t want to sound ungrateful. Not when anyone else in your situation would be feeling over the moon right now.

Besides, you’ve never liked burdening him, or anyone for that matter. Never wanted to add more weight to the heavy things he already carries himself. He deals with so much of that at work already. So many problems significantly worse than your own worries. So you simply shake your head, putting on a small smile once again in hopes to appease him.

“I’m alright, Hobi. It's just…strange. Being back here. Overwhelming, I guess,” you admit, though only to half of the truth. “It’s so calm on the island. I suppose I got used to it. Everything here is just so intense. But that's all.” You cross your arms on the table as you gaze out at the busy streets. Hoping you don't sound as pathetic as you feel. Though in truth, this whole things isn't just strange. It’s all actually fucking terrifying.

In many ways it seemed like nothing here had changed since the day you left four years ago. The cityscape is as bustling as you remember – a stark contrast to the quietude and stillness of Jeju, where you had been building your new life up until now. People in suits rush back and forth and push into each other with no care, everything is always shadowed by a maze of buildings that don't seem to have an end. Cars weave through traffic like they want to crash into each other, and neon signs and billboards still flicker blindingly even in the daytime. 

The fact that everything remains the same, terrifies you. The rush, the stress, the chaos. That constant hustle and bustle that seems suffocating. It wasn't the reason why you left. but it was certainly a factor that made your life here something you wanted to escape from. It feels like stepping back into the life you thought you’d left behind for good. Like stepping onto a moving treadmill, when you no longer know how to run. Not sure if you’ll ever find your place here again.

Hobi hums in understanding, and the warmth in the familiarity of his smile helps lessen the knot that's been forming in your stomach all morning. And though you've only let out a tiny portion of what's on your mind, you already feel like you can breathe with more ease.

Sometimes, it’s not so bad that he can see right through you. Because you also tend to forget he’s the only one that truly gets you, understands you when even you struggle to understand yourself, and has never once been one to judge you, no matter how small or ridiculous it may be.

“Yeah, I get it. It can be overwhelming.” He nods slowly, letting the words settle. “But if I were you, I’d be damn proud of myself.” His expression is calm and his words full of sincerity as he speaks. “You did what you had to do, and now you’re doing it again. Making more big changes. Really tough decisions, and I know that’s not easy.” He pauses. “But you've always made it after all. This time won't be different. Besides, think about this, we’re close to each other now. I’ll be here for anything you guys need, you know that.”

Your heart softens at his comforting words, and the reassurance feels like it melts some of the tension off your shoulders. And for just a split second you feel that roar of confidence, thinking about everything you've accomplished, but it's not lasting, and deflates with the weight of your heavier thoughts.

You want to believe what he says — you really do. For your daughter's sake. Because this is finally your chance to start over and build something better. To give Jieun the life she deserves, something stable, a chance to thrive in a place full of new opportunities. 

A fresh start. 

After all, isn't that all you've ever been chasing?

You don’t want to allow your fears and the past to come in the way of that. But it's never so simple. At least, definitely not here — definitely not for you.

Because the truth is, being in Seoul again feels like roaming a haunted city. Tainted and plagued by shadows from the past, by who you used to be, and everything and everyone you left behind all those years ago when you ran and didn’t dare to look back. Being here now, you can’t shake the feeling — the apprehension and fear that everything you once left behind is lurking around the corner, ready to jump out and haunt you, making everything you've finally built up crumble to pieces once again. This place just gives you an indescribable feeling of…dread. Eeriness even. Enough for it to linger gut deep with a painful sense of discomfort that hasn’t eased since the day you arrived. As if you can never truly let your guard down.

But after all, it was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up, even if it meant returning to the city you swore you’d never step foot in again. The offer came at just the right moment, a lifeline after months of uncertainty and dead-ends. After losing your job, and endless nights crying yourself to sleep with the heavy burden of becoming a failure of a mother and not knowing how to make ends meet. You practically cried with joy the morning you finally got the call, and ignored the pit that formed in your stomach when you heard where it required you to move to. It had felt like you were about to reach the peak of a mountain, only to drop all the way back down to the bottom. But it was a steady paycheck, and a chance to finally give Jieun some stability. It wasn’t glamorous or grand — a position in a small marketing firm. But it was enough to rebuild. The breakthrough you so badly needed to start over and secure a future for your little girl. 

How could you possibly turn it down?

That was your biggest and only goal in life.

There was nothing you wouldn’t do for her. So you knew in that very instant you had to take it. Even if it meant returning to the place that broke you beyond repair. So you packed up your life and now, here you are. Back where you never thought you’d be. So far from the tranquility of the home you had made for yourself in a secluded tiny seaside town four years ago. Where you were happy. Where you didn't live in constant fear.

“I know this is what I need right now,” you speak softly, more to yourself than anything. You reach out, gently brushing your fingers through Jieun's baby soft hair, watching as she focuses intently on her muffin, completely unaware of the heaviness of the conversation. “I just don’t want to mess anything up…the job, you know, our new life here. I want to get this right. I don’t want anything, getting in the way of that.” You swallow thickly, fingers tightening around the mug of coffee in front of you, and Hoseok knows exactly what you mean by that. You hesitate, letting out a quiet breath before speaking again. “I know there's so many opportunities for us here but…I was happy in Jeju. Jieun was happy.”

Hoseok nods, slow and understanding. “I know you were. A city like this takes some adapting to, you know that.” He reaches out and gives your arm a gentle squeeze, “but give it time. You’ll settle right back in.” He says warmly, reassuring. You return a tiny smile, more genuine this time.

“Seriously though. Change is good. New home, new job, meeting new people…maybe even someone special…” he adds.

You scoff, eyes widening, only half incredulous at how fast he swerved the topic there. So typical of him. 

“Yeah no, thanks. You can stop it right there.” You shake your head.

“What?” Hobi leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he waggles his eyebrows, a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, completely unbothered despite your clear opposition. “I'm just saying,” he adds in, raising his hands in mock innocence, though he feels like your glare could actually kill him. “You’re young. You’re no longer in that tiny ass town full of old drunk married cheating men. Everyone deserves a little fun. It wouldn't kill you to-”

“Hobi,” you sigh, cringing internally at the memories of disastrous dates you told him all about over the phone. You throw a pointed look in his direction, but Hoseok just chuckles. “I’m done with all that. Seriously.”

“Come on,” he presses.

“No. No way. I told you.” You interject, tone firm, not even allowing space for the idea. “I’m a single mother, Hobi. That’s been off the cards for years. I have different priorities now.” You straighten in your seat, making a point to scoop Jieun's hair back and out of her drink. These are your priorities now.

Hoseok raises a brow, watching you carefully, but there's no judgment in his expression now — just silent understanding. He leans back in his chair again, smile dying down, tapping his fingers absently against his iced americano before his gaze drifts over to your little girl. His expression softens, fondness flowing in his eyes.

“I know,” he says after a moment, his tone a tad more gentle. “But I’m just saying…you’re allowed to let yourself be happy again, you know. You deserve that.”

Something uncomfortable twists in your insides. Happy. What a simple word, but what a complex thing. 

You lift your eyes to meet his, the sincerity in his gaze cutting right through. You could argue, explain that you don't agree, that romance is a door locked for good. Not only out of fear, but out of necessity. It’s no longer just about you. You don’t have the luxury of reckless choices or fleeting little flings like you did before.

There's simply to much buried history to let anyone new into your life.

And deep down, you don't believe you deserve it. But you don’t voice any of that. There's no need to explain. Hoseok knows your history better than anyone, the pain etched deep into you, the one you carry like a scar beneath your skin. He knows Jieun's father plays a big role in that, even though you don’t dare to mention him and haven’t in years. He knows his existence and every memory he’s involved in is something you merely refuse to acknowledge. And though Hoseok wants nothing more than for you to thrive, he knows better than to press on the matter. 

Still, he hesitates before speaking quietly. “I’ve been here four years, and I’ve never seen him again.”

He says it gently, in hopes the information is comforting to you, to maybe put you at ease, but instead it feels like a small jab between your ribs. You stiffen, for just a second. You feel your heart begin to race a tiny bit faster. And you wonder when the mention of him will stop having this goddamn effect on you.

Hoseok notices, and regret quickly flickers across his face. He realizes he might have overstepped, treading on thin ice that he fears may slowly be cracking beneath him.

But it doesn't. You take a deep breath, and you simply nod. It’s okay. You know you can’t avoid it forever. Besides, who’s to say he even still lives here? The thought should be reassuring, bring you some sort of peace, be relieving. But it isn’t. Because the thought of ever seeing him again makes your palms sweat, and your chest a little tight.

“Yeah.” You say quietly. “You’re right. Who knows.”

You don't mention how many late nights you've stayed up, haunted with thoughts like if ever did make it out of here. If he ever made to the states and accomplished all those things he wanted. If he's perhaps settled down and started a family or if he's stuck right where he used to be, how he used to be. You don't mention how sometimes, you mind even attacks you with the thought of if he’s even still alive.

You don't dare mention any of it.

Hoseok exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I just-” He pauses, voice lowering as he checks Jieun to make sure she's not listening, not that she would know or understand, but you appreciate that he does. “I know we’re not meant to talk about him–“

You push past it, giving a small dismissive shake of the head. Instead, you plaster on a small practiced smile, turning to glance down at the little girl beside you as well. It isn't something easy to avoid. But for the past four years, somehow, you’ve managed it. 

“Anyway. I am happy,” you say, voice softer now, steering the conversation elsewhere. “I get all the love I need from my little lovebug right here, don’t I?”

The little lovebug in question remains completely unaware of the heaviness of the conversation. Instead, her wide eyes are fixated on something outside, her eyes big and small fingers suddenly clutching your sleeve.

“Mommy, look!” She gasps, tugging desperately for your attention, she calls you again, tearing you away from your conversation. “The birdy!”

You follow her gaze, a small black bird just on the other side of the glass, and the simplicity of her joy softens you, eases the heaviness for a second. It really doesn't take much to amuse a child, and you’re glad to see at least someone enjoying her time here so far. “I see, baby.”

You smile with her, that is until, just a moment later, you notice… the small bird is no longer pecking at crumbs on the pavement. It’s… acting rather strangely. Its head twitches sharply to the side, body jerking with twitchy erratic movements as it flaps it’s wings like crazy, then suddenly, it freezes, before twitchting again.

Your brows furrow, unable to take your eyes off it. What the hell? Something about it sends a strange chill through you, suddenly understanding what had Jieun so surprised.

“Oh, I think that poor bird might have gone a little coo coo.” Hoseok turns his head to take a look himself, and you both exchange a puzzled glance, to which Hobi just shrugs with a mildly disgusted expression.

“What, you know I hate birds.” he whispers, shrugging like someone just walked over his grave, and you swat his arm and shush him, suppressing a laugh. You wouldn't want your sweet animal loving daughter hearing that. 

“Isn't that so weird. I’ve never seen one do that before.” You say, and hoseok tilts his head, staring at it with a mildly grossed out frown. “Probably has some kind of parasite or something. Not sure.”

“It’s gonna die?” she looks up at hobi, her little face full of worry. You wrap your arms around her, pulling her in closer.

“Not necessarily, bub. I’m sure it’ll be okay,” Hobi answers, trying to be tactful, however, Jieun doesn’t look convinced, but she nods sadly and resumes eating spoonfuls of her hot chocolate that's long gone cold. 

“Yeah, it’ll be fine baby.” You kiss the top of her head, as you glance out the window once again, only to see it’s no longer there. 

“So odd.” You shake your head, taking another sip of your coffee, and Hoseok nods and lets out a low hum, taking another sip himself.

“So, what’s the plan for the rest of the day? Are you actually gonna start unpacking, or are you going to let those suitcases rot in your living room for another week?” He taunts.

You chuckle. “I’ll unpack eventually. This little girl and I have a long list of errands left today.”

“Uh-huh.” He gives you an unconvinced look, the looks at Jieun with a dramatic pout, cooing. “My poor little monkey. Prisoner to moms to do list. I remember that feeling.”

She giggles, and you speak up. “Shhh, she loves errands with mommy, don't you-”

Suddenly, a loud crash sound from the back of the café, startling you all.

The sharp clatter of metal rings out and you hear a young worker gasp, emerging hastily from behind the counter as the previous muffle of conversation begins to die down. Heads immediately start turning towards the scene unfolding before them. 

“What the hell?” you murmur as you hastily turn around yourself, pulse spiked from the jump.

Near the back of the cafe, a chair is knocked to the ground, a mans body hunched over on the floor, shaking and convulsing with an unnatural force that seems to take over him completely. The man sitting beside him instantly scrambles to the floor next to him, shaking his shoulders in a failed attempt to break him out of whatever is happening as he calls out for help in a trembling voice, panicked.

“Oh my god, Hobi-” You gasp and your stomach twists as you take in what is occurring, grip instinctively tightening around your daughter's hand, turning her away from the scene. One of the members of staff pulls out her phone, announcing that she will call an ambulance right away, the man on the floor now surrounded by two other workers that instantly made their way over to him.

Hoseok takes just a few seconds to register what’s going on. “Shit.” He mutters, “A seizure.”

Instantly, he’s up on his feet, leaving you and Jieun behind and rushes over to help, but before he can reach the man on the floor, a young worker steps in front of him, his hands raised. 

“An ambulance is on the way!” he blurts out, eyes darting between the unconscious man and the crowd gathering around him, Hoseok noticing his eyes full of panic. “Please, just give him space.”

“It's alright. I’m a nurse,” Hoseok urges, trying to step around him. “Please, let me-”

This time, there’s no resistance — only relief in the young man's panicked eyes as he steps aside, allowing Hoseok through to where the man is convulsing on the floor.

Jesus christ. On his one day off. He thinks internally.

Without hesitation, Hoseok drops to one knee. “Don’t hold him down,” he instructs the mans friend beside him as he proceeds to unbutton the first few buttons of the man's shirt to facilitate his breathing. He presses his fingers to his wrist as best as he can, taking a pulse. He attempts to roll him on his side, but he seizes with too much force, limbs jerking far too erratically for him to do so. 

“Has he ever had seizures before? Is he epileptic?” Hoseok asks without tearing his eyes away from the man.

The man's friend just shakes his head. “No…no- he was fine right before.”

“Ambulance is just two minutes away,” the barista yells, phone still pressed to her ear. Hoseok nods but keeps his focus on the young man. Face contorted in concertation as he's checking his pulse once again before tilting his head to ensure he’s breathing properly.

You sit speechless few tables away, watching the scene unfold, your heart erratic in your chest. But feeling so much relief Hoseok was here. Jieun's small hand holds yours tightly, grip strong. She shifts in her seat, trying to peek over the booth to the commotion, but you gently pull her in beside you. Pulling her close, you brush a soothing hand over her hair.

“It’s okay, baby,” your whisper. “That man wasn’t feeling very well. But uncle hobi is helping him. Isn’t that so good? He’s really good at helping people remember. It's okay.”

Jien nods slowly, though her brows are still drawn together in concern. She doesn’t fully understand, but she doesn’t doubt your word, or her uncle's abilities.

Across the large space, Hoseok presses his lips into a thin line, his eyes watching carefully as the man's convulsions finally begin to slow, the violent jerking finally seeming to ease up. But just as the worst seems to have passed…Hoseok stiffens. 

There’s a concerning, deep purplish hue creeping up the man’s neckline, peeking through the gap of his unbuttoned white shirt. Dark veins snaking against his pale skin, spreading like ink through thin cracks. Hoseok swallows hard, alarm bells ringing at the back of his mind. 

That…that doesn’t look right. His medical knowledge kicks in, a thousand possibilities racing through his mind, digging for the most fitting answer. Is it cyanosis? an undiagnosed vascular disease? Possibly an infected wound? blunt trauma?

His mind dashing for answers in an instant, but before he can take a better look and unbutton his shirt completely, after what feels like a lifetime, the piercing wail of sirens cuts right through his thoughts, and just moments after, paramedics burst into the café, pushing past the gathered crowd near the Hoseok and the patient on the floor. Hoseok quickly regains focus, stepping back to allow them to take over. 

“He had a seizure. Approximately a minute long. His breathing is stable but—“ He hesitates for a second, then presses on, giving them a brief diagnosis and rundown. “I think he may have another underlying condition. Possible hypoxia.”

