paradise of dreams *

“Cause I’m a hungry man” he tilted his head down and wiggled his brows at you. You felt funny for a second, but remembered he’s just a goofy guy and shrugged it off, shaking your head and finishing your coffee.

“You eat too little” he shrugged, and that made you even more confused, you ate just fine!

“You eat too much muscle boy” you stepped down the stool, waiting for a smart comeback from him. But after not hearing anything from him, and after getting your mug in the sink, you turned to check he didn’t magically disappear.

But you were met with a neutral face, his hand still with his toast mid way to his mouth, and his eyes locked in your ass. Was he being serious right now?

“Hey!” You raised your voice at him, his eyes suddenly on your face as he shook your head.

“Let me clean that“ he mumbled, shakings his head rapidly and now, only staring at the floor. Walking from his seat to the sink with his plates in hand.

You chuckled at that, convincing yourself you have imagined it before your brain went places it shouldn't go to.

You looked at him for a second, his strong arms lathering the plates like they had insulted him. You turned, watching for something to do, anything. Since the book incident you've been a lot more wary on what you do and you don't.

He aplogized about what he said but, it was true after all. You didn't want to step wrong in any way. The loud ring of the doorbell made you turn, your eyes danced from the door and then him

“You can open it you know” He laughed, watching your vigilant form. “It doesn't bite”

You nodded as you walked to the door, waiting for some of his friends to somehow pass by his house and decide they would spend some time. But the sight that welcomed you made you think your words.

“Jeon Jeongguk?” The guy asked, a small stack of papers on his hands and an incredibly big box behind.

“Um.. yes?” You nodded slowly, opening the door a bit more as the guy smiled and nodded.

“Let's go guys” He said to his back and entered in the apartment like he lived there. A big box and two more men carrying said item. Walking straight to the living room.

“Um..” You looked around the scene confused, your brows furrowed slightly, turning to ask Jungkook if he ordered something. His body was much closer to you than you expected. He may had been watching from behind you how they moved the box in.

“Shit- you scared me” You whispered at him, getting out of his way - and of the men - while he laughed at you, drying his hands with the soft rag.

“You're too jumpy” He shrugged his shoulders, and leaving the rag onto the counter, made his way to the men that were rapidly disassembling the big box.

He seemed to enter in an entertaining conversation with him, even giving a hug to the guy who asked for his name on the door.

You watched from behind, sat at the stool, entertained as they all talked and started assembling whatever Jungkook ordered to his house. He kept looking back at you, and you pretended you didn't notice. Your eyes now following the big box, and how they lifted a gigantic slick black TV from there.

Your eyes went big at the sudden luxury in front of you, the almost paper thing TV being put up on the empty wall infront of the sofa, now the small shelves that decorated the wall were in each side of the TV.

“What do you think?” Jungkook suddenly appeared at your side, his normally confident stare now a bit more nervous than usual, biting his lower lip, playing with the piercing that decorated his plush lips.

“Me?” You asked confused, pointing at yourself as you looked around, the guys still screwing the TV to the wall.

“Yeah, you were right. Is kind of boring in here. And since we don't know how much we're stUCk together here, I just wanted to make this apartment a bit more entertaining” He shrugged, like it was nothing. Like the most futuristic TV you have ever seen now hanging on his wall was nothing. Like it costed him nothing.

You stared at him, like really stared at him. Your eyes not moving from his, and not believing the words that he just spoke.

He bought the TV for you? Really?

“Are you crazy?” The volume of your voice went up, you didn't want it to sound like you were mad, and it kinda did. You were just really confused, really lost. You probably would have to work a year straight to be able to save up for this.

“You don't like it?” He frowned, looking back at the TV to see it again. “I mean, it's a little too thin but im sure it'll work incredible, like the pixels are super good and-” His voice cut off. A sudden hit on his chest and two arms encricling his neck made him look down at you instantly. He let out a sigh of relief. He actually thought you would be mad. Throw a tantrum right here in front of these guys.

“You're crazy” You shook your head, still hugging him. And eventually, his arms went around you too, too scared to touch where he was not allowed to, so he just stuck to hug your back.

“And fucking rich what the fuck” You stated, separating from him to look again at the big black screen, the workers now cleaning up everything to eventually get out.

“Just part of the job” He smuggly said, shrugging once again as he saw you greeting a bye to the workers, and running to the remote on the coffee table. Turning the TV right on, the colorful screen captivating your eyes. He could see the motion reflecting on your face, the change of colors reflecting off of your eyes as you looked up at it as if it was a treasure.

“You'll drool” He laughed and began walking towards the corridor, leaving you frowning.

“Don't you want to watch anything?” He cursed at himself when he heard your kind of wavering voice, your hands playing with the remote as you looked at him hopefully. He locked his jaw for a second, his eyes capturing you in front of the sofa, wainting for him to spend a bit of his time with you.

“I have work to do” He gifted you a little smile, and you just only nodded, cracking a small giggle.

“Oh, of course, yeah” You laughed, scratching your head, and waiting for him to go for you to finally slouch in the sofa, a little absentminded.

He apparently gifted you a TV, a fucking expensive one. But he didn't want to spend time with you? Just watch something for a while? It didn't make sense to you. He behaved so affectionate the past night. Helping you with your finger, and even tucking you in the sofa. Was he- No. You physically shook your head, trying to take those thoughts out of you. This wasn't a relationship, not by far.

It was a deal, kind of a transaction. For you to be safe, and for them to have a bait for their mafia enemies or whatever. You should get that inside your head. And not get carried away by TV's and personal doctors.

He never left his office, almost all day passed. You ate a quick meal for lunch, and stayed watching the whole 'gremlins' movies on the TV. Passing the hours watching your favorite movie. You caught yourself looking at the corridor more times that you liked. Hoping he would get out and say something to you, anything.

And five pm was approaching rapidly, and even with the absence of his presecne, you decided to tidy up the living room and get a quick shower. Inside it, and once you got out, you rummiated about what you should wear, incessantly. Something comfy? After all you stayed here for a couple of days. Something fancy maybe? If it was gonna be a business dinner you wanted to look accordingly. Or maybe more casual? As they were friends, they sure wouldn't mind.

You tried to get your mind clear, decide on something, but once you opened the closet and saw all the clothes hanged up on them, it only made it even more difficult. You let out a big sigh before you got to work, trying on different clothes. Jeans, shirts and tops, trying and find a look that would be fitting.

A knock on your door made you jump a little, getting you out of your spiraling thoughts.

“Are you getting ready?” He asked behind your door, shouting a small yes to him.

“Change of plans, we are going to Namjoon's house to eat dinner” You opened your eyes, damning yourself. So all of this was worthless? Now you had to think about one outfit according to a totally different scenario. Fuck.

You wanted this to end already, so you just decided on some jeans and a fitting sweater. In a matter of five minutes you put minimal make up on you. You were now going to go another's person house, you had to look presentable. Before going out, you decided on some black boots to go for your look, looking at the mirror before opening the door and trying to find Jungkook. You walked to the kitchen, fixing your pants while you walked, putting in place the small belt you wore. You found him by the counter, clicking away on his phone.

You took your chance to scan what he was wearing. Tigth black jeans and a cozy sweater with some boots. Did you actually fucking match without wanting to? This had to be a joke.

You looked at your outfit, comparing it to his, and damned yourself for the stupid choice of clothes. You should have went with your little lamb pajamas and call it a day, this was ridiculous.

He, too, stayed staring at you. Your outfit, the way you styled your soft hair, and the way he could actually follow the outline of your thighs thanks to the tight bell bottom jeans you wore like a glove.

You gulped when you noticed his eyes scanning you. Fuck, he must be irritated you actually copied his outfit without wanting.

“Should I change?” You played with the strap of your small bag hanging on your shoulders. His brain registering your words, and flying back to your face. He hesitated a bit, clearing his throat and shaking his head.

“No, no. You- We're ready to go” He preffered to skip the part where he actually said you look delicious and beautiful, for whatever reason. You too took the elevator, and you swore it was the most awkward elevator trip you have ever experienced. What's gotten into him? He didn't seem mad, just utterly nervous and relaxed at the same time. You couldn't understand shit.

You two walked to the bike, and you damned yourself for the too intimate set up you were about to live. He put your helmet on, careful to not hurt you. And once again, you couldn't stop your eyes roaming from his eyes to his lips, hair and cheeks. Studying his whole face while he buckled the small trinkets in your helmet.

He didn't say a single thing the whole time, the only words he whispered below his breath 'Fucking jeans' while you sat on the bike, his hands gripping the handlebar while you got on top of the back seat. You bit your lip to not let out a laugh. So that's the game he was playing huh? Stone cold demeanor for you, but you were still on his mind.

Weird...but hot.

And as expected, you didn't grip on him on the way there. You preffered to grip the small handles on both sides of you. Two can play the game.

You arrived there fairly fast, Namjoon's house not that far from Jungkook's.

You two walked in, and you were surprised everyone was already there. You greeted them with a small smile. You haven't seen them all together since the night of the incident, where they thought you were some kind of killer mafia member.

So it was kind of awkward at first. You weren't someone really bothered by situations like this. But this was a korean mob, actually dangerous men that, somehow, you have been involved with. So you didn't want to overstep.

“I knew Jugkook was insufferable, but going as far as mutilating yourself?” Jimin joked at you, his eyes creasing as a smile occupied his face, noticing the bendages on your finger. You laughed and shook your head, accepting the small hug he gave you and explaining the situation briefly. And finally, sitting down in the big table.

They began talking right away, different matters you didn't understand, and didn't want to either. So you just sat there, eating a few bites of the snacks already prepared on the table.

You weren't really listening in, you knew better than to get yourself too involved in their businesses and entangled mafia stories. But once the food was almost already devoured and the conversation turned more mundane, you gave yourself the luxury to actually follow the conversation.

“Better to be mindful where you step right?” Hoseok, the guy with the most mathematically perfect nose you have ever seen, joked directly at you. You grew a bit confused at what he meant, as you weren't paying much attention to what they said.

You looked around with a small smile, and finally looked at him, laughing lighthly.

“Yeah” You nodded, Jimin now introducing another subject to talk about before this would turn awkward.

They kept talking, and you decided to drink a bit of the water you kept beside you. Playing with your fingers in the meantime. Jungkook and two of them walked away from the living room, heading to the kitchen for some minutes. Why? You didn't even know. But as earlier, you sat there calmly.

“So, Jungkook got a new TV right?” You raised your head, searching for the voice that asked that. Finding the guy that pointed the gun at you that night trying to raise a conversation. How nice, you thought. You understood where they came from so, you shrugged off the awkward night some time ago.

“Yeah! It actually surprised me. It came this morning and-”

“Must be nice to live in luxury without actually rising your finger” Taehyung joked, followed with a loud laugh coming from him. The guys laughed lightly, following his joke while you looked around them, watching their reaction. Even if they looked relaxed, his comment actually made something turn inside of you, but you laughed lightly at his joke. Trying to follow the conversation even though it was kind of out of line.

Yoongi now was the one that redirected the conversation, but you sat there, kind of uneasy. Was he- Did he really think that about you? You tried to keep your thoughts away from his words, shoving it away and focusing on the now new conversation.

But, as you expected, the conversation did a full 180, and came back to the same topic.

"You know, you really left a mark on him" Taehyung nodded as you frowned once again, your eyes following his actions, taking a sip of his wine. Was he going to be nice about it now? I mean, he didn't know anything about you, not that you told him.

"Jungkook always had a soft spot for strays." He shrugged off, his words making your heart skip a beat. This fucking bastard. You turned rapidly, your mouth opening for a second, prepared to spit something about him, but you couldn't.

"Taehyung" Jimin said accusitively, but the other one just shook his head and turned his palms upwards.

"What? It's true" You blinked rapidly, and decided to turn again on your chair, facing in front of you and looking at your now empty plate, biting your lip. Your heart beating a hundred beats a second. You could feel eyes on you, but you didn't have the courage to look back up.

"Hey guys! Namjoon and I thought about moving to the sofa, what do you think?" You heard Jungkook's voice approaching, his easy tone making his way into the room. But you couldn't bring yourself to look up at him. Not now that you felt your eyes triple in wetness, your waterline a bit more heavy than normal. Jesus, Y/N, get a hold of yourself.

Jungkook looked at the tense scenario, his friends fully mute, which was rare in itself. He tried reading what happened, but he failed. The guys decided to nod slowly, Taehyung being the one to catch the youngest in a silly conversation.

You raised your eyes, your gaze crashing with Jimin's in a second, his tense face and apologetic face giving you more reason to bottle everything up, swallowing back your tears and standing up.

"I have to go to the bathroom" You responded happily, sounding oddly convincing while the guys nodded. You took your eyes off Jimin and instantly got yourself inside the bathroom.

This fucker.

First Taehyung, this bitch had the audacity to call you a stray. A fucking stray. Really? If that was the game he was going to play, you could say the same about their fucking messy and bloody business.

You thought Jimin was the friendliest one. He talked to you all through the evening before you sat for dinner. Talking about your finger and telling you a funny story about the doctor that treated you.

But when his stupid friend treated you so lowly, he actually shut up?

Come on now.

You paced the stupidly huge bathroom back to back, your brain filled with rage. But as the minutes passed, his words kept repeating on your head. The way he said it, they way you had to close your mouth, and the way not any one from them actually said something.

Did they all think that about you? That you somehow got yourself a great luxury life just for the hell of it? That was a low you wouldn't even recognize.

And it hurt. Of course it did. They didn't know you, not even a ten percent. And they actually had the courage to make those assumptions from you.

Jungkook wasn't even in the room when they said those words to you. You wouldn't blame him, but it kinda resented you. If they had that idea from you, you didn't want to imagine what he may have said about you to them.

Did they actually say that when he wasn't around, on purpose? They thought you were defenseless then? Maybe he would have jumped to defend you.

But you felt a pang on your heart, imagining the hipothetical situation where he wouldn't say anything to stop those words to you.

Most importantly, how could you now get back there if you knew now that's what they thought about you? Did they really? You didn't know. And you constant, albeit slow, walking back and forth now was making you dizzy.

You splashed a bit of cold water on your nape and wrists, trying to ground you a bit more and get you a bit calmer. You closed your eyes in front of the mirror. You didn't even want to see how you looked now.

You now heard their voices on the living room, and they seemed far. You confirmed it once you opened the door. You had two walks, the corridor leading you to the living room, or the corridor to the beautiful garden in the back of the house.

And you made your choice almost inmediately. You quietly opened the door, closing it behind you and sitting on the small steps that lead to a small grass area.

You fixed your gaze to the small pond of water on your right. The droplets of water falling slowly on the pond kind of grounding you a bit more.

You wanted to rid yourself of whatever happened back there, and keep looking forward. You couldnt talk to anyone while you stayed with Jungkook. And you felt lonely, so lonely. No alone time walking aimlessly in the city, no long nights with Yuna gossiping about everything and anything. You couldn't use your phone, not even visit Yuna or you coworkers for some mindless chat. You thought you had it under control, accepting your new reality.

But you didnt expect this shitshow to unfold, and you were irritated, mad and sad that they didn't contemplate what you were giving up on in your daily life.

You played with the small laces on your shoes, hugging your legs to you and resting your chin on your knees. Closing your eyes and deciding to focus on the silly pond rather than rile yourself up even more.

A few minutes passed where you could already feel yourself a bit more relaxed, and you didn't notice the hard steps at your back, the door being opened, and a figure sitting beside you.

You thought about turning and see who sat beside you, but his voice already made it clear for you.

"You crying over that?" This bitch had the audacity to even talk to you.

You could hear the lighter by his mouth, and the smoke fill the space between you.

"Leave me alone" You sighed, your eyes dancing between all the inanimate objects you saw in front of you.

"You're too weak for this life, you know" he said simply, you felt your blood boiling more and more.

"I didn't choose this life" You retorted, harder now turning your head to see his profile.

"Nobody chooses this" He spoke as a matter of fact, turning and looking at you as if you were dumb.

"I just dont know what i have done to you" You tied to be the mature one here, but it was obvious he didn't play like that.

"You simply did nothing, everything fell from the sky for you" He joked, a sickening smirk on his face. You stood up, not knowing what to do with the rage that was growing on you.

"You don't know anything about me" You raised your voice at him, your two fists clenched beside you. He sat up too, his height surpassing yours, but you didnt give a single fuck.

"You dont know anything about Jungkook either, yet you jumped in his home like nothing" He spat at you, his hate filled eyes actually making you take a step back. But you refused to let this bitch humiliate you further.

"You're jealous" You reasoned, a small smile now on your face as you watched the visual wince on his face.

"What? Were you passed around like a blunt between them before i appeared or-" The sudden grip of force on your neck cut all of the air flow in you. You didn't expect this to happen. You opened your eyes as big as you could, his strong hand taking you from the neck, gripping tightly, approaching you with a face resembling a fucking psycho.

"Don't try me, i have pointed a gun at you, there's nothing i wouldnt do to shut that mou-"

You gathered all the strength you had in your left arm, and hooked a punch directly to his eye. A grunt escaping you with the force of the movement. You chose to not let the sudden pain in your knuckles distract you of the joy you had watching him on the floor, holding his nose.

"You didnt see that one coming did you?" You spat at him, his form still on the floor, grunting and moving on the floor.

You locked your jaw, the rage in you dissipating for a second. You steps took you were you didn't expect, and strutted down the hallway towards the living room.

They were all sprawled on different couches, talking lightly, but you only had one thing in mind.

"Y/N, where were you? we were-" You didnt even stop, your eyes searching for your bag, all of them looking at you as if you were crazy. But you didnt care, fuck this, fuck this men and fuck you too for all you care.

"What's on your neck?" Jimin frowned, scanning your reddening neck as you didn't even look at anyone in the eye. You mission was clear, getting your bag, and getting the fuck out of here.

"What happened?" Jungkook was utterly confused, his gaze moving from you, to the bathroom door, and then his mates. He couldn't make sense of anything that was happening.

"Wait! Y/N" You heard them as your fast pace crossed the threshold of the door, closening it with a loud thud, and making your way down the street. You didnt even know where the fuck you were. But you didnt care.

Your brain didnt think about anything else but to escape that ridiculous situation. Your heart beating as fast as ever, your knuckles hurting like a bitch, and your breathing coming out raggedly. You didnt stop, not for a second.

"What the fuck happened?" Jimin crouched beside Taehyung, trying to see what happened, and why was he gripping his now bloody nose.

"That bitch hit me" He answered, and Jimin knew he was telling the truth, but not entirely. He wasn't blind, Taehyung was really hostile with strangers, and you weren't the exception. He definetely crossed a few lines this evening, making you his target for some reason.

The difference is that you were just a girl caught up on this, not a fucking mafia rival. So he didn't measure his attitude with you, treating you as if you were actually dangerous. But as the things unfolded, and he saw the blood dripping from his nose, he should think twice about you being a bit dangerous though.

"Y/N! Where are you going? Stop!" You could hear Jungkook's screams behind you, his hard steps getting closer and closer to you. But you didnt want anything coming from any of them. This was just ridiculous, a shitshow through and through.

"Y/N! Will you stop? Damn!" He could finally get a grip on your arm, albeit light but enough to make you stop.

"Let me go!" You tried to shake his hand on you, but this fucker was stronger. What a surprise.

"What happened? Explain it to me" He nearly begged at you, scanning your now messy hair, glossy eyes and red neck in front of him.

"What happened? Are you serious?" You shouted at him, totally losing it in front of him while he just took it. His eyes fixed on you, trying to decipher what the fuck unfolded inside for you to be so worked up.

"That fucker has been treating me like shit since ive stepped foot in that house. Calling me names and treating me like im a fucking dictator or something" Jungkook frowned at that. He didnt even notice anything like that. He only noticed you were shyer than normal, but nothing along those lines.

"This is bullshit Jungkook, bullshit. Let me go" You tried to ease his grip on you, again. But he resisted.

"You need to calm down, Y/N, i wont let you go like this" He tried to reason with you, but you laughed at his words.

"This is ridiculous, who the fuck does he think he is?!" You kept raising your voice in the empty street. You sounded like you were mad, but in reality, you were beggining to feel those unshed tears on your waterline, again.

"Y/N, please" He gulped down his feeling, starting to regret even coming here when he saw the tears on your eyes. "Talk to me"

"He fucking called me a stray, Jungkook, in front of everybody, and kept talking about how im living now in luxury without raising a finger a-and, fuck!" You tried to keep your tears at bay, blinking rapidly as all the feelings that you felt through the night raced inside of you.

"W-what? When? I didnt fucking notice Y/N, i-im sorry-"

"You didnt do anything wrong is just that- " You finally couldnt stop the tears from running down your face. Everything you tried not to feel this past days was now oozing out of you. Your frustration, your sadness, your confusion with Jungkook and life itself. Your loneliness. And now his dirty words spat at you.

He couldn't handle it, and being honest, didn't even know how to fix this. Where to start. So he agreed with his instincts, approaching your form and hugging you in a second. His hand behind your nape, guiding your face to his chest, and grazing your shoulder slowly.

"Im sorry, for everything" He mumbled in your hair, and you kept your sobs to yourself, only ragged breaths and tears falling in his chest. You clang to him, your arms around his waist as you felt his hands on your head, strokinig your hair slowly.

"We'll fix this, okay?" He assured you once again, his hands never leaving the soothing ministrations on your scalp, while you were too busy trying to calm yourself .

“here” you suddenly heard Jimin’s voice, the two of you separating from one another as Jungkook thanked him for bringing his things outside.

“you’ve got a great hook, huh?” Jimin joked, a little nervous about everything unfolding.

“U-um-“

“You punched him?” Jungkook looked at you surprised, his big eyes reflecting a whole galaxy while he waited your response.

You became nervous all over again, but fuck he deserved it.

“Y-yeah i- he grabbed me by my neck” you explained, hoping for understanding from their part. After all, they did nothing entirely wrong.

“Your neck?!” You heard the anger and surprise on his voice, the sudden hand on your nape moving your head for him to inspect your neck making you a bit nervous.

He stayed looking at your neck and hand, trying to check you didn’t hurt yourself more than necessary. Well, you shouldn’t have to have any mark on you at all. Only his, if that were the case.

“Sorry for everything Y/N, we’ll talk to him” Jimin assured you as you nodded, Jungkook left your neck, his brows furrowed and a pissed expression on his face.