The paramedic beside him nods, wasting no time as they swiftly load him onto a stretcher. He stands back, his jaw tight, fingertips tingling with the urge to do more, watching as they wheel him out through the entrance. The murmurs of the coffee shop begin to start up again, confused and concerned looks turning left and right, but Hoseok can’t shake all the questions in his mind. 

He just hopes the guy turns out to be okay. The same way it goes with every patient he sees. You have to do your part and let go. That's how it works. but this time, he's left with a weird feeling bubbling inside.

After a few minutes, Hoseok turns back to your table. The moment his eyes meet yours, you’re already standing and asking, “God, is everything okay? He’s okay, right?”

“It’s alright,” Hoseok reassures you, though his tone is softer than usual. “They've got it under control.”

His gaze flickers toward Jieun, who’s still clinging to you, her small face twisted in worry as she glances between the two of you. She tugs your sleeve, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mommy…what happened to the man?”

“The ambulance people will take care of him and take him to the hospital so they can help him.” You say gently. She blinks up at you, then glances toward Hoseok, as if waiting for confirmation.

Hoseok lips form a small smile, crouching slightly to be at her eye level. “Your mom is right,” he says carefully, patting her head. “Sometimes when people don’t feel well they need a little help. That’s what doctors and nurses are for Jieun. It’s okay.”

Jieun watches him for a moment, and gives him a slow understanding nod. He then straightens and exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s get out of here,” he murmurs, his gaze flicking back toward the road in front of the entrance where the ambulance is now setting off.

You nod, now feeling a weight of unease in the crowded space. It would probably be best to give them space to handle the situation, and to get some fresh air after that. So you retrieve Jieun's little pink puffer vest from off hobis chair and gently help her arms into, zipping it up snuggly to keep her warm from the afternoon chill, before taking her hand in yours.

As the three of you finally step outside, you're grateful for the crisp autumn air that lifts some of the heaviness off you. God, that was stressful. The distant sounds of the city hum around you, and life moves as if nothing happened.

“God, I hope that guy is okay.” You say quietly only for Hoseok to hear, taking your daughter's hand as you let out a slow breath. “First that weird bird and then that poor guy.”

Hoseok hums in agreement and gives a small reassuring nod, pushing his concerns aside. But you know how hard it is for him to switch off. How even when the emergency is over, his mind replays it again and again, analysing— wondering if he could have done more, if he could’ve done better. Even when he deals with stuff like this everyday, it’s never been easy.

“Jesus Christ. What's that saying, bad things always come in two’s? Three’s? ” He chuckles, letting out a huff. “I told you, there’s never an uneventful day out here.” Hobi shakes his head, forcing a smile to lift the mood. But his body still buzzes with tension. Then, in one swift movement, he scoops Jieun up, swinging her into his arms. “Now, time for ice cream?”

Jieun giggles loudly, kicking her feet excitedly at his words, all her earlier worries forgotten. “Yes!”

“Hobi, she just had a hot chocolate. Do you even have space for ice cream, Jieun?” You say, trying to sound stern, but the sight of them giggling together pulls a real smile out of you. And something inside already tells you you’re going to give in.

“She’s with uncle hobi now, there’s no rules.” He sing songs, walking ahead of you with your daughter in arms, all smiles as she squeals at his gentle tickling. The spitting image of joy if you ever saw it.

And for just a moment, you try to push away the nagging feeling that’s been pressing at the back of your mind. 

Because maybe, just maybe, this time, everything will be just fine after all.

Jungkook steadies his hand, a quiet hiss of pain getting lost in the low thrumming of the tattoo gun that fills the quiet studio, lulling him into that comforting sense of calm he knows so well. It’s a fairly big piece, he’s been here hunched over for hours now, that familiar dull ache creeping up his back, but he barely registers it. Because all that matters is the art taking form beneath his touch. 

Here, in these moments, it's when the feels most himself. Distracted, at peace, In control. Something he’s never found that easy outside of these four walls.

Every stroke, every line falls exactly where he intends it to. In a way, the rest of the world seems to fade away — no worries, just ink and skin, art coming to life. And it grants him a satisfaction nothing else can quite offer. And if there’s one thing Jungkook prides himself on, it’s his work and dedication. He built this place with steady hands and relentless effort, and he knows damn well he’s good at what he does. Confidence hasn't always been second nature to him, but time and experience have definitely sharpened him.

He leans back slightly to take in the work before him, his disheveled strands of dark hair falling over his eyes as he uses a paper towel to wipe up some excess ink from the client's forearm before glancing up. “How are we holding up?”

The young guy shifts in the chair, letting out a breathy chuckle. “Let’s just say I felt that last bit there.”

Jungkook nods, noting the slight sheen of sweat on the guy's forehead. He’s just glad he’s not a squirmer. That shit makes his job so much harder than it needs to be. 

His own body is the canvas of plenty tattoos. All colours, shapes and sizes. He's more than numb to the pain now. But he gets it.

“You’re doing really well. I won’t torture you much longer. We’re almost done with the worst part.” Pressing the pedal again, he feels the familiar vibration travel up his arm, he tongues with his lip piercing, a habit that signals his concentration. His hair is dusting over his eyes as he continues with the last bits of shading and does the final touch ups of all the smaller details. Another forty five minutes pass, broken by lighthearted conversation here and there. Though Jungkook never used to be one for making conversation before, he has long mastered the art of letting his mouth wander while his hands and precision remain steady and focused.

“Alright, and we’re done,” he wipes down the fresh ink one last time before setting the tattoo gun aside, letting out a silent exhale as he wheels back, peeling off his black gloves to grab the aftercare instruction sheet, ready to spew his usual little lecture he knows most people don’t even pay much attention to.

“Sit up slowly.” Jungkook instructs.

When the guy finally stands, he marvels at his tattoo in the mirror. Jungkook feels a flicker of pride swell in his chest. No matter how many times he does this, seeing the completed, polished work and his client's expressions of amazement never gets old. “Looks sick man. Better than I imagined.” He beams, twisting his arm under the light, his smile spreading all across his face.

“Good choice with the design.” Jungkook replies with a faint smile tugging at his lips. He then places the protective film, gives him a quick rundown of the aftercare and hands him the sheet. “Take care of it. Follow the aftercare instructions and it’ll heal nicely. And you know, any issues just come by or give me a call and I’ll check it out.”

“Will do. Thanks man, it’s perfect.”

As the last client of the day slips out with a final wave and he hears the bell over at the entrance ding, Jungkook finally feels the exhaustion set in — the kind that only comes after hours of steady concentrated work. Fuck, he really does need to work on his posture. He stretches his back, then cracks his knuckles, stretching his toned, inked arms over his head. But despite the tiredness, he feels no rush no rush to get back to his empty apartment.

He never does.

Instead, he takes his time wiping down his station, tidying all his clutter and ink in the methodical and organized way only he understands — something Yoongi always grumbles about when borrowing his space. But this is his sanctuary. He makes the rules. And yoongi may complain, but he accepts it.

When he's done cleaning up, Jungkook emerges into the entrance area of the studio, rubbing the back of his neck and ruffling his hair at the nape.

Yoongi stretches in his chair behind the front counter, arms lifting above his head as he lets out as wide yawn, smacking his lips as his eyes land on the younger. “Christ, I thought you were dead in there,” he says deadpan, watching as Jungkook attempts to roll out the tension coiled in his shoulders, stifling a yawn himself. “Or are you? I genuinely can't tell.”

“Very funny.” Jungkook mutters, slumping onto the leather couch with an over dramatic sigh, throwing the back of his arm over his eyes as he lets his body sink into the plush cushion. It’s moments like this he’s really fucking glad they invested in a good sofa. He wants it to swallow him.

“Sure you can survive the schedule tomorrow? We’re fucking packed.” He says.

Jungkook’s brows knit together as his eyes dart over to Yoongi, eyeing the printed schedule in front of him as he rubs his jaw. “What? You think I can't handle it?”

Yoongi shakes his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He coughs into his fist, a rough dry sound that echoes through the quietness of the now empty studio. “I know you think you’re some kind of machine,” he gives the younger a pointed look, “but let me just remind you that you are, in fact, very much not.”

Jungkook's lips quirk. “Woah, woah. I’ll be fine. Unlike someone who sounds like they've caught the plague.” Lifting his arms from his eyes just enough to peer at Yoongi, he swings his arm as if to push him away. “Stay away from me with that. I can’t afford a day off anytime soon.”

Yoongi scoffs, waving a dismissive hand as he coughs into his fist again. “Relax, it's just the dust. Or if you’re lucky enough I've caught that shit going around. Won't be on your case anymore for at least two weeks. That's if I survive.”

The sound is muffled by his arm as Jungkook lets out a tired chuckle, but his eyes remain closed. “Now you’re just trying to get out of work tomorrow, hyung. I know your little tricks.”

“If anyone should be trying to get our work, it should be you. Admit your running on fumes.” Yoongi drops the piece of paper to the desk and crosses his arms, looking right across to Jungkook, his eyes squinting lightly.

Jungkook feels his heavy gaze, but he's not in the mood to face one of Yoongis lectures right now. He can’t exactly argue that. Because he knows Yoongi is not entirely wrong. 

He's working six days a week, morning till night, barely stopping to take a breath. Hell, it would've been the entire seven days of the week if Yoongi hadn’t raised hell the day he suggested it. Jungkook had tried to reason with him, insisting that Yoongi would still get his days off as usual, that he’d open up the studio alone on weekends and get everything sorted for the week ahead. But it was never about that, and he knew it.

Jungkook has always had a knack for picking up self-destructive tendencies. A slow brewing kind of self destruction, pushing himself way past his limits, working himself down to the bone until he can barely function. And Yoongi simply wasn't going to stand back and watch it happen all over again right in front of his eyes.

Most days, he only eats because it’s Yoongi who shoves food his way, whether he wants it or not.  Prepping meals and stashing them away in their mini fridge in the back room where Jungkook can find them, labeled with a little note in his unmistakable messy handwriting that reads “eat.”

Because behind his serious facade, Yoongi had always tried his best to care for him. 

From countless nights of dragging his black out drunk body home back in college, and many times after college as well. To picking him up from the streets at 4 am after he got into a nasty fight, bruised and bleeding and sobbing his heart out alone on an empty sidewalk. Yoongi didn’t question it back then, didn't hesitate. He never does. He just helped quietly with no second thought, allowing him to sit with his silent sobs on the car ride home. He had always been there, offering him a home when he had nowhere else to go, offering everything he had if it helped Jungkook from drowning.

It was Yoongi that had seen the potential in him and had patiently guided him to finally see it for himself, helping him build this studio from nothing — helping him build every piece of furniture, putting up every shelf, painting every wall, making sure Jungkook finally had something to call his. 

And now, despite all the hardships, he’s come further than they both could have imagined.

Yet deep down, Yoongi knows no amount of help can stop Jungkook from being who he is, not when he has it so deeply rooted in himself to self sabotage in every way he possibly can. It's simply how he’s wired. Yoongi has long accepted that some things are simply beyond his reach, and that Jungkook won’t ever fully change. And he may never admit it out loud, but somewhere in his heart, as the eldest, he’s always felt an unspoken weight of responsibility for Jungkook. That's why he tries relentlessly to guide him towards better choices.

Even though Jungkook has matured and come a long way from his troubled past and the reckless kid he used to be, he’s far from eradicating his bad habits entirely. He knows he’s working himself down to the bone. He knows it's not healthy. Unrealistic for him to sustain in the long run. But he doesn’t like himself when he’s unoccupied. 

He doesn't like the quiet.

Because when there’s silence, there’s space for his mind to make noise.

So that’s what he does. He works, works until he can exhaust himself to the point of passing out, too drained to even feel. It means no thoughts can haunt him when his head hits the pillow. And he’s okay with that.

Besides, he loves his job. That's a fact. The only thing he’s passionate about. All he’s ever found himself to be good at. He doesn’t need anything or anyone else. 

Or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

“Fumes are still fuel,” Jungkook shoots back. He reaches behind his head to grab an old vintage manga off the small side table, flipping through the pages without really reading.

Yoongi studies him for a moment, his sharp gaze softening just a fraction. He shifts in his seat, resting his elbows on the counter, zeroing in on him as if he were ready to throw out a serious scolding, like he did back when he was a kid. But his next words are nothing but gentle. “You know, if you wanna keep up with that schedule, you’re gonna need sleep. I can close up if you wanna head out first.”

Jungkooks expression falters — just a flicker. But he covers it with an exaggerated groan. It does get on his nerves ever so slightly, just slightly. What is it with everyone always underestimating him? Treating him like he's not capable of making his own decisions. But his tongue toys with his lip ring as he continues flicking through the pages, feigning nonchalance. “I’m good. I wanna sketch out a few new designs first. Got some ideas ratting around.”

Yoongi squints at him, clearly unconvinced. “You do know that old couch isn't a substitute for a bed, right? and you could just…do that at home.”

Jungkook tosses the comic aside as he shrugs, already bored of the conversation, his inked fingers drumming relentlessly against the worn red leather. “I focus better here.” Is his simple answer, but before Yoongi can speak, a loud siren cuts through their conversation, blaring jarringly as it flashes by across the street. Almost instantly another follows, and then another.

Instinctively, both of their heads turn towards the window, though it only gives view to a small glimpse of the larger front street, most of their view blocked by the building across from them, all they can see is the bright lights flashing as they rush past.

“The hell’s that about,” Yoongi mutters, straightening in his chair.

Jungkook furrows his brows, pushing himself up on his elbows to get a better look outside. From what he can see, everything seems normal enough — cars passing by, people going about their night and a few students heading home. The studio is located on a fairly quiet side street, on the outskirts of the city, just a little further from the booming heart of Seoul. It’s never as busy or chaotic here, much quieter.

“Accident, maybe?” Jungkook guesses, a tired breath slipping past his lips. It’s still Seoul after all. When is it ever completely quiet? 

Yoongi hums in agreement, but as if on cue, another set of sirens blares through the streets, overlapping with others as the noise grows, this time it’s police cars too, wailing violently and urgently before fading into the distance as they speed away. Jungkook glances at Yoongi, who meets his gaze with an equally puzzled expression. ‘Must be pretty bad.’ Jungkook says. Yoongi pulls out his phone to check the time and sighs. “Well, whatever it is, I'm not sticking around to find out.” He pushes himself to his feet, patting his back pocket to pull out his pack of cigarettes before reaching for his jacket draped over the back of the chair.

A slight sense of uneasiness crawls up Jungkook's spine. That was about four ambulances and three police cars if not more. That’s…that's a lot. But he soon brushes it off. “I’ll check the news later.” Jungkook mumbles, letting his heavy body drop back against the cushion.

Yoongi tugs his jacket on, tossing him a small glance. “Well, if you’re gonna stay here, at least don’t fall asleep on that damn couch again. You drool, and it’s gross.”

Jungkook chuckles, though it's half hearted. “I won’t ruin your sacred couch, hyung. Don't you worry.”

“Good.” Yoongi deadpans, heading toward the door. He flips the neon sign to closed before turning back to Jungkook, his tired features softening just a touch. “Don't stay too late. Tomorrow is fucking packed and you’ll regret it when youre half dead in the morning. And don’t forget that girl you booked in at 9.”

The girl needed some touch ups to her tattoo but had a busy schedule and no time to visit any other day or at ay other time. So Jungkook did the favour, and offered to book her in before opening time. But fuck. He really does need to stop bending his schedule for people.

He knows he will regret it. Jungkook just waves a dismissive hand, already getting comfy on the couch. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll leave soon.”

Yoongi doesn't believe him, but he doesn't argue, just pulls out a cigarette from the pack and raises his hands in surrender and heads for the door. “Alright. See you tomorrow.”

Jungkook hums in acknowledgement. “Rest up, Hyung.”

The studio fades to dead silence once the door closes. Though sirens still echo faintly in the background.

Stretched out on the couch, Jungkook stares at the ceiling a little longer than necessary. His limbs feel heavy, exhaustion pressing down on him heavily. He wants to work on those sketches, he wants to push his limits a little further. But his body seems to know what's best for him. And within minutes, he’s passed out.