“I might punch him too, repeatedly” His fists clenched on his side, a sudden rush of violence in his body. He wouldn’t let anybody touch you and even less hurt you. He could rip off his head right now, if he went in there and-

Jimin put his hands on his chest when he saw the quick steps he took leading to the house.

“You have more important matters on your hands, go. We’ll talk about this.” He assured, the pointed look he gave to the youngest enough to calm him down, at least for now.

Jungkook sighed and nodded, his hand surprisingly holding yours.

“Deal with him” Jungkook stated before the two of you walked to his parked bike on the street.

And this time, you didn’t grip the back handles. His hand led yours to his tummy, encircling his whole body. And you didn’t resist on hugging him the whole way back, feeling his body move below your arms and his warmth on your chest.

You arrived in a matter of twenty minutes, while he positioned the helmets on the rack against the back, you took off your shoes and bag. Wanting to forget this night as soon as possible. But obviously Jungkook had other ideas.

“Come” he mumbled gripping your waist lightly, guiding your steps to the stool. And once you sat down, he brought to you a blue ice packet. Taking your hand in his and putting it against your knuckles, making you wince at the sudden cold against your skin.

“It’ll help with the swelling” his affirmation sounded close, his body stood in front of you. Close, you could even feel his leg through your knee. His voice caressed the top of your head while he carefully separated the ice pack from your skin from time to time.

You just sat there, letting him treat your hand, and enjoying his closeness for a bit. He still smelled like perfume, it seemed like he put it on two minutes ago, even if the whole night passed.

He thought over and over again how to approach this conversation with you. On the bike ride and now, in front of you. It was even worse for him because he wssnt actually there when it happened, any of it.

But one thing he could imagine is how you felt. And it didn’t go past him.

“You punched him huh?” His deep voice made you raid your head, your eyes going slightly crosseyed focusing on him, that’s how close he was.

“Yeah” you giggle lightly, and bit your lip. You too didn’t know how to approach this. After all, you were a stranger. And he was his friend. You didn’t know if you should feel proud for your impromptu self defense tactic, or bad because you shouldn’t have crossed that line.

But he didn’t seem to care, for all he said.

“That’s badass” he stated, his thumb brushing lightly on top of the little bruise, and kept putting the ice on you.

You giggled at his words, shrugging your shoulders while you looked at the ice pack. It was better that than looking at him that close to you. Feeling every movement and every breath linger between the space between you.

“I’m sorry for what happened, and we will handle it accordingly but-“ he seemed to thought over what he was going to say, admiring the almost puppy dog eyes you were giving him right now. After crying, your eyes stayed with the same glossy look, making you look absolutely beautiful.

“I want you to know that it’s not true” you blinked at his words, thinking of everything Taehyung said to you as a matter of fact.

“You’re not a case that I’m trying to solve, and neither you are a sugar baby that is now frugal with money, okay?” He nodded, you followed him. His words getting their way into your heart while he held your hand.

“You’re welcomed here. I know that the last days have been rough.” He surprised you with what he said, he actually recognized that lately things have been a little too awkward in here.

“Thank you, Jungkook. It’s just that-“ you looked down, your eyes searching for your words as you thought about the best way to put it in words.

“I had to give up everything, my job, my friends, my coworkers, the life I had, everything.” He nodded slowly at your words, his eyes searching for yours behind your hair, that covered slightly your face. A sudden urge to just brush it all away to see your whole face only for him ran through his veins. “And I know it’s for my safety but-“

“I get it, it’s not easy” he mumbled again, his eyes still locked on your face, a small sad smile on yours when you finally looked up at him.

“But I don’t want your stay here to be hostile, you know. Sorry for the attic, and for this shitty night” he answered sincerely, something you could feel in his voice and eyes.

A few moments of silence passed between you, a calm energy now beginning to feel your bodies and the space you shared. There was nothing left to say, or admit.

“Does your neck hurt still? Let me see” his serious voice and the way he put the ice pack on the counter made you shiver for a second. His hands delicately on your neck in a beat, his eyes inspecting every inch of skin there while a deep sigh got out of him.

You could feel him get worked up at the sight, a red and irritated circle on your left side, and a few smaller ones on the other side.

“That fucker-“ he said through his teeth, but you were tired. Of everything that happened, of everything that this night made you feel. So you raised your hand, closing it into the fingers that caressed your marks delicately. Your eyes searching for truce.

He caught on it right away, his brows a bit more relaxed, his pink lips opening slightly at your actions, nodding.

“You need to take your pill” he reminded you, keeping the ice on the freezer as you watched him walk away, strangely missing his closeness, and his touch.

What the fuck was happening here.

“Yeah, I’ll get a quick shower in before getting in bed” you explained rushedly, the two of you looking at each other awkwardly. It seemed that, even if the two of you sincerely talked about the superficial issues that ran through, you two could not get over the slight tension between the two of you.

And to be honest, you preferred not to talk about it. It would make everything a lot more difficult and weird than it already was.

“Sure, yeah. I’ll catch up with Jimin” he nodded slowly, swearing at himself for not being able to take his eyes away from you once you walked back to your room. Those fucking jeans.

You actually needed less than ten minutes to finish your shower. Just a refresher for closing the night. You wore the pajamas you packed, and let your hair down once you were out of the bathroom. Walking to the living room / kitchen area, at the end of the day it was an open kitchen.

He appeared on your sight, his hand running through his soft hand as he nodded. And once he saw you, walking to him with that tight top and small shorts, he damned every clothing line for even existing. His eyes couldn’t help but give you a one over, a fast one at that.

You didn’t seem to notice, your eyes searching for the box of pills you kept beside the microwave. You only listened to a ‘yeah, goodbye’ from his part when he hang up. His figure was confidently reclined at the counter, his arms crossed as he watched you take out the pill from the box, just beside him.

“Jimin says he’s sorry, for everything” he stated, and you only nodded while preparing your glass of water for the pill. He stood, waiting for an answer you wouldn’t give, but at least he had an excuse to examine the smooth curve your back delivered.

“Also, where did you learn to punch like that?” He now actually asked, a curiosity he had just after he knew about your sudden karate fist into Taehyungs face.

You giggled and looked at him, an eyebrow raised while you watched his curious gaze. You turned to him completely, the glass on the counter while you walked slowly to him.

His smile fell slowly, noticing the way your body approached him with utter confidence, your hips swinging swiftly while you looked up at him. And he could swear on anything that the eyes you were giving him could make him burn the whole wide world just for you.

Your hands stayed by your sides, his breathing began picking up, you could see his Adam’s apple bounce up and down for once while you shortened your distance. His hands stayed where they were too, beside him, and maybe he had the urge to even grip the counter behind him.

His rising and falling chest right before your eyes, you raised your index finger, running it slowly down his chest. It felt like time stopped.

His big eyes watching you intently, his pulse quickening, and your stare, ever so menacing, locked on his eyes like a curse.

But then it snapped, and you were the one to blame for that.

“I had to learn how to defend myself” you said normally, your shoulders shrugging and walking away from him, in search of the pill and the glass of water. And Jungkook couldn’t feel more mortified.

You played in his face. That wasn't even fair play. He was defenseless in front of you, and your actions turned his brain to mush for a minute.

He only nodded, too focused on recomposing himself, and maybe even trying to hide the sudden bulge on his pants.

You swallowed your pill, waiting for something to come out of his mouth. But the kicthen was eerily silent, so you just bid your goodnight and walked to your bedroom with a small smile on your face.

The week passed fairly fast. You and Jungkook have been behaving friendlier, your conversations now maybe a bit more transparent, even if the push and pull was predominant in the way you talked.

You normally only shared breakfast, as for lunch and dinner, you too never seemed to link up. His schedule and yours a bit mismatched. But even that way, your coesxistence was much more pleasant than the last days.

Any question you had, you made, with no guarantee he would respond honestly or with a mindless joke. Even then, if he didnt want to respond with the truth, you would respect it. You too weren't ready to lay out your mind in front of him.

Like one morning, when you two were cleaning up the kitchen, a sudden thought popped on your head.

“It seems like everything you do is so mysterious and cool, but how do you do mundane things?” You cleaned the counter surface as you spoke.

“What do you mean?” He stopped cleaning the dishes for a second, turning to see what you actually wanted to say.

“Like groceries” You turned, your back to the counter as you faced each other. “Don't you ever go to the supermarket and buy your food?”

He smiled lightly, biting his lip to stop his laugh from coming out.

“They just appear out of nowhere, like a magic spell you know” he laughed, his hand making a small movement like shaking a wand.

“Im serious!” You tried to hit him with the rag on your hands, but it quite didnt reach him. He just laughed in front of you.

“I just order whatever I need, they bring it here” He said simply, your eyebrows raised at him, uncapable of believing him.

“Do you really do all that, rather than just spend an hour on a shop?”

“It's boring, I have things to do” He nodded at his words, convinced of his excuse while you just scoffed.

“Whatever you say, capo” He now was the one slinting his eyes at you, but you ignored him bashfully, cleaning everything and putting it all away.

“I ordered for today, it'll be here by seven, please open the door without shitting yourself” His words registered in your brain as he walked off the kitchen, and he laughed when you pretended to hit him again, running off to the office that stole hours of him from you.

You invested yourself again on the book you were currently reading, a small note pad by your side to annotate whatever you deemed interesting. You didn’t want to mess up the book with small scribbles.

Your lunch consisted on some leftover meat and rice from yesterday, while Jungkook left not much after. Taking the keys from the kitchen while bidding his goodbyes, reminding you on the stupid deliver you had to get for him.

He was gone for almost all afternoon, and when you were on the best part of the chapter, the bell rang –of course–. You exhaled deeply, keeping the pen between the pages you were reading and walked to the door.

You couldn’t believe who was waiting for you on the other side.

Your eyes tripled in size while you watched the tall woman behind the door, a big smile on her face.

“Yuna? W-what are you doing here?” You smiled brightly, hugging her the second she opened her arms for you.

“Jungkook called me” she said as if it was obvious, but it made you frown for a second, your face separating from her body to look at her.

“Jungkook?” You asked, grabbing her by the hand and iviting her inside, closing the door behind her.

“Yeah! He called me saying that you wanted to see me, of course you did. And he arranged some kind of chauffeur to get me and all of that. Classy huh?” She wiggled her eyebrows while you looked at her, stunned.

“He actually called you?” you stated, trying to understand the situation that unfolded in front of you.

“Yes, girl. Is that so hard to believe?” She waited for your reply, but when she saw how the wires on your brain didn’t seem to fully connect, she sighed and got her bag on the counter.

“I brought everything we need” she giggled devilishly, opening her bag and pulling out two of your favorite brand of white wand. You sighed in surprise, your eyes getting little stars dancing on them as you clapped your hands.

“God I missed you so much” you hugged her once more, and rapidly arranging two tall and fancy glasses and some simple snacks on the living room table.

The two of you quickly sat down, both of your feet tucked below you while you ran through the latest news.

“So, how’s it going with Mr. Mafia” she wiggled her eyebrows, a teasing expression on her eyes while you rolled your eyes.

“Not like that” you shook your head, taking a small sip of the wine.

“Really? Tell me everything” she inclined herself towards you slightly, listening to everything you explained.

The attic incident, the awkwardness after, your cut while making dinner, and the also messy dinner with his mates.

She kept listening to you all throughout the stories, making questions when she didn’t get something. And for the last part, she just stared at you, mouth opened.