When Jungkook’s eyes crack open, it’s to the gentle sound of rain pattering against the windows. But it’s not rain the noise that woke him. Distant voices shout over one another, and the erratic wailing of car alarms and sirens blast in a near distance, sounding like he’s still stuck between consciousness and a dream. Jungkook blinks, then suddenly, screeching tires follow into a loud crash, something heavy and metal hitting the pavement. His heart spikes, and his body jerks up instantly before his mind can register what the hell is going on. The sudden movement makes him lightheaded, blinking as he tries to shake the disorientation fogging his mind.

Shit. How long had he been out?

He curses under his breath, his head throbbing. Did someone just fucking crash their car outside? In his dazed state his fingers fumble for his phone in the front pocket of his jeans. He squints, the bright screen glaring back at him painfully in the darkness of the studio.

11:48 PM.

The first thought that comes to mind is drunk people causing a ruckus. It certainly wouldn't be unusual for Friday night. But then… he stops to listen. Are they breaking in? then his mind steers more towards the possibility of some petty street fight, or some idiots causing trouble. It’s the only conclusion his sleepy can come to.

But then, he hears it. 

Raw, panicked, screams erupting from the streets outside. It sounds close. Really close.

What the fuck? 

Jungkook feels a sickening pit form in his stomach.

Because that's definitely not the drunken shouts of a fight, not the sound of some petty fight or a car accident. It’s the kind of scream that crawls under your skin. And Jungkook knows the sounds of panic when he hears it. He feels his heart beating in his chest now, fast and strong. Something isn’t right. Before his mind can think  further, he pushes off the couch and yanks his leather jacket from the armrest, pulling it on in a swift motion, feeling a little dizzy as the room slowly begins to spin from getting up so fast. 

Behind the front counter he crouches, reaching for his motorcycle helmet. But his grip isn't steady, his palms suddenly feel a bit sweaty. The air in the room slightly suffocating.

His mind scrambles as he finally strides for the door, all he knows something is telling him he needs to get out. He’s ready to leave and check on what's happening outside, but just as his fingers brush the cold metal door handle—

A loud bang crashes into the large front window of the studio.

The impact rattles the entire front window, the glass shuddering violently as something smacks right into it with bone crushing force, causing large cracks to expand from the center like a spiderweb, blooming outwards across the glass. The helmet drops to the ground with a loud thud and Jungkook stumbles back in the darknesses, almost crashing back into the front counter as his breath gets stuck in his throat.

Jungkook freezes. His entire body completely paralyzed as he watches a thick, dark gush of red begin to trail down the ruins of the window. His eyes slowly follow it upwards and then…then he sees it.

A face, wedged between the shards of glass.

Jungkook sees the face of a man...except, it can't be. The skin is unnaturally pale, sickly white, dark veins bulging beneath the surface, tiny pieces of glass wedged everywhere into its flesh. Blood coats its entire mouth, dripping to the floor beneath — but it's the eyes… They send a shot of terror right down Jungkook's spine. 

They’re clouded and gray, almost white and eerily vacant, yet somehow, they’re locked right onto him.

Jungkook feels like he can’t take a breath, his chest tight as his eyes grow with complete shock and confusion.

Then, it moves.

Its head twitches in a slow agonized form before it seems to fully register Jungkook's figure standing right across. It cocks his head towards him completely with a grotesque sound of craking and lunges forward, slamming its hands against the glass with inhuman strength. Giving it all his power to break inside. It lets out another groan, a guttural broken sound as it reveals a row of blood stained teeth, the deep red liquid dripping from its mouth.

Jungkook swallows hard. If he moves will it move too? Will it...chase him? He feels like no oxygen is reaching his lungs, or his brain, his mind struggling to even process what he is seeing. That…that can't be real. It can’t be human. All he can do is watch as his heartbeat pounds like a hammer in his chest, louder than the sirens and screams growing outside, louder than the animalistic banging against the window.

That…thing is trying to kill him. It’s going to kill him.

It doesn’t stop. It claws at the glass, smearing the blood, desperate, mindless — growing more violent as it seems to realise its stuck. But the glass creaks more with each hit, trembling under the pressure of each movement, and Jungkook realizes it might not hold up much longer. He has no time.

Move.

He has to move.

Like a spring snapping, his body finally kicks into action. He stumbles backwards, feeling glass beneath his shoes as he tries to hold in a breath, his eyes fixed on the creature as he tries to back away with steady steps. After a beat, he sprints towards the back of the studio, running as his body pushes through the beaded curtain into the back room. 

His hands fumble frantically in his pocket — keys, keys, keys — but his hands are trembling too much to grip them. Fuck.

Jungkooks mind races with a thousand questions colliding all at once. But none of them make sense. None of them are even remotely rational.

That thing. It wasn’t human. Then what the hell was it?

Another jarring bang echoes in the studio, followed by a loud screech. But Jungkook doesn’t look up. He doesn’t have time. His only thought is to get out of here. Fast. He needs to get away from whatever the fuck that is. He needs to get to his motorcycle. He needs to get the police.

His fingers finally curl around cold metal. The keys. With a sharp inhale, he yanks opens the heavy back door leading into the tiny side alley and slams it shut behind him as he rushes out.

It’s dim, lit only by a flickering street lamp near the end, casting eerie shadows across the brick walls. The air is cool and damp, the smell of rain fresh on the damp asphalt and the sound of sirens and shouting voices in the distance become even clearer than before. But Jungkook can't see the one thing he’s looking for. His gaze darts around frantically and he feels a dreadful realization claw at his throat. 

His motorcycle is gone. The spot where it’s always parked is empty. 

Jungkook panics, his hands coming to his hair. Fuck, fuck, fuck. As he looks around helplessly, his breath only grows more erratic. He finds no other option but to run, so he runs to the end of the alleyway, running right towards the screams and tumult, and when he reaches the end, the scene unfolding before him almost kicks him to his feet.

The once quiet street had turned into a horrifying scene. People mindlessly running away from something. But what his eyes land on almost immediately is on a young woman in the middle of street, clutching her neck with both hands, her body swaying as she chokes out for help before she drops to her knees, her body shaking. Jungkook watches in horror as someone else runs right past her, coming from the same direction, white button up shirt soaked in something dark as his features display a kind of terror he’d never witnessed before. Across the street, an older man is pulling down the storefront gates as he locks himself inside, letting two kids in high school uniforms scream and kick as they beg to be let in, screaming and crying.

“What the fuck...” the words escape involuntarily in a quiet mumble to himself, his hands coming to his head.

Jungkook blinks repeatedly, completely aghast. But he doesn’t think— just moves, bolting down the street. His thick leather boots slam against the wet pavements as he runs, his dark hair blows in the air, his skin covered in a layer of sweat as he weaves past a fallen trash can and then a body, his breath ragged as he tries not to slip on the broken glass. The rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins too strong to even feel his body protesting.

Rounding a corner, he nearly collides into another person, but his hands instinctively come up to push them away, almost knocking them to the ground. He doesn’t have a space in his mind to think about it or time to dwell on it. His body acting on autopilot. The more he runs, the more people seem to be running in the opposite direction. Away from something. His legs burn as he sprints faster, but coming off onto the main street of Jongno, he comes to a halt as he takes in the state of the streets, pupils blown as something terrible dawns on his expression.

The city is in shambles.

Everything.

Chaos.

Cars sit abandoned in the middle of the road, their doors flung open, some have crashed into street lamps and traffic signs, into each other at intersections, even buildings, the smoke clouding up into the dark sky. Blending with the red and blue of wailing sirens. People are everywhere. Hundreds of people are running in all different directions — some screaming, some covered in blood, some sobbing and some seemingly unmoving on the ground. Pushing and tripping against each other, running, but most don’t even know what they’re running from, simply following the crowd. 

How many more of those rabid people were there? How far had this spread? 

He wants so badly to be wrong, but something deep inside him tells him this is something big.

He stills for an instant, trying to orientate himself. He scans the street hurriedly for the best route to avoid getting stuck in a crush, to avoid more of those things…but all he sees is the panicked chaos spreading by the second. 

Jungkook feels like he’s outside of his body, like this is a dream, a nightmare he’ll wake up from any second now. He closed his eyes for a second and inwardly prays for it to be just a bad dream. But the air is thick with the acrid scent of smoke and blood, and the pounding in his chest is too real. The world around him still screams, set aflame.

This can’t be real.

This…this can’t be happening.

Just a few meters away from him two figures wrestle on the ground — except one of them isn’t fighting back anymore, and the other is hunched over them, their head buried in the victim’s throat. Jungkook staggers back, his stomach lurching at the gut wrenching sounds of someone being mauled alive, bile burning the back of his throat when he watches infected pulls back, large chunks of flesh dangling from its bloody mouth, dripping crimson.

The truth slams into him, but his mind is till fighting to accept it.

People are killing people. Eating people. Except…they're not people. They’re monsters.

Jungkook scans the crowd for an escape route, desperate. After a moment, he catches sight of the least crowded street, it's right on the way to his place. He takes a sharp breath and runs, runs non stop down a dozen blocks. But as he navigates the frantic roads, he spots something as he runs past a small street. Stopping him in his tracks. He notices a tiny figure huddled up alone at the beginning of an alleyway, wearing bright pink, shoulders trembling and hands pressed over her ears as she sobs violently. 

A child, no older than three or four if Jungkook had to guess. He halts, heart pounding as he registers her small frightened face, streaked with tears. 

He should keep running, he knows he should. His body is urging him to just keep moving, his insides shaking with adrenaline. That’s not his responsibility. He hasn’t stopped for anyone. But the burning images of what he’s just witnessed flash fresh in his mind. And something deeper roots him in place. Something inside him twists, snaps almost, an unfamiliar instinct that overrides his own confusion and fear.

Ah, fuck it. 

Before his mind can catch up with what he’s doing, he rushes into the alley, approaching the child cautiously with slow steps as he gets closer. He crouches down to her level, looking over his shoulder nervously. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay,” his voice is gentle but hurried as he searches her face. “Where are your parents? Are you lost?”

The small girl just looks up at him with large, wet eyes and a trembling pout, her hands balled into tiny fists. She doesn’t answer, just stares, whimpering and hiccuping softly, like she’s been warned to not talk to strangers — especially not ones clothed head to toe in black, covered in tattoos and piercings like himself. He glances around, hoping to see someone rushing towards them, any sign of this child's parents so he can just hand her over and run, but there’s nothing, just the crowd at the end of the alley pushing past in frantic waves and yelling, no one stopping to even look in their direction. 

He has to do something.

“Do you…where did you see your parents last-” a loud metal bang echoes in the distance, making Jungkook and the child flinch, a heavy breath escaping him. Fuck, his mind races as he realizes she’s truly alone. The girl just sobs more and he curses under his breath, eyes pressed shut as his mind scrambles for what to do.

He can’t just leave her alone in whatever the hell this is. But what the hell is he supposed to do?

“Uh, alright,” he coughs, throat dry, and speaks softly but hurriedly, trying to mask his unease as he reaches out his hand. “Come with me. It’s not safe here. I’ll… I'll help you find your parents.”

He’ll take her home, get her out of danger and call the police. That’s what he should do. 

It’s the right thing to do.

Okay. 

He hopes she knows he’s only trying to help. God, his pulse races every second he’s standing here still. They need to move. Now. She just stares at him, uncertain, then slowly reaches out with her tiny fingers, clasping his much larger hand with a surprising grip. She must see past his intimidating exterior, or be so terrified that she’ll take up any offer of being reunited with her parents, either way, her innocence makes Jungkook's heart sting a little. He can't just leave a child out here, he has to help her before something terrible happens to her or she falls into the wrong hands. He doesn't know what the hell to do, all he knows is they have to run, run right now and get away from this, and-

Suddenly, a piercing, desperate voice breaks through the havoc of noise, loud enough to catch Jungkook's attention.

“Jieun!” 

The sound makes his entire body lock up, his heart jumping in his chest as he turns toward the voice. 

Running towards him, just feet away, eyes filled with worry and tears, he sees you.

Jungkook feels the blood drain from his face. 

For a split moment, the world seems to fall silent. The noise, the screams and chaos, the sirens — all of it blurs into a distant hum in the back of his mind. He feels like the air is knocked straight from his lungs as he slowly takes in your face, a slightly more matured version of a face he once knew every inch of, a face he’d buried away along with every memory he’d tried so hard everyday to annihilate ever since you disappeared from his life. A face he could never forget, not even after four painful years.

It can’t be.

No, no, no-

But it’s real, because there you are. Lunging forward and arms out reaching for the little girl beside him with thick tears of relief flooding from your eyes. The child lets go of Jungkook's hand instantly and her tiny feet pat across the concrete as she launches herself into your embrace, leaving him behind to watch, frozen and stone cold like a statue. 

“Mommy!” She cries.

Jungkook feels his stomach drop. He thinks he's going to throw up.

He must’ve heard that incorrectly.

Mommy? That child is…

He feels like he can’t move, blood cold as he watches you crumble to your knees, gathering the little girl into your arms with a grip that looks suffocating, as if she might disappear into thin air again. Your whole frame trembles as you hold her close, relief pouring from you in loud, choked sobs, your fingers getting tangled in her wet hair as you comb though it desperately.

That’s.. your child?

“Jieun, oh my god, baby. You’re here, you’re okay,” your voice cracks with all the pain your body just underwent, whispering against her temple. “Are you hurt? You’re not hurt are you, baby?”

The last thing you remember is being in the convenience store when the chaos began. When you walked out you had no choice but to run into the crowd. How Jieun was holding your hand and in the blink of an eye, her hand slipped from yours. You turned back, screaming her name, but she was gone, just another small figure lost in the stampede of a city falling apart.

By the time you fought your way out of the crowd, Jieun was nowhere in sight. Your heart is still hammering loudly between your ribs, mind stuck on the past horrifying minutes since she disappeared from your side.

But as you finally look up… all your relief shifts, eyes darkening with shocking realisation that mirrors the expression in the man standing just feet away when you. Heart hammering in your chest as if it recognized him before your eyes do.

You blink once, twice to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. Completely distraught.

If Jungkook thought he was stuck in a bad dream before, he’s certain now this is all a cruel, sick and twisted nightmare. He feels his stomach churn. The weight of clashing emotions and utter disbelief thrown over him. So many questions he can’t yet voice crashing into him like a bucket of ice cold water, making his blood run cold.

This has to be some kind of sick joke. 

All of it. 

“Jungkook?” Your voice trembles, barely a whisper, as if the sound of his name out loud might shatter you to pieces.

He’s standing in front of you, drenched from the rain, his wet dark hair hanging messily in his face — so much longer than it used to be. He has new piercings on his face, and his features have definitely matured. He looks…different, yet somehow exactly how you remember him. His big dark eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, you feel your world stop. 

“Y/n?” His voice cracks slightly, like he’s just been punched in the gut. “Wh…what are you doing here?” but there’s no anger in his voice, just confusion, and perhaps, a hint of something painful. His words hang heavy between you, getting lost in the sounds of the burning city beyond this tiny street, and you feel a paralysing weight on your chest. Your mind reeling beyond comprehension.

You open your mouth to speak, ready to say something, anything. But you feel like you’ve forgotten how to form words. So you close it again, no words come out. His eyes flicker from your face to the little girl clutching your side, and you feel a pit sinking in your stomach. God, please no.

This can’t be happening — not here, not now. 

Not like this.

You want to bolt, to run and not look back like you always do. You wish the earth would just swallow you entirely. But all you can do is stand there, your heart pounding faster in your chest, mouth dry.

You try to step around him, desperate to move forward, to escape this horror. But before you know it, his hand catches your arm. He grips you gently, but with a force that indicates he won’t let you slip away again. His touch almost makes you fall to your knees.

“Come with me.” 

Your body stiffens at his words, and you swat your arm loose of his grip. You lift Jieun into your arms instinctively, fingers curling around her small body as if the mere act of holding her can shield you from everything. From him, from all the pain, from all of this living nightmare.

“No,” you say, the word coming out broken, like your breath is caught. “I can’t go with you. I need- I need to get hob-” 

“My apartment isn’t far,” he cuts in, not giving you space to say more. “We need to get off the streets.’’