“So you punched that mother fucker huh?” She smiled, punching your shoulder lightly as you laughed.

“He was being a real asshole, I shouldn’t have to put up with that just because I got tangled in this mess” you explained simply, and frankly it was your point of view.

“Of course he did, who does he think he is?” You only sighed at that. Technically he was a bad guy, a mafia man that didn't see good or bad. But either way, you weren't a threat, not a real one at least. So you just did what you had to do.

“And why the 'not like that' about Jungkook?” She asked curiously, taking a few of the chips on the little bowl in front of her.

You shrugged your shoulders, your eyes drifinting anywhere but her face when you thought about the real reason.

“It's just- kinda difficult” She raised her brows at you, sipping from her cup.

“Difficult” She stated, questioning your choice of words, feeling a vertigo like feeling on your tummy. But you just laughed.

“Im here because im in danger, not because he wants me so desperately” You explained, also munching on the chips while you drank.

“I wouldnt say desperately, but he does want to fuck you” You opened your eyes wide, her eyes surprising you, your cheeks filled with a crimson faced. Which, of course, made Yuna laugh loudly at you.

“Okay, okay, I'll stop, dont want you to implode” You laughed at her words, and the evening just went on. The crimson on your cheeks stayed there throught the whole evening until the night, not because you were ashamed, no. The reason was a rose wine bottled in a fancy bottle which you two seemed to drink with no stopping.

It was just delicious, and also your favorite, so who could blame you? The two of you were equally tipsy tho, so it didn't really matter. You were having fun.

You seemed to forget about the pass of time when the door to the balcony suddenly opened, Jungkook peeking at the two of you. His eyes searched for you when he got through the front door, and when he saw two shadows at the balcony and an already finished bottle inside, he deduced you two really had a great time.

The glossy eyes that looked at him through droppy eyes and full rose cheeks confirmed it even more.

“Hey there” He smirked at the state of both of you, his body still halfway through the door.

“Hi, Jk” Yuna smiled at her while you smiled and covered yourself a bit more with the soft blanket you brought out with you.

“Isn't it cold for you to be out here?” He raised one eyebrow, his smirk still there.

“Yeah, she just needed a bit of cold air” Yuna explained, laughing at your expression behind the blanket.

“I can see that” He laughed too, nodding at the both of you. Yuna suddenly got up.

“I need to go, I was waiting for you to arrive” She explained, raising from the sofa and walking inside, ready to tidy everything up.

You got up too, biting your lip for a second while you nodded at her, watching her form get inside the apartment. And your eyes moved, albeit shyly, to him. He looked beautiful in this light. His beautiful skin and sharp jaw highlighted by the soft lights of the street and the moon.

His eyes shined more than ever now, while he scanned you slowly. Your body covered with a blanket, hair a little messy, and glossy eyes that had him hooked when he looked eyes with you.

“Had fun?” He smiled warmly, his hands on his pockets.

“Yep, really fun” You smiled at him, your hand runnind absentmindedly through your hair.

“Get inside, you'll catch a cold” You didnt even think about answering back, your feet moving you inside, where the temperature was less sharp.

He admired you from behind, his hand closing the door and securing it with the lock. You rushed to help Yuna, and a conversation that Jungkook couldn't get to hear had the two of you giggling while you cleaned up.

He stopped for a second. The sound echoing through his apartment, he really didnt mind. He could get used to this. But fuck, was this complicated.

“Im so hungry” You mumbled, your eyes and hands quickly searching for something to eat while Yuna laughed and gave you a kiss on your hair, walking to the door.

She stopped beside Jungkook.

“Thanks for coming by. Also, remember the dress for next week.” He reminded her, she smile and nodded at everything he said, confirming she had it all under her control.

“She's wine tipsy, good luck with that” She whispered mischievously, her hand tapping twice on her shoulder, and disappearing behind the door. Leaving a confused Jungkook behind.

Good luck? Why? Did you suddenly turn into a hungry wolf? He had this under control. He had to be the only one not drinking in nights out with friends, he could handle you. Of course.

“You should go to bed” He watched you turn, your hands filled with small cheeseballs while you bit away, your big eyes looking at him as if you were caught redhanded. You finished biting and swallowed, preparing your comeback mentally.

“Do i now have a curfew?” You smiled slowly, his steps coming closer to you.

“Maybe i should put you on one, yeah” He nodded, a smile on his face while you closed the cheese container, leaving it on the counter.

“Then maybe i should escape” You looked away, shrugging your shoulders. His smile grew at that.

“Oh really?” He nodded slowly, his tongue prodding on his cheek while he thought his response over. “Try it”

“I wont give you the chance to catch me now, it can be whenever” You walked slowly to the living room, his steps following you, as if he was in a trance, chasing your perfume and warmth.

“I might have to watch you closer then” You turned to him, standing close to the sofa. And slowly, once he caught up with you, challenging your eyes with his imposing figure, you took your chance. Your hand suddenly on his chest, pushing gently but with the force necessary to make him sit on the sofa.

He quickly realized what you did, his eyes now looking up at you, unaware. You smiled slowly, your typsy limbs making way on both of his sides. Your hands came quickly around his neck, your legs on both of his sides while you sat confidently on his lap.

His hands quickly shot up, but once they were on the air, he didn't know where to hold actually. Only when your lips suddenly made contact with his ear, he dropped them on your back.

Gulping, his hands moved slowly on your clothes covered back. You sighed directly on his ear, all of the hair on him perking up, a sensory overload he wasn't sure he could share.

“Y-y/n” He whispered at you, and the slow whimper you let out as a response had him closing his eyes and cursing to himself. Your lips found his neck rather fast, your small and wet kisses on his skin making it difficult to control this.

“You're drunk, Y/N” He said a bit louder now, his hands a bit rougher on your back for you to notice. You shook your head reather cutely, your lips never stopping your ministrations on him, and stroking his nape slowly, your hands tangling in the hair on the back of his neck.

“Fuck- Y/N” He tried once again, his patience now running thin. He wanted this, of course he wanted this. The slight reddening of his cheeks and his quick pulse a good example of it. But you were drunk, and he wouldn't do anything with you in this tipsy state.

“Y/N, come on” He didn't even know where he found his sudden strength of will. His body suddenly getting up, while you stayed hugged to him, your legs on his waist while your head rested on his shoulders.

You were on cloud nine, his cologne more intoxicating than ever, his rough hands holding you up while you felt the goosebumps on his skin, his ragged breath on your own shoulder.

“Noo” you whined, closing your eyes as he carried you into the bedroom. He couldn't stop the deep chuckle he let out, now you were sleepy? God, you were a vixen.

“Yup, to sleep” He sighed, opening the door and quickly leaving you in your bed, helping you with the sheets as you wiggled slightly and refused.

“You're no fun” You dragged out, but staying somehow still while he tucked you in. His swift hands making sure to cover properly for a good night sleep, fixing the pillow and your hair, careful not to hurt you.

“What a tragedy right?” He asked, teasing you, and you nodded incessantly, a small pout on your face while he shook his head. You were the one mad now, but he was the one who sported a rather hurtful tent on his pants. But he wasn't like that, and if he had to wait a lifetime, he would.

“Good night kiss?” You tried once again, speaking fast for a tipsy person, amazing him, letting out a big laugh at your words.

“In dreamland” He assured you, and the only thing you could do before he left the room was pout a bit more. But the second he was out of your room, you quickly found comfort in the soft matress, and quickly feel in sleep.

He, on the other hand, had to decide with his sudden horniness, and the image of you in top of him, arousing him to no end, whining in his ear and feeling your body through your clothes.

Fuck, he had it difficult now.

there it isssssss, what do you think? kind of love the edging between oc and jk, if i give that cookie to soon then its not that entertainingggg!!!

love you and let me know what you think!!

The faded walls of her tower had been her whole world, all she'd ever known, scattered with sun-bleached patches of paint left behind from the days her mother's errands ran long. As a child, she had tried to push back against the boredom that settled into its walls, but painting only distracted her for so long, and the confined space only offered her so much space to fill.

As time passed and every stone in the tower became marked with layers of paint, she found herself spending most of her time on the windowsill, feet dangling in the soft breeze that drifted through and gently brushed against her skin. She couldn't draw her eyes away from the soft fluttering in the forest as leaves danced, in what felt like a mockery of her situation.

She knew the dangers of the outside world, the horrendous nature of man, she had heard it all. Her mother had drilled it into her with every lecture upon returning from her journeys, no matter how many times she asked to accompany her. She sighed softly, glancing back into the tower. Drab and dull compared to the greenery outside, yet she knew her mother had her reasons.

She often tried to keep herself entertained. Pottery, reading, baking, more reading. It was surprisingly easy to grow bored within the confines of the tower. Even brushing her hair became an exercise of patience. It would take over an hour, long strands slipping through her fingers, only to tangle again before the day had even properly begun.

Her mother, however, always found ways to fill the quiet. She would bring paints and she had loved them. At first, she used them carefully, tracing colour across pages torn from books, filling empty margins with shapes and fragments of thought. Then the pages were not enough. The bedroom walls followed. Than the door.

And eventually, the entire tower itself became her canvas.

Swirls of colour layered over stone and silence, as if she could build an entirely different world over the one she had been given. Purple and gold were her favourites. It reminded her of something, that soft, lustrous gold, though the memory what never quite in reach.

Her gaze drifted to the greying coals in the fireplace, slowly dying as she sat daydreaming for too long. With a small huff, she pushed herself up from the windowsill and crossed the room, grabbing the bellows from beside the brick hearth to revive the embers. As she worked, her eyes wandered upward to one of the paintings carefully placed above the fireplace. The placement was deliberate.

Every night followed the same routine. Her mother would sit her down by the hearth, herself settled in the comfort of a worn chair, as she combed through her cascading hair. It used to be her favorite part of the day. The warmth of the fire, the gentle tug of fingers through her hair, the sound of her mother's voice filling the quiet space.

She would tell her stories of the outside world, mostly cautionary, but still thrilling in their own way. Back then, she had dreamed of adventures of her own. And tonight, she had hoped her newest painting might be enough to convince her mother to take her along on one. Just above the mantle lay a swirl of navy and pink, the colours blending together to capture a moment of serenity. A night sky, the sunset. And bright lights scattered across the heavens.

She had read countless books on the constellations and she had charted every star and knew them all by name, but these lights were different. Since they had arrived at the tower, every year on her birthday bright lights would float majestically through the air. No amount of reading would tell her what they were so she felt it had something to do with her.

She would watch them every year. Slipping from her bed in the dead of night, she would creep to the tower's only exit, undo the latch, and lean as far over the ledge as she dared. Straining her neck, she searched for glimpses of the sky as slowly, one by one, the glowing orbs would fill a vast corner of the night sky before drifting away again.

She longed to sit beneath an open sky just once. In a meadow awash with wildflowers, perhaps, or a quiet field untouched by stone walls. Somewhere she could spend the entire night watching these lights up close. So she could finally find out what they were.

Closing her eyes, she wished upon whichever star might be listening to her. Returning the bellows to its place beside the hearth, she caught sight of the paint staining her fingers. Her mother disliked untidiness, regardless of how hard she worked to keep the tower in order.

Crossing to the wash basin, she reached for the luffa she had spent the morning de-seeding and drying. The rough fibres scraped at her skin as she scrubbed at the dark paint gathered around her cuticles. Again and again she rubbed, until her fingertips stung and turned pink.

Still, the paint clung stubbornly to her skin.

She had just begun scrubbing again when a voice rang through the tower.

"y/n!"

She looked up in alarm. She had no time to finish tidying.

"y/n, let down your hair!"

Quickly draining the basin, she returned the luffa to its place before calling back, "Coming, Mother!"

She was home early today.

y/n hurried around the tower, giving it one final sweep to ensure everything met her mother's exacting standards. As she rushed to the windowsill, she caught the faint sound of muttering drifting up the tower wall. Something about how she wasn't getting any younger standing outside.

Gathering the length of her hair in practiced hands, she secured it around the iron hook fixed above the frame and let the silken strands spill over the ledge below.

A sharp tug followed.

She tightened her grip and pulled, hand over hand, straining as the weight below grew heavier. The familiar burn spread through her arms, but she barely noticed it anymore. She had done this thousands of times. As she neared the top, her mother's figure appeared in the window frame. With surprising ease, she hoisted herself onto the sill and stepped inside.

"Hi, welcome home mother."

"Oh, darling, look at you."

"How you manage to do that every single day without fail, it looks absolutely exhausting, darling."

"It's nothing mother," she smiled softly at her mother as she hung up her dark cloak moving towards her.

"Well I don't know why it takes so long!" Her mother sang, voice saccharine as she booped her nose lightly.

Before y/n could say a word, her mother swept her into an embrace.

"You know I'm just teasing, darling!"

Pulling back, she cupped y/n's face between her hands, squishing her cheeks together as though she were still a child.

"What have you made for lunch, dear?"

y/n glanced up at her with a small smile.

"Hazelnut soup. I used those parsnips you brought me last week."

Her mother's gaze drifted toward the little kitchen, settling on the pot simmering over the fire.

A pleased smile spread across her face.

"I thought I smelt something delicious."

She stepped back lightly scanning over her daughter's figure, scanning for any hint of something out of order, she harshly tugged her hands up to her face. Her face hardened into a scowl at the dark blue stains on her fingertips.

"Wash your hands, y/n. Honestly."

She dropped her hands with a sharp click of her tongue, as though the paint staining her fingers were an embarrassment rather than the result of a day's work.

A hand came down atop y/n's head.

Not affectionate. Appraising.

It lingered a little too long before her mother turned her by the shoulder and moved her aside.

"Honestly, what would you do without me?"

Then she swept past her and disappeared into her room.

y/n let out an exasperated sigh before making her way back to the basin, determined to scrub the remaining paint from her hands before her mother came back down for lunch.

The conversation at their lunch was dull. y/n had drifted in and out of it, only half-listening as her mother filled the space with her usual self-assured monologue. There wasn't much for her to add anyway, most days blurred into the same quiet routine, and her mother had never been particularly interested in what she had to say.

When the meal had been cleared away, the woman settled into her chair by the fireplace, expecting y/n to revive the fire and warm the room. At once, she obeyed. A foot hooked around her ankle before she could straighten. She was pulled back and guided down to the floor at her mother's feet.

The heat from the flames pressed against her skin, too close, too sharp. She shifted uncomfortably as a brush was drawn through her hair.

"Sit still, y/n."

Hands clamped onto her shoulders, holding her in place. A sharp click of the tongue followed, and the brushing resumed, firm and unrelenting. The brush snagged at knots, pulling at her scalp.

She winced, eyes squeezing shut.

Her mother was never as gentle as she used to be.

"You've been spending too much time sitting by that window."

Another harsh tug.

y/n winced.

"It's no wonder you're looking a little softer these days."

The brush caught in a knot.

"Not that it matters. It's not as though anyone sees you but me."

A laugh slipped from her lips, light and dismissive.

"Though perhaps that's for the best. The world can be terribly unkind to girls who don't take care of themselves."

The brush dragged through another knot.

"You should be grateful I keep you here. Out there, people notice every flaw. Every imperfection. Men especially. They don't need permission to rape a pretty girl like you, especially once she's away from safety."

Her hand settled briefly atop y/n's head.

"I only tell you these things because I love you, dear."

y/n turned to face her mother, who cupped her cheeks gently in her hands.

"I know, Mother," she sighed softly, fidgeting as she avoided her mother's steady gaze. "Mother... you know how my birthday is tomorrow?"

"No, no, no, can't be. I distinctly remember your birthday was last year," her mother replied sweetly, smoothing her thumbs over her skin.

"That's the funny thing about birthdays... they're kind of an annual thing."

"Mother, I'm turning twenty. And what I really wanted to ask." she exhaled, frustrated, fingers twisting nervously in her dress. "What I've wanted for quite a few birthdays now—"

"y/n, please. None of that mumbling," her mother interrupted lightly, waving a hand. "You know how I feel about the mumbling. 'Blah, blah, blah, blah.'"

She laughed to herself, pinching y/n's cheeks. "It's very annoying. I'm only teasing, you're adorable." And just like that, she moved away to unpack her basket as if nothing had been said.

y/n slumped where she stood.

Then, suddenly—

"I want to see the floating lights!"

Her mother's hand froze mid-motion. The apple slipped slightly in her grip.

"...What?"

"Well, I was hoping you'd take me to see them," y/n pressed, stepping onto her mother's chair and pulling back the curtain to reveal the painting above the mantle. A night sky of swirling blues and pinks, yellow lights scattered across it, and a tiny figure of herself standing beneath them.

"Oh, you mean the stars, y/n," her voice sounded as if it were to shut her down.

"See that's the thing," she pointed to a painting high on the ceiling across from them, constellations of all sorts scattered across them, "I've charted stars and they're always constant, but these appear every year on my birthday, mother. Only on my birthday. And I can't help but feel like... they're meant for me."

"I need to see them, mother. Not just from the window. In person. I have to know what they are." Her voice wavered in a pleading fashion.

"You want to go outside."

The tone had shifted.

Her mother crossed the room and slammed the shutters. The tower plunged into darkness.

y/n stiffened, stumbling down from the chair. A match struck behind her, alerting her to her mother's whereabouts.

"You already know how dangerous the world out there is. I've told you countless times."

Candles flared to life one by one.

"There are ruffians and thugs out there," her mother continued, circling her, "men who would do terrible things to a girl like you."

She caught y/n's chin and turned her toward the mirror.

"Naive. Immature. Clumsy."

Their reflections stared back at them.

"They'd eat you up alive, y/n."

A pause.

"I'm telling you this because I love you, darling."

"I understand, Mother," y/n said quietly.

Her mother pulled her into an embrace before casting her eyes down at her daughter, voice firm and harsh.

"You will never ask to leave this tower again."

"Yes, Mother," she whispered.

The words tasted heavier than they should have, they lingered.

"Good."

And with that, her mother made her way back to the window, y/n gathering the length of her hair in practiced hands shortly after. It wasn't fair. Her mother came and went as she pleased, wandering forests and villages and distant roads, while y/n remained behind.

"Tata! I'll see you in a bit, my flower!"

From the forest floor, her mother waved cheerfully.

"I'll be here," y/n whispered softly.

As her mother disappeared behind the ivy and undergrowth, the smile slipped from her face. With a weary sigh, she settled onto the windowsill, her legs dangling over the edge. A gentle breeze toyed with the loose strands of her hair, brushing against her skin before drifting away.

It was the closest thing she had to feeling like she'd be free.

Alarms rang out across the kingdom as three men tore through the cobbled streets, shoving townspeople aside in their rush toward the bridge out of Corona. The forest lay just beyond it but the sound of pounding hooves and shouting guards closed in behind them.

The reason was simple.

Three thieves, short on gold. The easiest solution was always the same. Steal something worth more than they could ever earn in a lifetime. And in the kingdom of Corona, nothing was worth more than the lost princess's tiara.

Not that she needed it anyway, that was Jeongguk's thinking, at least. Eighteen years missing tended to lead to one logical conclusion: she was gone. Dead, buried somewhere in the forest if he had to guess. If anything, he suspected the royal family had played a hand in it, and the festival celebrating her absence was probably nothing more than a carefully maintained illusion of guilt.

Jeongguk was lost in thought before it hit him. The other two were no longer in front of him. A beat of confusion flickered through his focus.

He slowed.

Then stopped.

A calloused hand shot out from the brush and yanked him sideways. He barely had time to react before the royal guards thundered past, crashing deeper into the forest without noticing them hidden in the undergrowth.

Jeongguk remained still for a moment after the guards had passed, thorns digging into his skin as he listened for any sign they had doubled back.

A rustle sounded beside him.

Namjoon and Hoseok emerged from the brush, brushing leaves and dirt from their clothes before continuing deeper into the forest as if nothing had happened.

Jeongguk quickly scrambled to his feet and followed after them.

Brothers, the two claimed to be. Not by blood, but they may as well have been. The pair had grown up side by side in the same orphanage, abandoned young and inseparable ever since. That was where Jeongguk had met them years ago, and somehow their friendship had developed into a life of crime.

Their latest venture had easily been their most ambitious. Sneaking across the castle rooftops. Scaling walls. Crossing impossible gaps. And, naturally, lowering Jeongguk through a skylight by rope. Personally, he thought Namjoon should have been the one dangling several stories above the palace floor. Unfortunately, the brothers had a policy whenever they worked together.

They stuck together.

Which usually left Jeongguk with the dangerous jobs.

A fact he was beginning to resent.

Ahead of him, Namjoon ducked beneath a low branch. Tall and broad-shouldered, years of manual labour and thievery had built muscle onto his lanky frame. Beside him, Hoseok was shorter and stockier, his face marked by old scars. Between the two, Jeongguk found Hoseok far more intimidating.

As they passed a particularly thick oak, something nailed to the trunk caught Jeongguk's eye.

He stopped.

"No, no, no, no. This is bad. This is really bad."

Namjoon and Hoseok turned.

Jeongguk ripped the parchment from the tree and thrust it towards them.

WANTED

DEAD OR ALIVE

JEON JEONGGUK

THIEF

The likeness staring back at him was awful.

Before either man could speak, Jeongguk groaned.

"They just can't get my nose right."

"Who cares?" Hoseok scoffed.

Jeongguk looked between the two brothers and pointed accusingly at their own wanted posters nailed nearby.

"That's easy for you to say! You both look amazing."

With a dramatic sigh, he crumpled the poster and shoved it in the satchel.

Before anyone could respond, the sound of galloping hooves echoed through the trees.

All three men froze.

Atop a ridge overlooking the forest, royal guards appeared on horseback.

And they were looking directly at them.

The three men burst into a sprint, though they didn't get far before a towering rock face rose before them, cutting off their path.

Dead end.

"Alright, okay. Give me a boost and I'll pull you both up," Jeongguk said quickly, already assessing the situation as the sound of approaching guards echoed through the trees.

Namjoon and Hoseok exchanged a look.

"Give us the satchel first."

Namjoon's hand extended expectantly.

Jeongguk pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"After everything we've been through together, you don't trust me?"

The two stared back at him blankly.

Namjoon's hand didn't move.

"Ouch."

With an exaggerated sigh, Jeongguk handed over the satchel.

He knew exactly how this worked. If the roles were reversed, they wouldn't hesitate to leave him behind. Years together had taught him that much.

Trust had never been a big part of the arrangement.

Hoseok crouched, Namjoon climbed onto his shoulders, and moments later Jeongguk was being boosted up after them. His fingers found purchase against the stone as he hauled himself onto the ledge above.