You hesitate, watching his gaze scurry between you both again. Everything in you is telling you to just run, to put as much distance as you can between yourself and Jungkook. Willing this conversation to die before it can even begin. Before he can start asking questions you’re not ready to answer. Before you have to face things you’ve already buried deep. Before it’s too late. You need to leave. But Jieun is shaking, clutching onto you for dear life as she whimpers against your chest, and the sounds of screams still ringing in your ears. And there’s infected everywhere. You’re stuck in the middle of a warzone, and you have no idea what to do, no idea where to go.

All you know is you need to get Jieun out of this. Away from danger.

“Have you not seen what the fuck is going on? People have gone fucking insane!” His tone grows harsher now, trying to knock some sense into you. “We need to move.”

A gut wrenching scream echoes from somewhere beyond the alley, closer than before this time. Too close. 

Jungkook swears under his breath, running a hand through his hair, torn between a storm of brewing emotions and the immediate danger closing in. His jaw tightens as he looks behind him then back to you. “Y/n, we need to go. Now.”

You shake your head violently, and you can feel hushed tears burning behind your eyes. You can’t breathe, can’t think clearly. All you can feel is Jieun trembling in your arms.

“Please-” his voice drops, raw and desperate. Almost a plea.

And don’t know when or why it happens, but the next thing you know, your feet are moving. You’re running with everything you have left in you.

Somehow, the world is ending, and you’re allowing yourself to be guided by Jungkook down streets devoured by chaos, heading to the only safe place around you. 

His home.

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to build a home | chapter six

pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

genre: strangers to lovers. angst. loads of plot. fluff. smut.

word count: 10.7k (lol)

warnings: swearing. straddling. dry humping. fingering. handjob. jungkook big cock. cum – loads of cum. moment of silence bc i didn't write angst once in the warnings.

author’s note: well, surprise! what did I tell y’all about the countryside huh. It does things to me. I love this chapter. I don’t want to give much away but… it’s so soft. and then no it’s not!!! it’s hella hard 🤠. I’m sending a million kisses your way. thank u for all the love always – it means the world!!!! xxxx <3

p.s. happy three weeks of tbah. thank u for being here.

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Texts in bold + italic resemble a recollection of past events.

Chapter Six

In all your years as designated romantic of your generation you’ve come to pick up on patterns that best describe the feeling of falling in love. Now, you’ve grown close. You’ve fallen, never quite landing in love but you’ve fallen enough to have lived through a couple of said patterns yourself.

Free-falling, now… that’s a different thing.

Songs and poems – black and white movies. They all do a beautiful job at portraying something you always found a bit silly, as much of a romantic as you are. They fixate on this idea that the world seems rosier when you’re falling in love – that you see things in a different light. Take in the world in a different way. That one day you feel love and the next you wake up and your commute to work is brighter; friendly faces and fresh flowers everywhere. They make us believe that love is the door that opens our eyes to the wonders of the world. And as unbelievable as it seems… you can’t deny it.

You see it.

You feel it.

You lay in the grass after a Sunday stroll with Lucy that ended up turning into a picnic. She’s singing along to some love song, swaying her head from side to side as she hums – something about the world ending and no other way that I can spend it. You’re about to full on judge her for playing Justin Bieber but an absentminded smile tugs at her lips and the sight alone is sweet – not to mention the fact that you know exactly which smile put that one on her face.

You smile, too.

You’re not too far off. You look up at the sky again. So far, you’ve made up five shapes in the sea of endless clouds above you. The very abstract outline of a strawberry. A dove – yeah, it’s missing a wing but it’s a dove alright. Two blurry faces leaning against one another, one a bit taller than the other. A croissant. And last but not least, an angel. It’s still up there – face formed by faint specks of white cloud, a perfect halo on top and big wings at his sides.

You try to look for your strawberry, only the shape now resembles a liver more than anything. You wince – it’s love.

You feel it in every song, in the cup of coffee you had this morning. In the yellow dress you’re wearing – the same one you wore the first day you met him. You smile, having had no idea of just what you were getting yourself into back then. Remembering just how much of a mistake it all felt like when you sat there, opposite him, as he teared apart at your every ounce of confidence. He was right – mistakes can be…

“What’s all the grinning for?” Lucy’s voice breaks you out of your pensive state.

The best thing to ever happen to you.

“Him.” you reply, simply. “You?” you roll over to your side to face her, head resting against your arm.

“My him.” She giggles. “What exactly, though? Still digesting yesterday?”

You shake your head. “No. Or yes. I don’t know. Maybe…”

“It’s good, ___. I think what he did was very brave.” She says.

You nod your head, that soft smile back where he left it. “Me too. I don’t think I’m over thinking it. It’s just that…”

“You can’t stop thinking about it.” Her grin is mischievous, knowing.

You roll back, the grass feels cooling against your arms. “Yeah,” you sigh, a bit more dreamily than intended.

The silence is comfortable and you welcome it as you both lean against the tall book shelf in your impromptu seating position on the floor. You stretch your legs in front of you, fumbling a bit with the rings on your fingers and he taps his feet repeatedly in a slow motion – eyes fixated on them.

“So… good mistake or bad mistake?” You say, breaking the ice that feels everything but cold.

Jungkook smiles to himself. No trace of a mistake roaming around in his mind. Just you and your lips against his.

“Good. Just good.”

“Good.” You bite your lip, unsuccessfully holding back a smile. “What now?”

Jungkook waits for the nerves to hit – the regret. But it doesn’t come.

“I guess… I mean, fuck. There are so many things that I still have to… heal from, or whatever my therapist says. I don’t- I would never want to lay that on you, though.”

You nod, taking his words in. A bit surprised at his sudden ability to communicate.

He grabs your hand in his, squeezing it lightly. “But… you. I don’t want to run from you anymore.”

You turn to him, giving him a tender smile. “I don’t want you to run from me either. We can take it slow… there’s no rush. I want to know you- really know you. At whatever pace you set.”

“I want to know you, too.” You shy at his words, gaze looking down at where your hands entwine. “We can… ease into it. I mean, I still have to get over the fact I’m five years your senior.”

You try with all your might but you break, snorting at his words, trying to keep your laughter at a library-friendly volume.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, voice serious but a grin forming at his lips, too.

“Sorry, sorry. That is- preposterous, sir.” You tease, “only add like… fifteen years to that and you could be my father.” You feign shock.

His hand comes up to your face, covering your mouth with his hand as he tries to control his own laughter. “Please don’t say that.”

You laugh. “Sorry, sorry.” He can feel you pouting against his palm. “Jungkook,”

“Yes?”

“I- I can’t wait. To know you, I mean.”

His fingers lace around yours once again, a soft, genuine smile when he says, “Neither can I.”

~

The aroma of fresh coffee fills the air and complemented with the bright sunlight coming through the big window it adds to the overall heavenly atmosphere the morning holds. It’s a Monday and you’ve never felt keener to get out of bed and kickstart the week.

And yes, your commute to work was brighter and filled with friendly faces. Fresh flowers, too. In fact, they sit on top of the kitchen counter – three pretty sunflowers, tall and proud. You always did think the sleek, white space was in need of some oomph – key word for: love. So, you took the liberty. Mrs. Chae held them as if they were a newborn baby, excitedly placing them in a vase with some fresh water.

In front of you, is your breakfast masterpiece – a bright smoothie bowl for Soori who has taken on a passion for, well, all sorts of fruits. You place the neatly cut wedges on top, adding some granola to it. And Cheerio’s. A bit of an odd combination, yes, but the kid loves her Cheerio’s. You cut the strawberries into a heart shape, just like Lucy taught you that one time you were helping her garnish a fruit tart. Everything is more interesting for Soori if it takes on a fun shape and you easily comply – testing your creativity to make life just that more fun for her.

Right on queue with your train of thought, you hear her distant baby babble that grows louder and louder the closer she gets to the kitchen. Your gaze snaps to the direction of the entrance, excited to see her.

Jungkook comes into view – body slightly bent over and waddling a bit before his own gaze comes up, eyes landing on yours as he gives you a warm smile. You return it, frowning slightly when you realize there’s no Soori in his arms, even though you can hear her. He giggles softly, looking down, a proud look to his face. You round the kitchen counter, hands coming to cover your mouth when you see her. Her tiny fists hold onto Jungkook’s middle and index fingers, her short little legs moving rapidly in-between jumps and steps. She’s wearing pink Carhartt overalls with a white baby tee underneath. The tiniest pair of Chuck Taylor’s you’ve ever seen on her speedy feet.

“Oh my Goodness! Look at you, Soo.” You fall to your knees and she shrieks once you come into eyesight, walking towards you excitedly with the help of her dad who still holds her by her tiny hands. Once she’s in your arms, he lets go. You hold her to you, wrapping her in a hug, kissing her chubby cheeks. “That was so good, princess. You did so good!” You coo and she giggles, open mouth returning your kisses – a sloppy slobber all over your face but you don’t care.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Jungkook says, looking down at the two of you, his heartbeat picking pace slightly at the sight. “Yesterday she stood all by herself for 3.7 seconds.”

“What? No way, Soo.” Your baby voice is on and she jumps in your arms. You pull her closer to you. “That’s amazing, bub. You’re going so fast. Too fast,” you pout, surprised by how much you’ve seen her grow in such a small amount of time.

Soori’s hands come to rest at either side of your face – Jungkook thinks about how much it resembles the way he holds her before he showers her with kisses. She’s starting to mimic everything he does and when she leans her face forward and leaves another set of open mouth kisses against your nose his chest flutters – a feeling he can’t quite explain. All he knows is that it feels so light. So right.

“Good morning,” he says finally as you get up from your kneeling position on the floor, Soori in your arms as you place her on the crook of your hip.

“Morning,” you return, a smile forming at your lips at the sight of his. You let yourself get lost in his face, because you can. He looks so ethereal in the mornings. You notice he’s not wearing his usual dress shirt and slacks, having opted for a much more casual look in blue jeans and a flowy blue shirt, the first three buttons tentatively open, exposing his tan skin. “Is it spirit day at the office?”

He scoffs at your teasing, playfully rolling his eyes. “No. Not going to the office today, actually. Well- technically I am. I have to go oversee some renovations at the hotel.”

“Oh…”

“It’s in a location by the river. My parents are actually there at the moment. Staycation and whatnot. So, I’m bringing Soori with. And you.”

Jungkook sees Mrs. Chae’s eyes widen at his words – specially the last ones. He walked right into that one though, he’ll admit that much. He clears his throat before he adds, “as in, you know- Soori. For Soori. If you don’t mind.”

You chuckle slightly, biting at your tongue. “Of course. Let’s fill her tummy and we can go.”

He nods, not missing the glint in your eyes and your playful smile before you turn around.

You’re wearing a pretty white dress, the fabric hugging your waist perfectly before flowing at the bottom. Just like Soori, you’re wearing a pair of white Converse. He walks himself right into that dreamy thought, too. Only this one he did purposely.

It’s going to be a long day.

And for the first time in a long time, he looks forward to it.

~

Jungkook and you divide the task of getting Soori strapped into her car seat – you keep her distracted by letting her fidget with your fingers and he works the harness around her chest and tummy, pulling on it until he’s sure she’s safely tucked in.

“Hey, you’re so good, baby.” He coos at her, pride swelling in his chest at her mellow behaviour. She smiles, holding at his finger and pulling him closer. She has a tight grip on yours too.

Jungkook smacks his lips against Soori’s cheeks, earning himself a giddy giggle from her. She scrunches her little nose when he kisses down her neck, tickling her. She tries to push him away, never once letting go of her hold on your fingers, bringing your hand to Jungkook’s face as her loud snickers fill the car. They’re contagious and soon enough, the three of you are laughing.

“Does Soori have tickles?” You ask her, free hand coming to poke at her sides as she jumps and screeches at the feeling.

“She’s so ticklish.” He says, coming up for air for about a second before he dives right back in, nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck. She kicks and screams, full-on cackling now and you can tell that it’s not gonna be too long until she gets fed up. Her hand comes up to either side of Jungkook’s head and you tug at his hair slightly. “Hey, hey. That’s enough. She’s going to run out of smiles and then what do we do.”

Jungkook laughs, heart wrenching at your sweet voice that you reserve just for her – liking how you use it on him, too. “Never,” he says, landing one final kiss on top of her head before he straightens his body. You settle into the seat next to Soori and he frowns, saying, “what are you doing?”

“What do you mean,” you return, confusion in your words.

He bites back a chuckle, a grin adorning his face. “Come sit at the front with me.” It’s more a statement than it is a question and he sees you hesitate, eyes zeroing down on Soori’s hand around your fingers and then back to him. “She’ll be fine, come on.”

You hesitate for yet another second before you’re exiting the backseat of his sleek car, making your way to the passenger’s seat. You both get in at the same time and you watch as he gets comfortable, starting the engine and maneuvering the steering wheel as his free hand flies behind your headrest, body twisting slightly as you exit the parking space. Soori whines in the backseat, something awfully close to Da before she breaks out in unintelligible babble. When he glances at her she’s looking at you, small face scrunched up in disappointment.

“Hey, you. We can share, okay? Let daddy have her for a minute?” Soori diverts her eyes, gaze already focused on whatever is going on outside the window, bringing her pacifier back to her mouth and suckling on it.

You giggle. “She’s growing at speed lighting. She’s full on trying to talk now. And walk!”

“I know. We already made a made a pact though – she’s not allowed to do either when I’m away at work.”

“I imagined she agreed to it right away?” You tease.

“Of course. She’s loyal like that.” He looks in the rear-view mirror, smiles when he sees her eyes on him. He turns to you, “how are you feeling?”

“Good. Very good.” You say, a bit sheepishly. “You?”

“Me too,” a lopsided grin forms on his lips and the sight has you weak at the knees.

“Did Taehyung pick up on it?”

He turns to you for a second, a look on his face that says what do you think. “Did Lucy pick up on it?”

“Touché,” you say, “is that… bad?”

“No. They might tease me a bit but they wouldn’t do anything to make me feel uncomfortable before I’m ready to talk about it. Taehyung and Jimin, though… they just have a sixth sense for that stuff. So, it’s hard to keep it a secret.”

“So, we’re a secret?”

He looks at you briefly, an apologetic look to his face. “Does that bother you?”

You smile, reaching for his hand that rests on his thigh. “No. I think it’s the smartest thing to do. At least until we… figure us out, I guess. I am your nanny after all.”

“Nope. You’re her nanny,” he says, motioning to Soori. “You two can talk business later.”

You laugh, playfully swatting his leg. Before you can move away, he’s locking your hands in his hold – intwining your fingers together. It’s all so overwhelmingly good. The lightness to his mood, the witty jokes, that relaxed expression taking over his face. His hand on yours – finally. You missed it, the feel of his skin. The butterflies it sends to your tummy, the warmth it radiates. You could give up on a steady heart rate any day if it meant experiencing the euphoric feeling of having him close.

“Jokes aside,” he starts, “I wouldn’t want her to… lose you.” His face falls, so evidently that you don’t miss it. You can feel it – the way his head is being swarmed by intrusive thoughts right now. Full of bad news. Uncertainty. Fear.

You squeeze his hand. “I know we have a long way to go of… figuring things out. But she’s important to me, too, and I wouldn’t jeopardize that either. I wouldn’t take that leap if I… if I wasn’t sure. About you. About wanting to try. And getting to know you.”

He only nods. His silence makes you feel uneasy, like maybe you pushed too far, said something that would put him in a compromising position. You know his walls are high and even though the full story is still unknown to you, the pieces you do have form a painful puzzle.

So, you don’t say anything – giving him enough space to process things in his own time. Understanding that trust is a tricky thing when broken. Like a mirror, it reflects on everything that stands its way – morphing our own truths, making us feel unbelieving, undeserving.

And as much as you want to pour all the love that brews inside of you onto him at once – to have him know he’s got you; you figure the best thing you can do is to not aid that reflection further by imposing your own fears onto it. Fear doesn’t cancel out fear but understanding does.

Understanding, you conclude, can sometimes be stronger than love.