Below him, the brothers waited.

Namjoon stretched out an arm.

"Now help us up, pretty boy."

Jeongguk glanced down at them.

Then at his own hands, where the satchel that sat on Namjoons shoulder moments ago, now was clutched tightly between his fingers.

Then back at them again.

A grin spread slowly across his face.

"Sorry."

"My hands are full."

"JEONGGUK!"

Their furious shouts echoed through the forest.

Laughing, Jeongguk swung the satchel over his shoulder and took off running. The brothers' curses followed after him.

Good.

With any luck, the guards would catch them first. Then he'd have the crown all to himself and he'd never have to split a single coin with either of them ever again.

He only realised he was still being pursued when a volley of crossbow bolts buried themselves in the tree ahead of him.

Jeongguk skidded to a stop, then immediately bolted again as another shot cracked through the air. He darted through the forest, taking sharp turns and leaping over broken tree branches, doing everything he could to stay ahead.

But one horse was faster and smarter than the rest.

It seemed the head guard was directly on his trail at first, but as Jeongguk slipped down a steep slope, the horse followed seconds later, now without its rider, who been flung off during a sharp corner.

Jeongguk allowed himself a brief breath of relief.

That was a mistake.

The stallion was relentless. It kept pace through the terrain, nipping at the satchel as he ran, its hooves thundering dangerously close behind him.

"Seriously?" Jeongguk muttered, twisting mid-run to swat it away.

At that exact moment, he lost his footing.

Neither he nor the horse were looking where they were going as they tumbled down the steep ravine, separating in different directions as they rolled to the bottom. When Jeongguk finally came to a stop on flat ground, every muscle in his body ached. Still, he pushed himself upright and hurried behind a large rock near a wall of thick ivy. For a moment, there was nothing but silence.

Then the horse emerged.

It stood just beyond the trees, nose low to the ground, sniffing carefully as it tracked him.

Jeongguk held his breath.

The stallion passed.

It didn't see him. He exhaled slowly, backing further into the rock. Only for it not to be a rock at all. Jeongguk fell backwards through the ivy with a muffled curse. A loud neigh snapped behind him.

The horse had heard.

He scrambled deeper into the space, pressing himself into the shadows until the clopping of hooves finally faded again. Only then did he dare move. Further in, the narrow passage opened unexpectedly into open air.

Jeongguk froze.

In the centre of the ravine stood a towering structure, old, weathered, and half-consumed by ivy. A waterfall thundered behind it, spilling into a river that wound away through the cliffs.

It was perfect.

Somewhere to lay low. Somewhere to disappear for a few days until the search died down. And, most importantly, somewhere far away from that infuriating horse. He could still hear it somewhere in the forest, neighing in frustrated circles. Jeongguk sighed, already done with it.

Pulling two arrows from his quiver, he tested them against the stone and began to climb. The rock face was steep, but stable enough, he wedged the arrowheads into the crevices and hauled himself upward. It wasn't his first climb. He'd scaled the castle earlier that morning, and this was just another wall.

Just another job.

He was fine.

He reached the window ledge after a gruellingly long climb and pulled himself up, breath heavy in his chest. With a sharp tug, he forced the shutters closed behind him before leaning back to catch his breath.

Silence.

Finally.

He glanced down at the satchel in his hands, the stolen gems catching what little light filtered through the cracks.

A satisfied smile tugged at his lips.

"Finally. Alone at last."

BONK.

you paced around your bedroom nervously, grabbing your makeup brush from the vanity on the way to the mirror one more time to fix your blush. it was probably the third or fourth time you were doing it, and obviously it still looked the same, but you were trying, in a foolish attempt, to make yourself look not like yourself.

you smoothed your hands over your shirt one more time before checking your hair again, then checking your phone, then the mirror, then your phone again, because even though the message he’d sent the night before clearly said he’d be there around noon, you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering exactly when that would be.

jungkook wasn’t the kind of person who sent updates. he wasn’t going to text you that he was on his way and he wasn’t going to tell you how many minutes away he was. he would simply appear, and that gave you the worst anxiety every time.

all of a sudden, the low rumble of a motorcycle drifted through the open crack of your window and your entire body froze. before your brain could catch up, you embarrassingly crossed the room at what felt like the speed of light and reached the window almost instantly, pulling the curtain aside and looking down just in time to see the familiar black motorcycle turn into the driveway, sunlight catching briefly against the metal before jungkook slowed to a stop.

your stomach tightened immediately, just like every other time. it didn’t matter how often you saw him, or that you’d known he was coming, or that you had spent half the morning preparing for this exact moment, somehow the sight of him always made your pulse jump.

jungkook killed the engine and removed his helmet. he ran a hand through his dark hair, messy and slightly damp from the heat, then looked up towards your room almost immediately, as though he had known from the start that you would be waiting there. the grin that spread across his face confirmed it.

you clenched your legs together in anticipation. just the mere sight of him, black shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, tattoos visible beneath the tight rolled sleeves and motorcycle between his legs, it was enough to send you into a spiral.

trying not to smile back, you pushed the window open and leaned slightly outside, the warm breeze brushing against your face while he tilted his head farther back to look at you.

“rapunzel, rapunzel, let down your hair.” he said mockingly, laughing at his own joke.

you rolled your eyes and let out a small chuckle. “you’re so stupid.”

“you’re in a giant tower, i’m down here, all we’re missing is the hair” he gestured dramatically towards your window.

“it’s my house, not a tower.”

“it’s basically a tower”

“it’s not”

“then explain why i’m having to communicate with you from twenty feet below”

you shook your head, trying not to smile as he grinned up at you.

“you know, i’ve told you before not to park in the driveway.”

jungkook glanced over at his bike. “why not?”

“my parents could see you.”

“didn’t you say they wouldn’t be home today?” he frowned his eyebrow.

“yeah but—“

“then what’s the problem?” you sighed at the interruption, defeated.

he lifted his leg over the bike, stepping out and placing the helmet over the rearview mirror.

“now come on baby, be a good girl and come open this door for me.” he didn’t even look at you, walking right towards the front door.

your cheeks burned up once you felt the wetness starting to pool in your panties. it was embarrassing how much his simple words affected you. you knew he had you wrapped around his finger.

you ran to the door, trying not to trip on your way down the stairs, stopping right in front of it just to fix your hair one more time before slowly opening the big block of wood.

he was leaning slightly against the door frame, so close you had to take a step back. he looked up at you, his eyes dark and steady. he didn’t speak at first, just letting the silence sit there between you while his gaze slowly traced over your face like he was making sure you were real.

you swallowed dry, forcing your voice to work properly. “what?”

he smiled, a tiny smile on the corner of his lips. “you look pretty.”

you felt your cheeks burning again, and you were sure he noticed too. you fumbled nervously with the hem of your skirt, looking down at the floor to avoid eye contact. but quickly enough jungkook was taking one step closer, his hand reaching under your chin, his thumb on one side and the rest of his fingers on the other, squeezing your cheeks together slightly and forcing you to look up at him.

“you know i don’t like when you avoid me.” he shook his head slowly in disapproval and for some reason you felt this sense of shame, as if you had wronged him in the worst way possible.

“sorry.” you said, almost as a whisper.

he slowly let go of your face, his eyes still locked on yours, and this time you forced yourself not to look the opposite direction.

“that’s my girl.” there was that smirk again, a mixture of proud and evil.

you suddenly snapped to reality, pulling him in by his wrist “come in before the neighbours see you.” and shutting the door behind him.

he laughed, throwing his head back. “do you think they’re gonna hunt me down if they see me here?” he joked.

you rolled your eyes. “you know i’ll get in trouble if word gets around that you’ve been coming here while my parents are gone.” you hesitated. “…they hate you.”

he frowned. “they never met me.”

“they hate guys like you.” you gestured to him. “it’s unthinkable for their daughter to be dating a guy like you.” you said sarcastically.

he smirked. “oh are we dating now?”

you hit his chest making him stumble back, his laugh echoing through the house. “you know what i mean… asshole.” you whispered that last part.

“what did you say?” his eyebrow raised, his voice calm and steady, his feet stepping closer to you again.

“nothing.” you chuckled slightly, trying to hide your smile while you stepped back further away from him but his body was much taller than you, towering over you and your stomach twisted at the sight.

“such a filthy mouth huh?” suddenly he grabbed your wrist, pulling you forcefully against his chest, closing the gap between you, his eyes burning into yours. “say that again.” his voice was threatening but still calm. you knew he wasn’t actually mad, the small curl on the corner of his mouth giving it away. he was playing with you, teasing you.

“wanna watch a movie?” you smiled innocently, changing the subject quickly.

he chuckled, releasing the grip on your wrist slightly. “if that’s what you want, baby.”

“come on.” this time you were the one holding onto his wrist, pulling him with you up the stairs. “my parents bought me a new tv for my bedroom, its huge.” you said excitingly, which seemed to amuse him since you heard a small laugh behind you.

“spoiled as always.”

“shut up.” you quickly reached your bedroom, jungkook following after you.

he never quite got used to the size of it. it made no sense to him how big it was, especially since he lived in the smallest apartment known to man, it was all he could afford, but at least he had his own place all to himself. he still asked you from time to time how you handled still living with your parents. it was unthinkable for him to still live with his, he would rather die.

“isn’t it so cool?” you said, taking a small jump next to the big tv. he found your excitement rather cute.

“so cool princess.” he wasn’t mocking you or teasing you. he loved seeing your genuine smile whenever he agreed with you or encouraged you.

“oh…” you looked around your room, searching for something. jungkook’s gaze followed yours, confused. “i think my parents left the remote at their room. my dad was checking something yesterday.” you made your way out of the bedroom. “i’ll go get it, just stay here.”

and with that you walked a few steps down the hallway and into your parents’ bedroom. if jungkook thought your room was big, then he would be flabbergasted at the sheer size of this one. it looked like a dining hall but with a bed instead of a table.

you searched over the desk, moving a couple things to the side until you saw the small remote over at the corner, grabbing it quickly.

to your surprise, once you turned around, jungkook was standing right in the middle of the room, his mouth agape, staring around, a dumbfounded expression splattered all over his face.

“was this really necessary?” he took a few steps forward, still analysing the furniture around him. “why do two people need this much space?” he shook his head slightly, stunned.

“i told you to stay in the bedroom.” you whined, walking over towards him.

“what’s the problem?” he sank down onto the bed, bouncing slightly, testing the mattress. “soft, it’s nice.” he grinned at you.

“jungkook!” you went over to him, trying to pull him by his wrist but failing. he was naturally much stronger than you, he didn’t even flinch. “get up from there, i’m being serious.”

“oh baby, you’re so scary when you’re being serious.” he mocked, chuckling.

you rolled your eyes and before you could continue complaining, you felt his hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you in between his legs, your bare ones rubbing slightly against the rough material of his jeans. you were now face to face with him, unable to escape, his grip tight on you.

“don’t get upset baby.” his voice was softer now, almost melodic, his lips landing softly against your collarbone, planting a kiss there that made your body shiver.

“jungkook—“

“shh…” another kiss, this time higher, at the base of your neck. your eyes fluttered shut, your hands squeezing the fabric of his shirt on his shoulders.

“let’s go back to my room.” your voice was shaky, your mind starting to fade.