~

Growing up, you were always in a constant state of praise. From your teachers, your parents – hell, even your friends. There was something so captivating to the people around you about how collected you were, how dedicated and applied. Back then, of course, your world was smaller and your priorities didn’t go as far as making sure you excelled in school, volunteered at your local church to put a smile on your mom’s face and be someone your small group of friends could rely on.

So, needless to say, self-control was easy. You used to believe promiscuity was simply a side effect of hormonal angst and not having enough to do. Thankfully, you were exempted. Not from the hormonal angst, no. In fact, sex was always something you felt drawn to in literature and art. But as for not having enough to do, that just wasn’t your case.

And even when a lot of these beliefs went away along with your naivety you still remained somewhat good at keeping desire cool, calm and collected.

But you’re only human.

And only so strong.

You feel like the universe is playing a silly little number on you now – making you pay for whatever twisted wave of superiority you rode as a teenager. It was probably induced by spending too much time volunteering at the church and cringing at the descriptive way in which your heart and road to heaven would be corrupted by having pre-marital sex, courtesy of the nun that taught your bible study group.

Your body shudders, cringing at the memory alone.

Your eyes divert to said silly little number – sporting that perfectly fashionable baby carrier of his, a sleeping Soori flushed to his chest, as he talks business. And you’re speaking business. Casually blurting out numbers that don’t make mathematical sense to you because how does money even work? Correction: how does money even work like that?

He walks alongside the architect as they review plans, numbers, paperwork, strategy – you name it, Jungkook seems to have the lead on everything. It takes you by surprise when he takes a hold of the pencil and tweaks at the paper plan, adding to the perfect drawing of what will be the new rest & relaxation space. In simpler words, a spa. With all the luxury amenities, in perfect tune with the whole essence of the hotel.

The hotel alone surprises you, not having expected the paradisical feel to it. It felt like a small oasis, only twenty minutes away from the city, surrounded by so much green and crisp, fresh air. You’d passed by The West End multiple times, the one in the city, that is. A tall, glass building that spewed modernity and money just by being in its close vicinity. This West End though, as luxurious and modern as it was, had a more relaxed feel to it.

Jungkook seems to be exceptionally involved with this one, that usual passion he carries about his business soaring just a tad higher. To you, it feels like this one in particular hits close to home and you wonder why. He gets visibly excited when the architect retrieves his iPad, showing him a colourful digital visual of what’s to be the final outcome. Soori fidgets slightly in the carrier and he puts a hand to her face, caressing gently in a soothing manner, making sure his voice goes back to its normal pitch. She’s full-on teething now and her discomfort is painful to watch, especially for Jungkook. So, when nap time came and she wanted nothing more than to be held by her father it came as a no-brainer to him – always taking advantage of whatever time he can have with her during the week.

And this right here is just why you think the universe is playing games with you. Torturous, evil games. Because no, that goody-two-shoes behaviour didn’t last a month in university. You, of course, not only matured and fell victim to the freshman fifteen but also navigated through your sexual awakening in a, needless to say, healthy manner.

But Jeon Jungkook is hormonal angst mixed with three out of the seven deadly sins and you have no desire to repent.

If the pull that draws you to him was only physical then you’d make do. Brave it like a good girl and impose that self-control that carried you through your innocence. But the tension that builds in your body for him happens to go slightly beyond just the physical.

It’s his mind, too. That big brain of his, oozing intellect left and right – how effortlessly it comes to him to lead, persuade and gain people’s trust. How everyone that works for him respects him for all the good reasons, as opposed to fear. How he puts his all in whatever it is he does, perfecting it until his interest wears off and then he moves on onto the next big thing – never ceasing his ability to learn and grasp new concepts. You think his mind is exceptional and that just makes him all the hotter.

His humour and light-hearted ways are one hell of a magnet as well. The witty banter and sharp comebacks, funny without ever being mean. The way no matter what his titles are, to his friends he will forever be the youngest one – their Ggukie. And how he lets them, basking on it, welcoming the love and letting himself be babied. You like the way he can’t help but get giddy when something really cool catches his eye – how even though he’s seen a lot, he never acts like he’s seen it all, letting himself still be surprised by the world around him.

And last but not least – how good of a dad he is. How out of all his titles and duties, that one seemed to be the one he carries with the most pride.

“So, what now, darling?” Your dad said.

You’d barely had enough time to remove your cap and gown, finding a comfortable position in the booth at the diner.

“Well,” you hesitate for a moment, trying to find the right words. “I quit my job at the bar.”

“Oh, honey. That is great news. That was no place for a young lady,” your mother adds, relief filling her face. You appreciate her concern.

“That is good, ___. It was only holding you back. What other offers do you have lined up?” Your father presses, curious and, frankly speaking, gullible.

“Well, dad- it’s not that easy.”

“Of course it’s not! Finding a job is a job of its own, ___. When I was your age I walked the streets tirelessly, paper in hand, circling every single option, talking to anyone that was willing to listen about my qualifications-”

“Dad.” He finally stops, looking at you, “I think that’s very admirable but, in this day and age we use Linkdn and no one is really willing to listen. You think you know rejection until a faceless HR worker ghosts you.”

“I understood two things from what you just told me but, nonetheless, darling, the value of good, honest work never goes unappreciated.”

You contemplate his words for a second. “I was thinking about volunteering at the library… we just passed it actually. It’s a book club for little kids.”

Your mom beams at your words, always one to encourage any sort of helping hand. Your dad, on the other hand, looks a bit crestfallen at the thought.

“You know, honey,” your mom takes it upon herself to break the heavy silence that falls around the table, “when you were a little girl you loved playing with dolls. You’d dress them in your old baby clothes and even made me get you real diapers for them! You went on to become a scholar, a bright young woman but… I always did think that you’d come into this world to be a mother.”

You know she doesn’t mean for her words to hit you in the gut like a clean punch but they do. Not because you didn’t share said dream but because you didn’t believe it was your only one. You didn’t think you’d have to sacrifice your talent and brains to be the very first thing you wanted to be when the world was four walls and an endless array of dolls: a mom.

“You’re a good dad.” You tell him, when it’s just the two of you and Soori, who has just begun to stir awake, once again.

He looks at you, surprised by how flustered your words find him. “Thank you. I try…” he replies, voice laced with honesty as he lets out a sigh.

“And a good hotel owner… person.”

He laughs at this, head falling back on his shoulders. “Thank you. Where is this coming from?”

“I don’t know,” your gaze lands on the tall trees as you walk a narrow walkway back to the main lobby. You wish you could hold his hand. “I like seeing you… in action.”

“Yeah?” You only nod and he doesn’t miss the faint rosy tint that creeps up on your cheeks. “I thought you’d find it boring.”

“There is very little in this world I find actually boring.”

“I like that about you.”

God there it is. The gentleness of his soul. The butterflies that set flight once again, having never truly left.

You let yourself stare at him, a liberty that makes the sight of him all that more enticing. He stares back, a desire tugging in his chest to either tell you just how much he likes not just that about you but also the way you always speak your mind and hold his gaze so intensely he can sometimes even read it. Or just kiss you. His mind holds the debate, eyes traveling to your lips as he surrenders into the temptation. He’s just about to lean in when a higher force settles it for him.

“Darling!” You both turn around, slightly shaken as you’re met with the sight of none other than his mother.

“Hey, mom. How are you?” He says, walking towards her.

“I’m good, I’m good. Let me see her!” She’s excited and that’s all Soori needs to fall into her arms as soon as she’s freed from the coziness of the baby carrier and Jungkook’s chest. “Oh, look at those teeth. She looks just like you. Well, she’s prettier- no offense, honey.”

“Non-taken and agreed.”

“___, it’s good to see you again.”

“You too, Mrs. Jeon. I like your hat.” Jungkook can’t help the smirk that tugs at his lips as his mother is taken aback by your compliment. His hand flies to his mouth to cover the impending chuckles that threaten to come out of it.

“Thank you.” She replies, her voice slightly confused but he can tell she’s flattered by the look on her face. “Your father’s at the restaurant waiting. Your meeting took too long, darling. You know he doesn’t like to wait. Let’s join him, shall we?”

She doesn’t necessarily wait for a reply from either of you, promptly turning around and heading to the direction of the restaurant. Soori’s in her arms and from a distance you can see how her eyes widen as her grandma speaks to her as she would a friend. ‘It is almost your birthday. I have no idea what to get you! What are you into these days? I hope you didn’t inherit that god-awful habit your father had back in the day of putting everything in his mouth. It turned just about everything into a choking hazard. What’s your favourite colour? Why don’t I ever see you in a dress…’

You can’t help but snort, a closed-lipped smile locking in your laughter.

“She’s in for a real treat when she finds out she was in tears the other day because I had to turn the Animal Planet off because all of a sudden the screen panned out to a lion absolutely devouring an emu.”

You break, full-on laughing now at the sole imagery of a nonchalant Soori and a frenzied Jungkook fumbling with the buttons of his high-tech remote control.

“Or when she finds out she can’t wear dresses because she likes to show everyone and their mothers her belly button.” You add.

“If I kept them on their toes just imagine her.”

You both remain in a peaceful silence for about a second as your laughter dies down.

“Hm, well… it’s all a karmic cycle so be prepared.” You muse, humming as he frowns.

“Nope. I’m prepared, you see? I at least know the god-awful habit is all babies. Not just me.”

You turn around, walking backwards as you face him. “Nope. I wasn’t talking about baby Jungkook.”

“Ha. Well, I stand my case. I also happen to be prepared. I have a bullshit radar for rebellious teens.”

“Takes one to know one.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “I was an angel.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you look too much like one.”

“That’s just a bonus,” he flirts, picking his pace so he can get closer to you.

You click your tongue, biting your lip before you say,

“No. that’s just deceiving.”

~

Lunch is a smooth affair. Jungkook is merely an observer as his mother entertains Soori with random lady-who-brunches talk and his dad picks an interest in dissecting your literature degree. At first, it’s a bit patronizing and Jungkook visibly tenses next to you – it almost feels as if he was introducing you to them in the very same sense you’re both very well exploring. But his father, with a deep-rooted love for the classics, caves – engaging in quite the conversation. He doesn’t quite recognize the majority of the names you both throw back and forth but he looks at you in total awe. You talk about things with such passion and excitement. With love. And it is then that the thought haunts him:

You are love personified.

Jungkook doesn’t know just what that means. Or why his heart and brain ganged up on him and put the thought in his mind – engraving it. But it makes sense to him. You have a softness about you, a lightness that you carry that sheds light into the darkest of spaces, breaking down the tallest of walls. The hardest of men, i.e., his very own father.

Now, his parents might fall into most of the stereotype that characterize the filthy rich but, being assholes for no reason is not one of them. So, they welcome you and Jungkook can tell it surprises you. He also knows that a big part of their approach is due to the fact that they can so clearly see how fond Soori is of you and that is the one thing they’ve weakened for in all of Jungkook’s twenty-eight years on this earth. They have a weakness for her he doesn’t even think they had for him and he thinks it’s only normal, especially considering the circumstances. In fact, he’s grateful for it.

You all say your goodbyes, his mother pressing a kiss to Soori’s forehead before she lets her know, ‘table manners will be discussed with urgency during our next meeting’. She just giggles, grabbing a fist-full of her hair and tugging playfully, making her yelp. Jungkook feigns a stern front, attempting to tell her off but in reality, he just finds it hilarious.

Once they’re out of eyesight you turn to him, eyebrows raising in amusement.

“So, Mr. Jeon’s a romantic.” You state, making him wince in surprise.

“Sorry, come again?”

“Come on. Barret, Neruda, Keats… Baudelaire. The greatest poets of our time. All moved by a little thing called love.”

Jungkook doesn’t know enough to agree but coming from you he doesn’t doubt it. He doesn’t doubt you’re so well-read in something you carry so well. Love.

“I’ve heard my dad’s name followed by many adjectives but romantic is a first.”

“Are you one, too?”

“What?”

“A romantic.”

He hums. “Elaborate.”

“What is there to elaborate in?” You laugh, taking Soori in your arms when she decides to perform her free-fall from her father to you. It’s a good thing you’re both well-trained, always ready to catch her.

“Well,” he gets nervous, your effect on him makes his brain malfunction at times. “It’s a broad term, isn’t it?”

“Mm, depends. How do you see it? Do you see it as love or do you see it as love?” Your voice lilts at the end and he can’t help but laugh at it, half amused and half endeared.

“I don’t know,” but whatever he sees you at, that’s the closest. “But I have my set of beliefs.”

“Ah. So you are.”

He rolls his eyes but you don’t miss his smile. He can’t deny you, really. Because as much as love failed him, he can’t help but see it. He sees it in his parents, in their odd little ways of showing it. In his friends, in how he’s seen even the most untameable of characters be swooped off of their feet and straightened in one swift movement – all because of love. Love walked out on Jungkook but it left him the thing he loves the most. And the one person that he knows will always love him. She has four set of teeth and looks dangerously close to another free-fall as she smiles at him.

And he sees it in you. In the way you take on the world. In the way you speak and read your books and write in that beat up journal. In the way you sing to Soori who will most likely know the entirety of Elton John’s discography by the time she’s two.

Love feels so scary to Jungkook right now – it threatens to break him, even. But he’s not blind to it.

“Come on, I want to show you something before we go.”

~

“What is it with you and non-traditional means of transportation?”

The three of you stand at the end of the dock that sways softly to the beat of the current of the river. A long and sleek speedboat right in front of you. It’s beautiful – dark wood exteriors with black and white detailing, a royal blue flag with The West End insignia on it. You all but gawk as Jungkook jumps in, unconsciously taking a step back with Soori in your arms.

“You know, for someone who’s so easily entertained you sure are hard to impress.” He says as he digs through one of the compartments beneath the seats, retrieving a small, pink life-jacket, presumably Soori’s.

“What about this screams easy?” You sneer, making him let out a loud chuckle.

“Pass her over,” he tells you, hands stretching out towards Soori who jumps excitedly in your hold. You hesitate for a second, frowning at him. “Oh, don’t worry. She loves this thing. Look I even-,” he points to the tail of the boat and you see it. Soori Blue – her name engraved in dainty, cursive letters.

“Did you consent to this?” You ask her. She returns your question with a giggle.

You pass her to him and he puts the life-jacket around her, adjusting tightly as she distracts herself with her trusted giraffe. Once he’s done, he stretches his arm out for you. You don’t take it right away.

“Come on, ___. It’ll be fun.” He presses.

“No speeding, just boating, okay?”

“Don’t worry. it’s just boating when baby’s in. We can do the speeding another day.” He winks and you know nothing about his sentence was sexual but the action sends a flutter to your lower stomach.

You get in, taking Soori from him and settling in one of the plush seats as you wrap your arms around her, holding her tight. Just like flying, she takes on this activity like a champ, squirming excitedly when Jungkook gets behind the wheel and sets sail, no destination in particular, just leisurely roaming about the waters.

You can’t quite deny it – it’s soothing. The breeze is nice and relaxing and he sets a steady, relaxing pace. You glance towards him, eyes focused on the waters ahead and hands effortlessly manoeuvering the wheel. The wind dishevels his hair but it’s one hell of a sight as the strands fly freely around his face. He eventually tugs his front bangs behind his ears, making him look ten times dreamier.

He catches you staring. You look so beautiful. Hair dancing in the wind, your hand pressing down on Soori’s silky strands so they don’t fly off. Your white, flowy dress falls victim, too, as it pulls up your legs, exposing your tan skin to him. Soori’s fingers point to nowhere in particular and you pull her to you, kissing her cheeks before you nod and say, ‘water!’. His brain short-circuits at the impact the exchange has on him – on how tender you are with her. Jungkook has always loved to see the world through Soori’s eyes and always dreaded the day she’d outgrow that wonder. But in you he realizes that doesn’t have to necessarily be the case. He thinks that if you stuck around for long enough, she might never outgrow it – just adapt it. Just like you.

He brings the engine to a stop once the boat is far enough for the hotel to be a tiny speck in the distance.

“Hey, Jungkook,” you call out to him, “I’m impressed!”

Your smile widens as he walks closer to you, coming to a seat beside you.

“You like my speedboat?” He teases.

“I like your boat.”

You’re both laughing now, so loud even Soori joins in.

“Is it cliché to say that I like to come here to think?”

“No. I get it. I mean, it wouldn’t be the first place to cross my mind but… I see why it is yours.”

“You can’t escape them here. Your thoughts.”

You turn to him. “Do you escape them often?”

“I guess. Sometimes…”

“We all have thoughts that we want to escape, I reckon.”

“Do you have them?”

“Why wouldn’t I,” you ask.

“I don’t know. You strike me as brave. Like you would run straight towards them.”

“Brave? Me?” Your voice is shocked.

“Yeah,” his eyes meet yours. “You.”

“I’ve never been called brave in my life.”

He scoffs light-heartedly. “It was the first thing I saw in you. Really saw, I mean. When you sat there and put me in my place after I nagged at you during the interview. Nobody had ever sat my ass down so poetically, by the way.”

“You deserved that.”

“I deserved worst.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Your eyes are gentle and sincere and Jungkook melts at your words. At all of you.

“___,” he pauses, contemplating something you can’t read.

“Yes?”

“I haven’t felt sure of much in… a long time. Other than Soori and a handful of useless things, nothing holds much certainty in my life.” Your gaze deflects to the wooden floor at his words. “But you- I am sure of you. And wanting to try. And getting to know you.” He mimics your words from earlier, a timid smile forming at his lips at the relief he feels over saying them back. They’d been stuck in his chest, tickling up his throat every time he all but glanced at you.

You smile at him, a world of feelings taking over you, an airy voice when you say, “you’re brave, too.”

Your words ring in his ears, straight to his chest, knocking the breath out of him. For a second, he sees himself in your eyes – believes your words. And without much hesitation, he kisses you. Leaning into you, gently cupping your cheek with his hand. It takes you by surprise but you let yourself fall into his lips, scooting closer to him on the seat, both your arms still wrapped around Soori who babbles away as she plays with her giraffe. Your lips are soft and he pulls your bottom one in-between his teeth as you let out a sigh – a delicate sound that he catches with his mouth as his tongue finds yours, allowing him to go deeper.

He pulls back slightly, the both of you gasping for air for about a second before your lips find one another yet again – this time in a gentle lock, as he indulges in the plushness of your lips, how full they feel against his.

Your moment is cut short by Soori’s high-pitched shriek. You both look down at her and she smiles, blowing a sloppy raspberry into thin air, happy to have your attention back on her.

You bounce your leg and he pinches her cheek and that’s enough for her to be satisfied, eyes back on her plushie as she jumps straight back into the previous conversation they were having.

Jungkook leans back against the seat and extends his arm to the side, locking it around you until you’re safely tucked in – a cocoon of his warmth as you lean your head on his shoulder and his hand plays with your hair. Soori is in the middle and she mimics the two of you, leaning her body backwards until she’s resting against your stomachs.

“Oh, God. She copies everything,” you say.

“I know. Get ready for double the sloppy kisses.”

“From you or her?”

“Both.”

He leans forwards, his lips coming to smack at your cheek as he nuzzles closer to you.

You giggle at his touch – Soori follows.

~

Doorway goodbyes have gotten a tad bit harder with a teething Soori. It’s not that she fights being back in your arms after Jungkook hands her over to you – it’s more so having to see him leave and not having the possibility to alternate between the two of you.

Desperate times have called for desperate measures – aka, distractions. Today is half a pancake she nibbles on, chubby hand drenched in sticky honey. She offers it to Jungkook, always the kind girl she is. You think he’s going to take a fake-bite and fake-chew on it the way he normally does but he actually goes for it. Making you gasp in surprise.

“Heeey. Get your own pancake, daddy.” You say in a serious voice.

“Don’t call me that.” He points a finger at you, a scowl to his face. You chuckle.

“Don’t eat her pancake.”

“She likes to share.” He returns, his Soori voice on as he coos at her before kissing her cheeks. “Hey, by the way… we’re having a pool party on Sunday.”

“Oh. Fun…”

“Yeah. Jiminie’s inviting Lucy,” he wags his eyebrows at you. “I’m excited to finally meet her. Properly, I mean.”

You smile, excited for the two of them to be taking this step. “You’ll love her. You all will. She’s the best. Soori will love her!”

“I’m sure we will. But hey, I was wondering if maybe… you could come?”

“Why,” your tone is more brass than you originally intend.

“I want you there. I mean- I know we said… I don’t think they’ll be surprised. They’ll just think you’ll be here for Soori. Unless you don’t feel comfortable with that or- maybe you have plans which I completely understand-”

You smile a little at his rambling, interrupting him as he narrows his eyes at you. “I’ll be here. For Soori.” You see the fallen expression in his face and you break, “and for you. I like seeing you during the weekend. You get less bossy.”

“Funny, you.”

“Oh, I’m hilarious.”

He scrunches his nose, nodding. “Yeah, you kinda are.”

He scans the room for a second before confirming the coast is clear, leaning closer to you and placing a sweet peck on your lips – getting carried away for a second too long as he deepens the kiss.

He knows you don’t know this but you make doorway goodbyes easier for him, too.

~

“What is it with him?” Kenny’s eyes are glued to Jungkook as he sips on a beer and laughs at something Namjoon just said.

“I don’t know. He even laughed at something Tae said today.” Mai responds, her eyes fixed on the same sight.

“Maybe therapy has been helping?” Suelgi suggests.

“Yeah,” Mai’s voice drifts right in tune with her thoughts. Her eyes look for you, sat in Soori’s mat playing with her and Dae. “Therapy…”

“Whatever it is… it makes me happy. I mean, I hadn’t seen a smiling Ggukie in a while. I missed it.”

“Me too. And just overall, he seems different.” Suelgi says.

Mai smiles, simply nodding as she sips on her glass of wine.

He’s different alright.

~

“Hey,” you walk towards the small circle Jungkook, Lucy, Hobi and Jimin have formed.

They all greet you back, enthusiastically.

“Soori sort of drifted. She was with Yoongi on the couch so…,” you say to Jungkook, feeling a bit awkward at not knowing how to approach him with so much people around.

It’s not that you regret coming. It’s just that you don’t really feel like you quite fit in the environment. There are many eyes on Soori, all wanting to give her undivided attention and play with her. So, it’s not like you can do your job and mingling feels slightly out of place considering that you, well, keep one hell of a secret. A secret you try not to make obvious. So, you’ve been avoiding Jungkook at all costs.

“Yeah, the little kids tend to tire her out quickly as she tries to keep up with them. Have you eaten? Are you hungry? Do you want something to drink?” You frown slightly at his words, hoping your eyes convey the words your mouth can’t.

“No. Thanks. I’m actually looking for her ducky. I can’t seem to find it and she’s been making the ducky face so,”

“Oh. Shit, yeah. I think I might’ve left it in the playroom this morning. We were playing videogames.”

“We?” Hobi snorts at your remark and you instantly regret it. “I’ll look for it. Where in her playroom?”

“Not hers. Mine. Here, I’ll come with.” He says and before you can say anything else he starts walking towards the inside of the house.

Once you make it to the long hallway, the same one that leads to his office, he turns to you – face laced with concern.

“Are you okay,” he asks.

“Yes. Sorry- I just- I’m bad at keeping secrets. I feel like my dumb face gives it away.”

He smiles at this, relief flooding his body. “It’s not dumb. And I’m sorry. Maybe it was a bit selfish of me to have you come… I just- wanted to see you.”

“No, no. I want to be here. I wanted to see you, too.” You sigh, leaning your back against the wall. He takes a step closer to you, expression unreadable – perhaps with something dancing in his eyes you’ve never seen before. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he mocks nonchalance.

“Jungkook,” your hand comes to push lightly at his tummy, “there’s like- everyone out there.”

“Why would they come here?” He takes another step forward.

“I don’t know? Bathroom?”

“There’s a bathroom in the pool house.”

“Oh?”

“Oh,” he says, finally closing the space around you and clashing his lips to yours in a soft, slow kiss.

You whimper against his mouth, not really expecting to be this close to him today. It’s healing, really, to be able to just be with him after having him so tentatively close to you the whole day yet so out of reach. You hear a nearing voice – Namjoon’s it sounds like.

“Jung-”

“Shh,” he tells you, grabbing your hands and walking backwards, opening the door behind him. He closes it, securing the lock.

You look around you – a huge room with blue LED lights illuminating it. A couple of arcade games lining the walls, a pool table and a huge black couch that sits in front of an even bigger TV.

“What is this,” you ask, eyes still scanning the room in awe.

“My playroom,” he states simply, pulling you to him by the hands and closing your lips around his once again.

You realize it, the moment you circle your arms around his neck, fingers getting lost in his dark locks as his hands find your waist, making their descend until they squeeze around your hips. You realize just how bold of a move it was to put the two of you in an empty room. Alone and unsupervised. Not even by the prying eyes of a baby.

Mistake, mistake. But what have we said about those?

He lets out a throaty moan against your mouth as you pull at his hair gently, hissing as your nails soothingly run over the spot. The feeling sends goosebumps down his skin and his hands travel down until they land on your ass. You push into him and he squeezes, hard. You moan when you feel him against your lower belly and marvel at how hard he feels through the thin fabric of his swimsuit. He pulls away some, forehead resting on top of yours as your ragged breaths mix together.

“Fuck,” he pants.

“We can just… kiss a little,” you whisper against his lips.

“Yeah. Yeah,” he ponders. “Slow…”

“Slow.” You repeat and before you can process the lie his lips are back on yours.

He walks forwards, arms around your waist as you walk backwards, letting him guide you towards the couch. His knees hit the back of the cushions and he sits, legs spreading and body melting into the pillows as he looks up at you with hooded eyes. He looks heavenly – red-bitten lips glistening with the trace of yours, ruffly hair and slightly flushed cheeks; the soft tint traveling down his neck all the way to his chest.

“C’mere,” he intwines his fingers with yours, pulling you to him until you’re straddling his lap.

“Hm, feels oddly-” a sigh escapes your lips as his mouth connects to a tender spot at the side of your neck, “familiar- fuck.”

And Jungkook knows he’s a goner. The moment his teeth scrape down the sensitive skin and you whimper and squirm in his hold, hips buckling against his, the way he dreamed of the last time he had you in this position. He knows this is where boundaries come to die.

“These dresses will be the death of me,” he says as his hands snake past the hem, kneading around the soft flesh of your ass.

You rut your hips against his, more firmly this time and you can feel him better now – almost fully hard, long and thick as you drag your clothed cunt over him, tiny little whimpers leaving your lips as your eyes shut at the way you tease your clit with every roll of your hips.

He feels it, too. And he can’t help but get high off of your pleasure, on the way your nails push against the soft flesh at the nape of his neck – the way your mouth parts slightly against his own, your hips picking up pace as he groans, hands on your ass as he aids your rhythm, alternating between rapid movements and deeper slow ones.

He’s fully hard now and he can feel the tension building up in his lower stomach, the way it caves in, making him shudder at the sharp pleasure that shoots through him as his cock throbs inside his pants. He tightens his grip around your hips, pulling upwards and away from him until they’re hovering over his. His head falls backwards, hand coming to run through his hair as he collects himself. “Wait- I’ll cum,” he pants.

“It’s okay,” you assure him.

“No. I want to- can I touch you?”

“Yes, please.”

Your voice is so lenient, so airy it sends Jungkook spiralling right into the very root of his lust.

Fuck slow.

His hands grip at the hem of your dress, bunching the fabric upwards until it rests against your tummy. Your hands replace his, holding onto your dress as his fingers run down the smooth of your legs, coming up to toy with the strings at one side of your bikini bottoms. His eyes divert from your lust filled ones all the way to his fingers as they leave feathery touches on your skin. He sees it then – a small butterfly tattoo that rests on your side, just below your hip at the curve of your ass. He groans, doubting he’s ever seen anything sexier in his life.

“Fuck- what is this, baby?”

The pet name sends your mind down a hazy spiral. “I- I wanted to be able to hide it.”

“It’s so sexy. You’re so sexy.”

He tugs at the string that holds your swimsuit in place, eyes widening slightly as the fabric falls apart on your skin, exposing your pussy to him. Your mouth parts, a silent moan breaking at your throat as his fingers come between your legs, digits rubbing at your clit. They travel downwards for a second before he collects your slick, rubbing it all over your little nub.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Is this for me, baby?” His question has your eyes snapping open, lazy gaze fixating on him as you nod and moan as his fingers pick up their pace.

“Y-yes. I’ve- been like this all day.” Your confession has him groaning as he brings your face to him, biting at your bottom lip.

“Yeah?” His fingers tease at your entrance, drawing tight circles against it. You nod hastily and when you do, they push all the way in – middle and ring finger sliding right in, hooking inside of you as he finds that spot that has your legs shaking, weak at the feeling as your hips come down to their original position. “Shit- you’re so fucking tight. Your pussy’s so fucking tiny, baby. Swallowing my fingers.”

“Jungkook- m-move, please,” you whimper and he complies, beginning his assault on your snug walls as he drags the long of his fingers in and out of you, hitting that spot repeatedly until he feels you get impossibly tighter around them.

Your moans get louder, sweeter, against his lips as his thumb draws tight circles around your clit. You hold onto him as the tell-tale signs of your orgasm begin to unfold above him. It’s intoxicating, all of you – the way your hips roll against his fingers, pressing on his cock. The way you whimper against his ear before your mouth finds his and you kiss him, deep. The way your thighs close around him, knees weak at your futile attempts to as his strong legs push yours further apart.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful- you gonna cum for me, baby?”

“Yes,” your voice is but a whisper, lips not parting from his. “I’m so- fuck. I’m so close.”

“Let go, baby. I got you.”

You cry out when you feel him press firmly against your g-spot, legs shaking as you cum around his fingers, cunt fluttering restlessly around them, powered by his thumb on your clit, stimulating you from all nerve endings. Jungkook can feel the way you gush all around his hand, not once doubting you’ve made a mess out of his swimsuit, too.

“Oh, fuck,” you say, completely fucked-out as you relax against his body, blissfully coming down from probably the strongest orgasm you’ve had, well, ever.

He brandishes your shoulders with little kisses as he removes his fingers from between your legs, bringing them all the way to his mouth before he sucks on them – eyes closing in pleasure. Before he can open them, your hand is closing around his clothed cock, tight grip as you stroke him. He moans, fingers slipping from his wet mouth.

“You don’t have to,” he says, hand coming to rest on top of yours.

“I want to. Please.”

That damn word coming from your pretty lips will see the end of him. He gives you a faint nod as his hand closes around yours, tightening your grip. But it’s not enough, for either of you. Your hips pull back some, and his body jerks as your bare cunt comes in contact with his balls through the thin material of his swimsuit. You roll your hips, pleased with his reaction. Your fingers hook on the waistband of his shorts and his hips raise slightly as you push them past his hips, just enough to free his cock. You nearly drool at the sight of him – cock springing up and away from the restraints, landing on his pelvis. He’s long and thick, a pretty set of veins running from base to tip where he leaks a tiny pearl of precum, arousal so evident as it twitches and he whimpers. Jungkook is in no position to get cocky, considering how painfully hard he is, but a lazy grin forms at his lips when he sees you gawking at the size of him, trying to wrap your head around it. Your tiny hand travels down his stomach, emitting a groan from him as your fingers wrap around his girth – the tip of your thumb and fingers barely able to meet as your fist closes around his cock.

Your head lowers a bit before your jaw twitches, collecting your build-up saliva before you let a string of spit fall from your mouth all the way to the tip of his cock. Jungkook’s eyes roll at the mere sight, a feral moan leaving his lips.

“Fuck, ___. Yeah- fuck. Just like that.” He praises as your palm closes around his tip, thumb toying with his slit as you collect the precum that builds up at your ministrations.

Your touch is soft but firm, twisting at the upstroke, pace picking up as you feel him pulse around you. You bring your other hand down and close it around his base, gripping tightly as your other hand works his shaft and squeezes at his tip. He begins to lose control under you, fingers pressing on the soft flesh of your thighs and hips thrusting up at the rhythm of your merciless grip around his cock. He doesn’t think he’ll last much longer, especially when you start rutting your pussy mindlessly over his balls that feel heavy at the wake of his impending release.

“Koo,” you’ve never called him that and it does things to him, cock fighting with his heart to see who’ll explode first. “Cum for me, please. I wanna make you feel good,” you plead and it’s that innocence in your voice that threatens to tip him over the edge.