“i don’t want to.” he muttered against your neck, trailing kisses over your skin, wetter, open mouth kisses now. “i want to have you here.”

you gasped, his lips and teeth pulling at the skin, sucking harder. you knew that was gonna leave a mark there and more importantly, he knew it too.

“jungk—“ his tongue traced your skin. “we can’t… please.” you begged, the pool of wetness inside your panties contradicting your words.

“want me to stop?” his fingers slowly went up the back of your bare thighs, teasingly slow, reaching just slightly under the hem of your skirt and kneading at the skin softly.

you squeezed your legs together in reflex and heard him chuckle at the reaction.

“no…” so soft it was barely audible.

“that’s what i thought. good girl.” his hands reached the back of your head, his fingers mingling between the strands of your hair, pulling you flush against him, forcing your lips into a deep kiss, his tongue immediately slipping past them.

you felt that familiar pulse between your legs and moaned softly against his lips.

you couldn’t believe you were doing this here, in your parents’ bedroom. the ideia of it was filthy, dirty, but somehow it turned you on even more, the thrill of it making you increasingly excited.

“you wanna be fucked so bad, don’t you baby?” he muttered between kisses, giving you some room to catch your breath, barely.

his hands wandered down again, this time squeezing your ass tightly, making you whine.

you couldn’t make sense of words, everything was a blur in your mind, so you just nodded your head eagerly in response.

“yeah i know baby.” it came out of his lips almost like a moan. you knew he was painfully hard already. just the thought of it made you salivate. “such a little slut, aren’t you?”

you nodded again, he chuckled, evil. his hands held your waist tightly, pulling you to sit on his lap, one leg on either side of him, and there it was. your thoughts confirmed. his hard on pressing against his jeans, ready to burst, and you let out the lewdest moan when he pressed you down against it, your clothed pussy rubbing deliciously against the rough material.

he guided your hips back and forth on his bulge, your wetness slipping through your panties and onto him, leaving a small stain, barely noticeable against the dark color of his jeans, but you felt embarrassed at how ready you were already, so ready for him.

“get on your knees.” his voice was low, and you were surprised at how steady it still was, considering you were a fucking mess already.

he didn’t need to repeat it twice, you willingly got up and dropped to your knees in front of him, positioning your body between his legs, and placing your hands on his thighs. he looked down at you, his lips flushed red, his eyes so dark you could barely see any white in them.

“you want this cock, baby?” he rubbed his hand over his bulge, squeezing slightly and your mouth watered.

“yeah…” you whispered, doe eyes looking up at him.

“want it in your mouth, huh?” you bit your bottom lip in anticipation and nodded your head eagerly.

a big smirk splattered all over his lips and with just one hand he unbuckled his belt. the sound of the buckle alone made you grip harder at his legs, your nails digging slightly and your stomach twisting in anticipation.

he unzipped his pants and slipped his hand covered in tattoos inside, pulling his cock free. your mouth watered at the sight of it, hard, thick, pulsing lightly, his tip already glistening.

he moved his hand slowly up and down on his shaft. “open up baby.” you complied instantly, parting your lips and sticking out your tongue slightly, ready to take him. “good girl.” he said lustfully, tapping the tip of his cock on your tongue, a string of spit and pre cum attaching your tongue to him.

“you’re gonna take all of it, do you understand?” his other hand made its way to the back of your head, holding a handful of your hair and pulling back slightly, making you whine. “you want it don’t you, slut.” the degrading name made you pulse and you nodded as you wrapped your lips around his cock, sucking in the tip, earning a low guttural grunt from jungkook, his eyes fluttering close.

you worked your tongue around the tip, slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth. he swayed his arm back, hand resting on the mattress behind him, relaxing his body and taking in the view of your pretty lips wrapped around him. it was something he couldn’t get enough of.

you felt his other hand pushing your head forward slightly, giving you time to adjust. you knew you only had a very short amount of time before the gentleness vanished. you bobbed your head up and down while jungkook moaned softly between his teeth.

“you’re taking it so well baby, that’s it.” he encouraged you, the grip on your hair getting tighter, and you felt him forcing your head down more, until your lips were right at the base of his cock, feeling his tip hitting the back of your throat. he kept your head there for a moment, his hand not letting you move at all, his eyes staring straight into yours with a lustfull shine to them, and you saw his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, containing a moan from slipping out.

“fuck baby…” he breathed out. “you look so pretty with your mouth full of my cock.”

your wetness was starting to drip down the side of your legs, his words making you want to show him how good you could be, you wanted to make him proud so bad.

without warning he started to thrust into your mouth, slowly at first, but as soon as he felt the vibration of your moans around him, and the tears starting to build up on the corners of your eyes, he couldn’t keep it in anymore, he had to ruin you.

he started thrusting faster, harder, and you tried your best not to gag at the force of his cock hitting the back of throat aggressively. his grunts and moans encouraged you to keep going, even tho it was jungkook doing the work for the most part, his hips moving up while his fingers on your hair kept you in place, fucking your mouth relentlessly.

a tear rolled down your cheek and he pulled your head back, a thick strip of spit connecting your lips to the tip of his cock making you gasp, finally being able to catch your breath.

you immediately stuck your tongue out one more time, reaching over to take him in his mouth again but he stopped you by pulling your hair back with force, making your head tilt up slightly, a whimper leaving your lips.

“so eager for my cock, huh? dirty little slut” he smirked looking down at the mess you’d become, planting a small slap on your cheek. “i have other plans for you. get up.” his voice was assertive and you immediately complied, standing up and looking at him waiting for further instructions.

he took a minute staring at you, his eyes moving from your face all the way down to your feet and back up at your eyes, and you could see the mischief in them, which made you both excited and nervous for what was to come.

“strip for me, princess. slowly.” your cheeks immediately burned up at the thought of being observed like that.

“mhm—“ you couldn’t even get started on your sentence, jungkook sighed in disappointment and looked to the side, shaking is head.

“you were being such a good girl.” his eyes caught yours again, but this time he seemed annoyed, almost mad, which made your stomach twist. “you’re gonna make me repeat myself?”

there was a moment of silence between you, his eyebrow raising impatiently, and instead of responding, your fingers made their way to the buttons of your shirt, starting to open one by one. you noticed the smirk forming on his lips again, which made you try to hide your own smile, slightly embarrassed at the exposure.

“what about you?” you asked while you slipped your shirt over your shoulders, letting it hit the floor at your feet.

he chuckled, his head tilting slightly to the side, his eyes trailing down your body. “i see someone already forgot their place. do i have to show you who’s in charge here? you seem to have forgotten, baby.”

your hands shook when they got to the skirt, pulling it down your legs, your feet stepping out of it. “no.” you cursed yourself for not being able to keep your voice steady, giving away just how nervous you were, all exposed like this in front of him. you could feel his eyes eating you up.

“are you sure?” he gestured with his finger for you to step closer and you did. you almost stopped in your tracks when he suddenly got up, his body towering over you. “if you question me one more time i won’t go easy on you, princess.” his finger tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and then smoothed the back of his hand over your cheek. “but maybe that’s what you want huh? wanna be a bad girl today? wanna be fucked like the whore you are?” you clenched around nothing at his filthy words, a slight whine escaping your lips without warning.

suddenly his fingers wrapped around your arm tightly, flipping you around and throwing you onto the bed, making you gasp.

“spread those legs. now.” his gaze was back to a dark color, and you felt eaten alive by them.

you timidly spread your legs in front of him, the large wet stain in your panties confirming what he was already expecting; you were dripping for him already.

“god baby, you really love getting your mouth fucked, don’t you?” he kneeled on top of the bed in front of you and you winced when he trailed a finger over your clothed folds.

“wanna taste you so bad baby.” his words were full of a lust. “you want that? want me to eat that little pussy of yours?” you whimpered in response, biting your bottom lip to keep you from moaning.

“yes kook… please.” you sounded pathetic begging for him, but he loved every second of it. he loved having you vulnerable and desperate for him. he loved having this control over you. he loved corrupting what was usually such a sweet and innocent girl into the slut you became for him.

his fingers wrapped around the sides of your panties, pulling them slowly down your legs, exposing your bare cunt, glistening and dripping with your juices, a sight that made him lick his lips in anticipation. he lowered himself on the bed, his face close enough that you could feel the cold air of his breath against your folds. he placed his hands under your thighs, pushing them up until you were all spread out for him, his grip so tight you couldn’t move even if you tried.

“so fucking wet.” his tongue took a long strip up your slit making you jolt and moan, but his hands kept you in place. he teased you by placing small kisses on your inner thighs, getting closer to where you wanted him most but never fully getting there.

“jk please… want your mouth.” you whined, now being your turn to wrap your fingers in his hair, trying to push his head closer to you but you weren’t nearly strong enough.

you heard him chuckle. “don’t even need to tell you to beg huh?” he spit on your pussy, your body pulsing at the feeling of it sliding over your hole. “who what’ve thought? so innocent when i met you…” his thumb picked up the dripping spit mixed with your juices, smearing it over your clit. “now you’re begging to be fucked in your parents’ room like a slut.” you could tell by his smirk that this was beyond amusing to him, and even tho you felt ashamed that he was right, you didn’t wanna stop. you never wanted to stop.

finally you felt his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking slightly before lapping at your cunt, until he had you squirming under him, your fingers squeezing his hair even harder, making him hiss.

while he worked at your clit, you felt his middle finger enter you slowly, the feeling making you throw your head back and gasp while he started pumping it in and out of you, painfully slow.

just the feeling of his tongue on you was overwhelming, your body shaking and contorting as he picked up pace, lapping vigorously at your clit while his finger curled at just the perfect spot.

suddenly you felt a second finger being inserted, stretching you further, pumping deeper inside you, and the moan it ripped from you was embarrassingly pornographic. heat coiled at the pit of your stomach, your hole clenching around his fingers trying desperately to take more of him. you made the mistake of propping yourself up a little bit, looking down at the sight below you, because what you saw was enough to send you over the edge. jungkook was looking straight into your eyes, dark and lustfull, a faint smirk on his lips as his tongue wrapped and licked over your clit, your juices pooling up on top of it and he gladly took every bit into his mouth. the tattoos on his digits disappearing inside your hole as the ones on his other hand gripped firmly under your thigh, keeping your knee pushed back all the way to your chest.

you bit your lip so hard it almost bled, in a pathetic attempt to keep your moans and whimpers from leaving your mouth but it was in vain. you couldn’t keep it in anymore, it was too much. your eyes fluttered closed and you tilted your head back with pleasure, your hand pushing his head further down into your cunt, fingers pulling so hard on his hair you were scared you were going to rip them off.

“gonna cum baby?” he asked between licks, sucking harshly on your clit, the thrust of his fingers getting quicker.

“ye— yeah… please…” your words were shaky, barely understandable. “wann—a cum.”