“It feels so good, baby. So fucking good- ffuck. There- don’t stop,” he begs as your thumb presses against his frenulum and your other hand strokes his shaft, tight hold on it as you twist your wrist.

You whine, exceptionally loud and Jungkook’s eyes snap open, met with the sight of your face contorting in pleasure as you bite your lip, your hands on his cock never faltering as the friction of your clit dragging against his balls rips another orgasm out of you. He thinks he’s about to pass out as he feels your pussy flutter as you press down on him.

“F-fuck. Fuck, that’s so hot. You’re gonna make me cum,” his hands fly to your hips, moving them against him even as you squirm in sensitivity.

“Yes, please- cum for me.” You sound delirious and that does it for him.

His head rolls back, leaning against the sofa as a feral groan rips from his chest – throaty and dreamy and you think you can cum again just by the way he sounds and looks as he falls apart under you. Face contorting in pleasure as he pulls his lip in-between his teeth, biting hard as his cock jerks in your hold and he spills all over your hands – so much cum some even lands on his tummy. His abs tense and finally release once he begins to come down.

“Holy fuck,” his voice shakes, hands gently coming down and removing yours from around his cock as he cringes with the over-sensitivity.

“That was…,” you start.

He sighs, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “So good.”

You hum in response, face nuzzling against his touch. “I think we should head back. No one is going to believe it was this hard to find a rubber ducky.” You say, looking down at his softening cock.

“Don’t make me laugh just yet, I think I just blacked out.”

You hold back a chuckle, lips gently pressing against his as his hand plays with your hair.

“I’ll go clean up first. I’ll tell them you got a work call or something.”

He only nods, shooting you a lazy smile before you come to a standing position – steps faltering a bit as you regain your balance.

Jungkook’s head is still floating in cloud nine and he lets himself enjoy it for a minute until he can process just how good that was and how it’s about to make slow most likely, probably – impossible.

~

He walks into the living room, face glued to his phone as he scrolls aimlessly through it.

Yoongi lays on the couch with Soori nuzzled against his side as she suckles on her bottle.

“Hi,” he says when he sees Jungkook.

“Hey, man.” He responds casually.

“You look like you just fucked your nanny,” his voice has its usual monotone ring to it and Jungkook eyes widen at his blunt words.

“Yo. Language.” He scolds, pointing at Soori.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He sits next to Soori, covering her ears, “I did not fuck ___.”

Yoongi scoffs, diverting his eyes back to the tv. “Really now? Are you gonna hit me with another she just straddled my lap?”

Jungkook stays silent.

Thankful his honesty back then landed him into this white lie so easily.

~

HI. if u made it this far – i hope u enjoyed!! this was my first time explicitly squeezing my sexy juices out and I ENJOYED THAT A LITTLE TOO MUCH. i never want to leave the countryside. i am, officially, becoming a country girl. i truly hope u enjoyed. let me know what you thought!! i love talking to u guys, but u already know that <333 i’m sending loads of love!!!! xxxxx

~

★taglist★

@roro-in-utopia @yiyi4657 @littlrmills14-blog @namjooningelsewhere @drownforryou @iwanttohitmyself @finelinememories @yukiehyukie @shatzkrinslinzki @bts-fic-recs-mess @kokoandkookie @subtlepjiminie @girl-meetsevil @kookiesbreaky @di0rgguk @bloopkook @babyrosieareroses @kookiecrumb @casspirit0705 @eclectictacozinewobbler @tickledpink55 @rjsmochii @dimcorner @miniiimee @vintageroses10 @amyniu @tessxblxckthorn @emotionaltrashcansblog @fangirl125reader @laurynne5 @thickgrinch @dianaxnyc

Summer Solstice (M)

- pairing: jungkook x reader (f) ft. a tiny bit of Tae

- genre: god!jungkook / mythology au + smut

- word count: 6k

- summary: Down on your luck and desperate for a successful harvest, you pray to the gods. You figure no one in heaven was listening to your prayers when nothing happens immediately. But one fateful night, your prayers are answered. Are you willing to pay the price? The sacrifice might not be what you were expecting….

- warnings: explicit language (!!), mentions of suicide (brief!), smut: body worship themes, oral (m/f receiving), 69ing, mouth fucking, choking, dirty talk, name calling, hair pulling, over stimulation, squirting, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE U TAP IT), creampie, BIG DICK!JK, purity corruption kink( like if u squint), degradation, rude/arrogant jungkook …think that’s it…

- disclaimer: I have legit never written for tumblr before…. kinda nervous 😳👉👈. This is my first writing so please please please be courteous and kind! i’m sensitive 🥺. ALSO i’m not a farmer so sorry if i have legit no clue how agriculture works lmao. But sum about these concept photos just had me feeling sum typa way you know ?? Also, i’m going to try to be more active on this account and start a masterlist! Please make sure to send me HELPFUL criticism or just pop in to say hi! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as i did writing it. Thanks 🥰

- Jay ~ 5/5/2020

———————————————————-

To say time had NOT been kind to you would be a massive understatement.

Not only had your village been facing an impending famine for the past several months, but now your own family’s crops had begun to wither under the brutal sun. You thought things couldn’t get worse.

Oh, how wrong you were.

Keep reading

The poster is giving me Star Wars and Avengers vibe. Is it going to be a Sci-fi movie or what? Can't wait for the MV 🤩🤩

Commitment

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

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

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook hadn’t come home last night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give the lady whatever she’d like.”

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

“Does that include you?”

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

“Sorry. I’m no longer on the menu.”

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

“I’ll take a rum and coke.”

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

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

“Thanks for the help.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

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

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

“I’m off duty tonight.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me-“

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

“Get in.”

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

A modern day Narcissus with all the power of Zeus.

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

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

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re such a good girl for me.”

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

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

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

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

You weren’t like this. You were a detective. A woman who didn’t consider being fingered in the backseat of a cab a good time. Your common sense was raging at you to pull away from his kiss. To pull on his wrist and remove his fingers from between your legs, but the feral part of you told common sense to fuck off.

A secret part of you loved the way he unraveled you in that backseat. His tongue diving between your lips to caress across yours. The kiss at first was nothing but intensity: fierce and no doubt leaving your lips swollen. But as Jungkook continued to bring you close and closer to your orgasm it began to change. His lips still refused to let yours go. Your moans and gasps were forced to be pressed against his mouth as you panted for air. The kiss grew into its own sensual being. No longer was it fast and brutal. His tongue now moved languidly over yours, as if tasting every inch of you he could find.

You no longer cared that the cabbie was probably watching. Well aware that Jungkook’s fingers changed tactics and were now curving up into your g-spot. Your hands were frantically trying to remove his clothes; desperate to get home so you could have him inside you. You didn’t have to pull away from Jungkook’s lips to know he was smiling.

He couldn’t hold you to him any longer when the pleasure spread into your belly and blossomed in a burst of stars. You came for him - moaning prayers of ‘oh fuck,” - and head bumping against the window. You came while Jungkook continued to work your orgasm until your legs quivered uncontrollably. His pupils blown out with lust while he watched you come undone at his touch.

You couldn’t remember getting out of the cab at his apartment. You could only remember once you were inside, bodies were colliding against the wall of the hallway in a frenzy to remove clothes. Something broke on your ascent to the bedroom and you almost tripped trying to take off your heels.

All you did remember was the feeling of Jungkook on top of you. The tip of his cock pressing against your opening before he fully sheathed himself inside you. Your pussy struggling to accommodate his length and the sweet pain of his cock stretching you, working your cunt to take every last inch of him. Jungkook fucked you hard enough you felt him in your crevice. Your body trembling as pain and pleasure meddled together until it was sending you over the brink. Even when you got on top, hips working him with each thrust, Jungkook still took control. His hands on your waist going at the pace he wanted, and it was always too deep - too much - and left you screaming out his name in worship.

When you woke up you weren’t surprised by the massive headache you’d obtained from drinking half the bar. Jungkook silently laying beside you, deep in sleep, had been a huge surprise.You weren’t good at the whole next morning, ‘where do we go from here?’ sort of thing.

You were steeling yourself for the awkward moments when he woke up. For when you would tell him it was a one time thing and no relationship was going to happen. Ever. Of course, it wasn’t what happened at all. The moment Jungkook woke up his, “Good morning,” came in the form of a grunt. His body rolling you over and pushing himself inside.

You weren’t sure how a relationship happened. At first, you pretended it was strictly for the sex. A way to blow off steam from long work hours and the horrors of finding the Devils’ leftovers. But somehow his staying over only until morning turned into staying for breakfast. It traveled from breakfast in the house to breakfast at diners and dinners at restaurants. Eventually, Jungkook stopped leaving all together from your apartment, because it was now one you shared.

There were times you tried to deny that you could afford to fall in love, especially with him. While you were sure over the course of months you’d told him small and big things about yourself, Jungkook remained a mystery. The moments when he told you about his day or himself were rare and raw. As if he were afraid to come apart at the seams of the man he’d built only to be seen as weak.

Glancing over at Jungkook’s empty side of the bed, you tried to keep the dread from growing. You tried to shove it down as you climbed inside the elevator, your fingers pressing for the lobby. Jungkook never told you exactly what he did for a living. You just knew it kept him up at odd hours and sometimes - rarely - he would be kept out at night.

You weren’t going to allow yourself to be consumed with worry that he wasn’t home. Your Chief called with big news and with any luck, it was one of your leads that led to this arrest. All the worry that began to brew inside you quickly dissipated and excitement took its place.

Two years. Two long - nightmarish - years and finally you had something tangible. You had one of the bastards who helped terrorize this city and every resident inside it. The thought you could finally get some reasoning for the carnage Namjoon and his men had caused made you practically giddy.

The drive down to the station was done in a daze. You were positive no red lights were run, but you couldn’t say with certainty you didn’t speed. You dashed up to the back door of the precinct and squeezed past an officer who was on his way out.

He mumbled a hello, but you couldn’t respond. Your mind was focused on reaching the third floor where the man was being held. Your legs quickly found the staircase and took each one two at a time. Your body jolted forward as you came to the third-floor landing, and you broke into a jog.

The Chief was standing near the end of the corridor. His hands crossed with a Manila folder with everything that the department was able to gather on whoever was inside. When he caught sight of you, he pushed himself off of the wall taking lumbering steps in your direction. A hand already extending out the file for you to grab from him the minute you were within arm's reach.

“Finally. I thought with something like this you would’ve gotten here faster.”

“Hello to you too, Chief,” you snapped back. You weren’t too worried about him. Your attention was on the folder now in your hands. Your thumb running along the edge to help flip it open. “Can you debrief me on what we know for now?”

His large body made it hard to walk side-by-side in the hallway, forcing you to walk a little behind him.

“It’s all there in front of you: read it,” he huffed.

“It’s difficult to walk and read at the same time. Stop being an ass and just tell me.”

“Fine. We caught him in the act so to speak. He’d just finished paying a jeweler who we suspected was helping launder diamonds for Namjoon out of the country. Not sure exactly what happened, but from what we gathered at the scene, whatever's been going on between Namjoon and the jeweler must have been one hell of a disagreement.” The two of you stopped in front of the interrogation room at the very end of the hall. Your body was tingling with the desire to go inside. “When we showed up the jeweler and his works were already dead, and he was leaving with the suitcase through the back door. Surprised the hair out of the newbie when he met him at the door.”

The big man let out a chuckle that sounded more like a cough: throaty and from the chest. Chief was really in a good mood, you noticed.

“You say he, sir. We got a name?”

“Sure, as fuck do: Jeon Jungkook. Namjoon’s enforcer and right-hand man.”

You were vaguely aware that his mouth was still moving. He was talking, making words, and yet you heard none of it. The sickening feeling you felt earlier looking at the empty side of his bed came back. This time you physically had to fight your body from being sick. The urge to release the late dinner you had before bed was creeping dangerously close to the surface.

You were struggling to focus on his frame. Barely able to register the Chief was looking at you with worry. His lips formed words you were sure asking if you were okay but you waved him off. With the file still in your hand, you placed your hands on your hips. The movement forcing your dark trench coat to flare out around you like a cap.

In. Out. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

He was talking to you still; throwing questions at you on repeat and the only questions you wanted answers too lied within the room to your right. You didn’t give him warning that you were leaving. You just walked up to the interrogation room door, your hand reaching out for the handle.

Whether you were ready for what greeted you on the other side of the door - you weren’t sure. You made a silent prayer to anyone listening for it not to be him on the other side of the door. You would’ve given anything for it to be anyone else. Anything.

With a shaky hand you turned the knob of the door and stepped inside.

Your back was against the headboard of the bed. All the pillows that had been lost to the floor during sex were now back. Each one hugging to your shape as Jungkook tried to invade the pillow cocoon you’d made by resting his head in your lap.

He’d let out another frustrated sigh and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face. Jungkook hated your pillow obsession.

“I swear, I come home only to find another pillow added to the bed.”

“Or, hear me out, you just think you see another one.”

“I’ve actually started counting,” he admitted. His eyes edged up to look up at you through his lashes. Your fingers that’d been playing in his sweaty hair came to a halt. Just so you could do your best to hold his stare - looking as innocent as possible. “Today when I left the house we had ten pillows and now we have eleven. How does that happen?”

“Magic.”

You smiled brightly down at him before placing a kiss down on his forehead. You went to move back up when Jungkook stopped you. His body lifting up from your lap to meet you halfway to press his lips to yours. It was a chaste kiss. Chaste compared to how you usually kissed and as brief as it was your body reacted to him instantly.

You’d learned early on in your relationship it didn’t matter if you were having a bad day. If you were angry at the world, him, or frustrated with work. Jungkook was able to combat your sadness with just his presence alone. In moments where he smiled so big it crinkled his nose and the times you’d find him dancing shirtless in the kitchen while making breakfast. Even through the soft moments you shared, Jungkook chose to remain an enigma.

Jungkook released his hold on your lips to fall back into your lap. He turned until a cheek rested on your thigh giving him a good enough view to look out your bedroom window. The dying light of the day painting the window seal in hazy oranges and reds.

“This feels like magic.”

He spoke softly into the soft skin of your thigh. Jungkook brought a lazy hand to your calf and began to lightly move his fingers up and down. Your face became hot and you weren’t sure why you were trying to hide it when he wasn’t even looking. He was too busy, lost in the darkness of his own thoughts to know you were watching him and the way the sunset lit up every inch of his features. You traced the flowers on his sleeve in an attempt to calm the frenzy of your heart.

“What flower is this?”

The minute your words left your lips, you wished you could take them back. Jungkook turned away from the window to briefly glance at his arm. Already knowing exactly what flower you meant.

“It’s my birth flower. A tiger flower.”

“It’s a beautiful flower.”

“It is, but I didn’t get it for that. I got it for its meaning.”

You waited for him to continue. The room swelled with silence as you resumed running your fingers through his hair, but Jungkook’s attention was turned back towards the window.

“What’s it mean?”

He didn’t respond right away. The only way you knew he heard you was the soft tilt of his head. His eyes glancing at you from the side. You weren’t trying to pressure him. You just wanted him to know you were willing to wait and listen.

“It means, ‘Love me.’”

Each word hit you in the chest making you think, for just a moment, your heart was breaking. Jungkook’s voice told you more than he probably meant too.

Your fingers completely stopped their movement through his hair and moved down to take hold of his chin. Gently, you tilted his head up by his chin and waited for his eyes to meet yours before you spoke.

“If it counts for anything, I love you, Jungkook.”

Stepping inside the room you were greeted with the immediate sight of him. He hadn’t turned to look at you yet. His hands held together on the cool steel table. His wrists bound with cuffs that were attached to the metal ring at the edge closest to him.

He was dressed neatly in all black. From his long jacket that sat draped along the back of his chair to the high turtleneck that decorated his torso. In the breakdown of what had been taken in for evidence, you noticed they’d listed black leather gloves that he was currently missing.

You found your bearings and finally took that final step forward. Your feet carrying you around the table to the only chair available inside the room. It was then that Jungkook’s eyes flicked through the slights in his hair and you were finally able to see the light splatter of blood that was speckled across his cheek.

That was when it hit home that this was real. This moment, inside this very room, where your axis was tipping and your world was violently shifting. He didn’t have the decency to look away; to be ashamed.

No. A part of you always knew that the darkness that you assumed haunted Jungkook wasn’t out of sadness. An inkling of something much more sinister lurked underneath his surface, but you overlooked it. Pretended it wasn’t there all because you broke your own rules. You didn’t keep your guard up and if you had, Jungkook had silently removed every wall you’d been able to build.

Jungkook acknowledged your presence with a smirk and all that anguish you felt at his betrayal was instantly replaced with rage.

“There’s my good girl.”

“Don’t call me that.”

You hated the way he used your pet name. You hated it more with the way your body betrayed you with your core aching to be touched. Jungkook usually called you that when he had your legs spread out on your kitchen counter; eating your pussy for breakfast. Or bent over the couch with him buried to the hilt inside you, pounding at a brutal pace, with a belt around your throat and his hand controlling the pressure.

Jungkook’s response at your request was a sickening chuckle. You wanted to vault over the table between you. Grab a hold of him and shake him, scream in his face, demanding why? What was the purpose of all those months? Did he know who you were that night at the bar? Was this nothing but a game to him?

The smug look on his face made you want to go feral. The betrayal and hurt were warring inside your gut fighting for dominance. Each one knocking the air from your lungs like a punch. Jungkook leaned forward placing his elbows on the table and used them to get to the middle. His eyes were wild as he searched your face. No doubt reading the split second it took for you to hide the emotions you felt.

“Why? Do you not want them to know that we’ve been fucking? How I came home to you almost every night after I committed crimes you could never catch me for.”

And there it was. The truth you were dreading.

How many times had he come home to the bed you shared after he murdered someone? After threatening someone’s life or burning down a business? Came home to help you make dinner and he’d just taken laundered money or helped run one of Namjoon’s brothels.

You dropped his folder with a thud on the table. You had to fold your arms across your middle just so you didn’t actually reach over the table and strangle him. He would love that. See you lose control just to prove his point.

“You seem to be focusing on the wrong things, Jungkook. You seem a bit bitter that you got caught.”

The eerie smile dropped off his face as he snarled, “They got lucky.”

“Or you were just cocky,” you shot back. “And that cockiness cost you.”

“I wouldn’t be talking about cock-y anything right now, sweetheart.”

“How about we cut the shit and get straight to it, hmm? You aren’t going anywhere, Jungkook. You’ve been apprehended and you will never, ever, see the light of day again.”

The smug smile returned as his head cocked to the side. Clearly, you were more amusing than anything else to him.

“You’re soooo angry that I was under your nose this whole time. You had suspicions, but you chose to ignore them.”

You tried to swallow past your heart that was now clamoring in your throat. The scream that had been building was threatening to break free. You were struggling to remain emotionless. From the look on Jungkook’s face, you were failing miserably. You knew what he was going to say and you didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want something you’d told him in the moment to be used against you like the fool you felt you were.

“We both know why you ignored them, y/n. It’s because you lo-“

“If you finish that sentence I promise you I’ll punch your teeth down your throat.”

His reply came in the form of a wide toothy grin that lit his entire face up. The idea excited him and made him look psychotically attractive with the dried blood on his cheeks.

“You won’t get the chance even if I did.”

“What are you talking about?” You snapped.

He just answered you with that wicked smile. You were getting tired of the games. Your thoughts working on how to get past all the personal to the real matter at hand. You were considering how to work around it when the alarms in the room began to go off.

The alarm was shrill and pulsing. The sound hammered over and over inside your skull until you were sure it was going to explode. You glanced back at the two-way mirror and then to the door. You expected at any minute for someone to come barreling in to ask about what Jungkook said or to tell you the alarm was a false alarm. You were willing to bet it was until you started hearing shouting further down the hall. The sounds of running feet and jingling keys crept through the door.

You wanted to call and ask what was going on, but you hadn’t grabbed a radio and when the shouting got louder you found yourself back on your feet.

“Did you really think Namjoon and the other Devils’ wouldn’t come for me?”

Jungkook spoke to you like he was scolding a child. Your mouth snapped open, ready to retaliate, when the sound of an explosion sounded all around you. The alarms in the building were blaring like crazy. The next explosion sounded in the building and your arms shot up protectively to cover your head and neck.

The sounds of screams were now pounding in your ears. Matching the scrambling boots and shouts to find cover. You dropped your arms down from your head and looked around. Outside was pure chaos, but nothing had touched inside the interrogation room yet. Which only meant one thing.

“They don’t know which room you’re in.”

Your words were soft. Spoken mostly as a verbal thought. The realization of it had you scrambling out of your chair. Your hands digging for the cuff keys Chief had dropped inside your pocket before you entered.

You had resolved to never get this close to him again. You wanted to pretend that being so near would cause your skin to crawl, but it was too soon. Everything is still fresh and open. Jungkook may have betrayed you in more ways than your brain could possibly fathom at this point. But the only thing your body felt, being this close to him, was desire.

“What are you doing?”

Jungkook was staring up at you with amusement. His gaze set on your face and no doubt finding the humor in the way your jaw clenched at having to press this close up against him.

“If they don’t know what room that means I have a chance to take you somewhere else. Somewhere safe.”

“You’re freeing me?” One eyebrow curled up towards his hairline. The amusement was still heavy in his tone, but underneath was he…hopeful?

A snort of laughter was your only reply as you continued to work on the chain that held his cuffs in place.

“No, Jungkook, I'm not freeing you. I’m making sure you end up where you belong.”

“And where is that, exactly?” He snapped.

The amusement had fallen from him and was replaced with the look of someone deadly. Someone you didn’t know. The change was swift and almost had you taking a step back from him. This was the real Jungkook. The enforcer, Chief called him. Looking at him you couldn’t agree with a more fitting title for the fierce man that looked up at you.

“In prison.”

You weren’t sure how you found the courage to reply or to meet the fury in his eyes. The second your words registered you watched a spark ignite in his eyes and a snarl bare his teeth. This time your body did give a jolt in surprise. You went to move back from him, but Jungkook’s hands were on your arms gripping you right. Refusing to let go.

“No. I belong with you and you belong with me.”

You were shaking your head struggling to free yourself from having to hear him. His words cut deep and dug into your soul. How stupid of him to not realize it didn’t matter how you felt. How he felt. You knew who he was now and nothing could change that. Nothing should be able to change that.

“No,” you gasped.

You didn’t know when you started crying. All you knew was that your eyes were stinging with unshed tears. As much as you fought to hold them in, you knew it was just a matter of time before you lost.

“Yes! You know it as much as I do. All these months we’ve been together. Deep down, in your gut, you knew all along who I was.”

“That’s impossible! I’m not fuckin psychic!”

“No. You’re a detective and a good one at that. You’re not dumb, y/n.” You were shaking your head vigorously like it would be enough to drown out every word he spoke. The grip on your arms felt constricting and yet, you didn’t pull away. “We belong together. You know it.”

The rage at his words, or yourself for allowing him to talk and for you to listen, was building up. You were going to scream. It felt like you were going to open your mouth to do so when another explosion went off.

This one was closer than the others. Close enough that it shattered the glass off the two-way mirror and sent it flying like shrapnel into the room. You were still stunned by the explosion, your body stuck in shock, but Jungkook was already moving.

A hand reached out to grab the edge of the interrogation table. He flipped it over with ease and grabbed you just as another explosion sounded. He didn’t grab you quick enough. You didn’t have to touch your head right away to know it was bleeding. You’d felt the debris of something - a chunk of concrete, plywood, or glass - hit the backside of your head. Your vision was now doubled and cloudy. The words being said around you sounded like they were speaking through cotton balls.

Vaguely, you became aware that there were other men in the room now. All of them dressed in black with decorated hockey masks that sat on top of ski masks. One of them was bending down, bolt cutters in his hands, and made quick work of Jungkook’s cuffs just as Namjoon entered the room.

He walked through the hole the explosion created, framed by billowing smoke and flames. Namjoon appeared completely untouched. Exactly like the Devil himself.

You tried to go for your side arm but someone stopped you. A boot kicking you back that was met with a savage snarl as Jungkook launched himself at your attacker. The darkness around your vision was winning. No matter what you told yourself, you weren’t going to be able to fight passing out. Your eyes fluttered over to the sight of Jungkook. His fist had wrapped his handcuffs around his knuckles and was smashing repeatedly into the mask of the man who’d kicked you.

“That’s enough, Jungkook.” Namjoon’s baritone was rich and deep. It didn’t surprise you that it went with one of the most notorious mob king’s that ever resided in this city. “We need to leave. Now. We’ll talk about your lack of tact when we get home.”

“I’m not leaving without her.”

Namjoon turned to him. His eyes followed as Jungkook threw down the bloodstained cuffs and moved towards you. You wanted to say something - tried to say something - but all that came out was mumble words and a whimper.

“You know you can’t bring her, Jungkook.”

“I’ll say this one more time, Joon. I’m not leaving here. Not without her.”

Irritation rippled across Namjoon’s features and his jaw clenched tight. You could tell he was thinking with his eyes roaming down to look you over. Finally noticing the state that you were in. His tongue rolled around in his cheek before he looked back at Jungkook. His frustration only made his forehead crease further.

“Fuck it. Hurry up and grab her.”

Jungkook didn’t even wait for Namjoon to finish his sentence. He pushed the tossed over table farther away making it easier for him to move down and scoop you up into his arms. The sudden movement caused your world to spin and it wouldn’t stop. Squinting your eyes you nestled your forehead against his shoulder trying to make your head stop spinning. It wasn’t working.

A whimper escaped you as Jungkook started moving forward. The crumbling department was only something you were able to imagine as you refused to look. No matter how hard you shut your eyes, however, it wouldn’t stop the sounds of men yelling for backup and others in pain. The pops of bullets leaving the chambers and the clamoring of feet to escape.

“I’ve got you, my love,” Jungkook hummed against your cheek. “I’ve always got you.”

If you were stronger you would’ve clamored out of his arms and moved away. You would spit curses at him and inform him that he was delusional. You would never be his any longer, but before the blackness overtook you a tiny voice reminded you that you were a liar.

You would always be his.

utopic desire I — jjk

Plot: Under an elist system of Vampires, Jungkook is torn between his old values and the lowest ranked Vampire he begins to fall for.

Pairing(s): Vampire!Jungkook x Vampire!OC

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Series

Genre: Supernatural/Vampires | Angst/Fluff/Smut

Tags & Warnings: discrimination, explicit smut, angst, coarse language.

Authors Note: this is a repost after my break since I’m not really going to convert this one to original fiction. So enjoy to those who missed it! I’m doing it in parts cause posting big posts on Tumblr sucks. 

“Glasses, five o’clock.” Yoongi muttered mostly under his breath but enough for the group to hear before taking a small sip of his reddened whiskey.

Belle felt a light rumble in her belly at his words, turning her head a little to see the male sitting quietly at the bar counter. Blue sweater with some light wash jeans, thin rimmed glasses and slightly long messy locks hovering over his temples. The tiny pout on his bottom lip only added to what an adorable specimen he was. “Jeon?” She smirked.

Yoongi shrugged mimicking the little curl on her lips as his eyes flickered to the side to get another look of him. “Hangs around with the pure bloods a lot. Must be a favourite source.”

Jungkook was the quietest whenever Belle noticed him in the pure blood crowds and with the way he held himself, it didn’t seem like he was much of a power in the group. One of the vampires who she knew was called Vira always clung to him which she could only assume meant he must have been her human.

“Could be fun annoying the shit out of Vira.” Belle mused.

“Or dangerous.” Jimin spoke up, finger tracing the brim of his glass with the drink barely sipped on. “Pure bloods don’t like us meddling.”

“They don’t like it when I meddle.” She corrected.

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Ahh, what can I say...all of your stories are sooo dear to me. I love all of them too much. But these two are the most favorite. I really really love them and always reread them. Thank you so much for the amazing stories 💜💜

Favorite Jungkook Fic 🐰

This is the list for Series (some are ongoing) and Two shots

Series || Two shots

✩ Worst of You @oureuphoria | Angst, Fluff (Jungkook Police Officer au. Jungkook has commitment issue) <Complete>

✩ @ahundredtimesover

Inevitable | Angst, Fluff, Smut (Jungkook sports au. Dad Jungkook) <Complete>

Empty Space | Angst, Smut, Fluff (Two Shots. Police Officer Jungkook. Ex fwbs) <Complete>

✩ Re: Untitled @to-star-lake | Angst, Smut, Fluff (Husband Jungkook. Marriage au. It has a big twist and that is mind-blowing) <Complete>

✩ His Name @jimlingss | Angst (Jungkook has DID. OC is a psychologist. It is really sad 😭) <Complete>

✩ Take My Hands Now @manggojooz | Angst, Fluff (Jungkook College /Uni au. OC has a special power of feeling others' pain) <Complete>

✩ Angel's Trumpet @hansolmates | Fluff, Angst, Slight Smut (Jungkook idol au. Kind of fantasy au) <Complete>

✩ Stoic and Redemption @blue-jade | Angst, Smut (Two shots. Husband Jungkook. Infidelity au. Parents au in the second story) <Complete>

✩ @flowerwrites06

Utopic Desire | Angst, Smut (Jungkook vampire au) <Complete>

Bow to You | Angst, Smut yet (Royalty au. Infidelity au. King Jungkook Queen OC) <Ongoing>

✩ To Build A Home @soft4gguk | Fluff, Smut, Angst (Single dad Jungkook. Nanny OC) <Ongoing>

✩ Evolution of A Lover's Heart @jeonstudios | Angst, Fluff (Jungkook College /Uni au. Fuckboy Jungkook but he is a good person now after an incident. But he is hurt 😭) <Ongoing>

✩ An Ode to a Broken Heart @smoochkooks | Angst, Slight Smut yet (Drabble series. Unrequited love. Best friend au) <Ongoing>

✩ Burning Love @bangtanficsforyou | Angst yet (Only prologue has come. Jungkook is OC's ex) <Ongoing>

✩ Candy Cane Ache @monvante | Angst, Fluff yet (The Proposal au. Journalist Jungkook) <Ongoing>

That was intense and sharp. And the twist... Ahhh *chef's kiss*

Stressed and Pressed | JJK

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader

Rating: 18+ / Mature / Explicit

Synopsis: The job search is already frustrating enough. Preparing for the interviews. Anxiously waiting for callbacks. You really don’t need this smartass competing for the same job and pressing your buttons. Perhaps the most frustrating thing, though, is that you can’t stop imagining what it would be like to have him pressing other kinds of buttons instead… 

Word Count: 4.9k

Genres, Content Warnings, & Themes: office worker!au, strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, graphic language, smut (public sex, fingering [female receiving])

Author’s Note: For dear Roomie’s / @mochilatae​​’s ask! Sorry this is so late. Furthering the dom!JK agenda. Hope you enjoy!

Permanent Taglist: @purpleheartsfortae​​ @btseditsworld​​ @greezenini​​ @missbickerbocker​​ @dearbambideer​​ @helenazbmrskai​​ @morti13​​ @skyys-universe​​ @somewhereofftheglobe​​ @imaginativedreams​​ @dreamamubarak​​ @m-yg93​​

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ancient history ➔ jeon jungkook

actor!jungkook x actress!reader angst + smut + fluff + exes to lovers + actor!au warnings: jk is lowkey an asshole + reader is PETTY + break up mention (they are exes so like) + unprotected sex (y’all pls wrap it b4 u tap it) + possession kink + size kink + impreg kink (?) + mention of when zayn left one direction :( wc: 12.8k

➔ there is no way to deny that you and Jungkook have chemistry. the two of you used to be a couple, after all. what happens when after a not-so-amicable breakup the two of you are cast as opposite leads of a movie?

based on ancient history by set it off!!

a/n: ah yes, i wrote this a while back but this is still one of my fave fics ever and one of my fave songs ever too tbh. hope y’all enjoy this one too!! also you might be like omg ive seen this before?? yes, its a repost from my old blog moononthejoon :D AND YES, the tw for when zayn left 1d is vERY MUCH NEEDED

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The busy city keeps forgetting about me and my loneliness. My yearning for a company, for someone to listen to me always intensifies whenever the Autumn arrives.