“look at me princess.”

you forced your eyes open, barely, looking down at him and seeing his burning into yours. you could feel it building, you were so dangerously close.

he nodded his head at you, his tongue and fingers vigorously working at you, and you knew you had the permission you needed to do what you were trying so hard to hold back.

your orgasm washed over you, so intense your whole body shake, and you caught a glimpse of what seemed a proud look on jungkook’s eyes before letting your head fall back into the bed, your eyes closing, a prolonged moan escaping your lips. your body tried contorting around but you felt both of his hands holding you down, and that’s when you realised his fingers weren’t inside you anymore, only his tongue lapping eagerly at your hole, collecting every last bit of cum you had to give him.

for a moment you thought you had transcended into another dimension, your mind completely faded, gone. suddenly you felt his body hovering over you and you slowly opened your eyes to be greeted with a huge grin on his face, your juices glistening all over his lips and chin. you saw him rubbing the back of his hand over his mouth, attempting to clean some of the mess you left on him but it wasn’t enough for you not to taste yourself when he kissed your lips, open mouth, messy, tongue touching yours softly. he was showing you exactly what you’d done to him, and you felt dirty, a feeling you hated to admit made you even hornier, if that was possible.

he removed his lips from you and for a moment he just stood there, looking down at your fucked up state, his hand coming up to brush away a strand of hair from your face.

“you ok?” he chuckled.

you faintly nodded your head, your fingers trailing over his biceps on either side of your head, feeling him close.

“i’m not done with you yet.” his voice was calm, soft, brushing on the sweet side. “understand?”

you shot your eyes up at him, his grin had disappeared now, replaced with that familiar dark and steady look. now that you could observe him better, you noticed you had left his hair a mess. the dark strands were falling carelessly over his forehead, the rest of his hair disheveled, and somehow he looked even hotter like that.

he straightened his body, standing on just his knees in between your legs. he lifted his shirt up over his head, tossing it somewhere you didn’t care about. without even realising, your hands moved on their own, running your fingers down his exposed abs. his tattoos were now on full show, covering part of his shoulder and all the way down his right arm.

“like what you see, huh baby?” he smirked, placing his own hand over yours, encouraging you to drop lower. “want me to take these off too?” he stopped your hand right at the hem of his jeans and you noticed he had tucked his cock back in his briefs. you whined at the realisation.

“take them off.” you said almost as a complaint, your eyebrows frowning, which earned a short laugh from him.

he got up from the bed, sliding his pants down, standing with just his underwear now, a pair of black calvin klein boxer briefs.

“the underwear too.” you shot at him and he raised his eyebrow, taking one step closer.

“you think you can boss me around?” his hand wrapped around your neck, not to the point of chocking but a firm grip on it, pulling your body slightly forward. “you’re forgetting your place again.” he tilted his head, his face so close to yours that you could feel his breathing. with his other hand, he reached behind your back, unhooking your bra with ease and removing it from your body, leaving you now completely naked.

your body shivered at the thought of being completely naked in front of him, your legs squeezing together to relief some tension.

“maybe you don’t get to get fucked, what do you think?” your eyes widened at his statement, your head shaking quickly.

“no, no! i’m sorry.” you tried coming closer to him but the grip on your neck got tighter, keeping you in place.

“i don’t know… you’re not really behaving that well, telling me what to do.” you started feeling your wetness dripping from your hole again, your clit pulsing at his words. god he was such a tease.

“i’ll be a good girl, promise.” you pleaded as your eyes glistened with the thought of not having him inside you.

he stepped back, removing his hand from your neck but leaving a faint shade of red around it. he ran his fingers through his hair, looking down at you and then around the room.

“i just don’t think you deserve it anymore, baby.” his hand palmed himself through his underwear, the outline of his cock so clear through the fabric, and panic settled in you.

“no please!” you cried out, kneeling down on the bed, your hands resting in front of you on the mattress. “i deserve it, please, i’ll show you. i can be a good girl.” you felt your eyes watering and jungkook’s cock pulsed at the sight of you. “i’m sorry i told you what to do.” you crawled closer to him, your hand replacing his on his bulge, stroking him through the fabric. he groaned under his breath.

“you’re such a whore.” he murmured, his hand caressing the back of your head. “how much do you want this cock?” his lids were heavy.

“i want it so bad.” you whimpered, your fingers hooking under the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down and freeing his throbbing dick, slamming against his lower abs. your tongue ran over your lips before taking a long lick from the base of his cock all the way to the tip, your doe eyes locked with his the entire time.

“fuck baby…” he breathed out, chocking back a moan. “you’re gonna suck it aga— ahh” he moaned as you took him all in your mouth with no warning, gagging as your nose touched his pelvic area, staying still for a moment, your tongue running over his pulsing vein, before you removed your mouth again, staring back at him with watery eyes and the sweetest smile you could mustered.

he tried catching his breath, and you felt a sense of pride when you realized he was rather speechless.

“do i deserve it now?” your voice was sweet, contrasting with what you’d just done. he couldn’t help but let go of a small low laugh, before setting his eyes back on yours, your body flinching slightly and a whine ripping out of you when you felt a slap on your cheek. you chuckled mischievously, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“i’m gonna ruin you, baby. you hear me?” he grabbed you by your chin, his gaze sinking into you. “you’re mine.”

this time you were able to free yourself quick enough to pull yourself up and plant a kiss on his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck just for one second before he quickly grabbed them, turning you around, your face falling head first into the mattress, his hands manhandling you into a doggy position, his hand pressing your head down, giving you no room to move, while the other perked your ass up, your back bending in a way you didn’t think possible.

with no warning he entered you. you released a guttural moan, gasping for air, as he started fucking you senseless. no time to adjust, no slow start, nothing. just deep, hard thrusts, your mind a complete mush, the force of his movements making your ass ripple back into him, the sounds of your skin slapping against each other and the squelch of your wet pussy filling the room entirely.

“such a fucking whore.” he groaned, his fingers intertwining with your hair, forcing your head down and your moans and cries to be muffled by the sheets. “what would your daddy say if he knew his precious daughter was being fucked like this in his bed huh?” you whimpered, his words making your stomach twist, your clit pulsing harder than before. the imagery was as filthy as it could get, but it felt so incredibly good. the sharp sting of a slap in your ass brought you back from your thoughts and you realised you were practically drooling all over the sheets.

“that’s my good little girl.” he was breathless, his thrusts getting harder and deeper. “you take my cock so well, i can’t get enough of this pussy baby.”

you felt it, it was so near you could cry. “kook— please… i’m— uhh” your muffled moans slipped your lips shaken and broken. you couldn’t even from actual words.

“i know baby.” he cooed, this time the grip on your hair softened and he moved the strands away from your face, watching your fucked up face, moaning, drooling, a fucking mess. his cock throbbed inside you. “cum for me ba—by. c’mon.”

that was enough to sent you over the edge. you couldn’t hold it in anymore. your walls clenched around him, your orgasm washing over you for the second time, so intense you forgot about everything around you. a few more thrusts and you suddenly felt empty, a whimper escaping your mouth at the feeling.

“come here baby.” you felt his fingers wrapping around your arm, pulling you back and turning you around on your knees. your head felt lightweight, the room felt too bright to function. “open your mouth.” you forced yourself to look up at jungkook. he was kneeling in front of you, taller, his hand pumping his cock vigorously, wet.

you opened your mouth slightly, your eyes flickering and your tongue sticking out instinctively as he tapped the tip of his cock on it, his hand still working on the rest of his length.

in a brief moment he was cumming all over your tongue, a low grunt slipping from his lips, and you felt the warm thick substance spreading inside your mouth, some spurs landing on your cheek.

“good girl.” he breathed out, coming down from his orgasm. “swallow everything.” you happily complied, swallowing and wrapping your lips around the head of his cock, sucking every last drop he gave you.

he let go of you and you fell sat on the bed, still dazed. his thumb ran over your cheek, collecting a drop of cum that had been left there and forced his digit inside your mouth, to which you sucked eagerly, your eyes locking in with his, a proud smirk on his face.

he kissed your lips softly before getting up from the bed, walking towards the attached bathroom in the room. you laid back in the bed, your hands covering your face and feeling your cheeks burn.

“what have we done, jungkook.” you whined, receiving a small laugh from him as he exited the bathroom again, some paper in his hands.

“you’re gonna tell me you didn’t like it?” he smirked, sitting down next to you. your body flinched when you felt him swiping the paper over your sensitive clit, cleaning you up.

“it’s my parents’ bedroom!” you prompted yourself on your elbows to look at him. “you’re insane!” you shot at him outraged.

there it was that mockingly laugh again. “i don’t remember you ever telling me to stop.”

you knew he was right. it was as much your fault as it was his, if not more.

you quickly got up, grabbing your clothes scattered all over the floor. “quick, help me clean everything up.”

he got dressed as he watched you frantically run around the bed, pulling at the sheets, searching for stains, fluffing the pillows and he grinned. no matter how much he was able to corrupt you during sex, you were always gonna be this girl. worried about your parents, rule abiding, sweet, well behaved good girl. and he loved it.

“gotta go baby.” you stepped closer to you, one hand softly on the back of your head while he planted a kiss on your forehead.

“already?” you whined but quickly caught yourself, not wanting to sound too desperate. “so you just come here to fuck me and then leave? ugh men are all the same.” you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms annoyed.

he chuckled. “i have to work you know?” his fingers brushed under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him. “not everyone is a spoiled little girl.” he tilted his head smirking and you slapped his arm away, walking to the other side of the room, earning a laugh from him. “besides, i thought that was our arrangement.” he frowned his eyebrow. “is it not?”

you swallowed dry, taking in the sight of him. his dark hair messy, his fingers rolling the sleeves of his shirt exposing his tattoos, his jeans still unzipped and unbuckled, showing the hem of his underwear.

you were getting distracted.

“yeah—“ you cleared your throat. “yeah, it is.” your cheeks flushed.

“alright then.” he finished buckling his belt and walked over to you. “walk me to the door?”

you both walked down the stairs in silence, stopping at the front door, where you pulled it open. he took a step outside and turned back around, leaning one of his hands on the door frame and reaching down to kiss you on the lips. you didn’t wanna stop, you could kiss him until your lips got tired, he tasted so good. he pulled away.

“text me when you want this dick again.” he laughed and you slapped his chest, rolling your eyes. “bye baby.” he grabbed your chin and planted one last kiss on your lips before turning around.

suddenly both of you stopped in your tracks as you saw your front neighbour watering his lawn, staring directly at you. your eyes widened, waiting for something to happen… a piano landing on top of you maybe.

to your surprise, jungkook raised his hand at him, waiving slightly, before taking his helmet and placing it on his head. that man was truly unbothered. he got on his motorcycle and turned the engine, rumbling loudly. he waved at you and just as quickly he was out of your sight, the sound of his bike disappearing in the distance.

you glanced back at your neighbour, an old bald guy with a belly so big you could’ve swore he was pregnant if he wasn’t a man. he shook his head at you disappointingly and you nervously smiled, closing the door in front of you.

you leaned back against the door, a long sigh, you didn’t realise you were holding, leaving your lips.

“You’re joking.” All you can do is laugh when he says that. You analyze his face for any hint of kid that he may have intended with his suggestion. Except, there is none. He stares at you with a straight face for the first time since you had run into him again this summer. “You’re not joking.”

Jungkook just stands there and exhales through his nose. His hands slip into his pants pockets as he walks closer to you sitting at the breakfast bar. He doesn’t break eye contact with you while you’d do anything to do so. 

When he reaches the other side of the counter, he takes his hands out of his pockets. Resting his forearms on the cold marble surface, Jungkook leans forward just far enough so that his face is about a foot away from yours. “You don’t want my help?” His big dark brown eyes stare at you as he blinks slowly. 

For the past 24 years, you’ve seen his face at every possible angle. You saw his face when he had acne, when he had bad hair days, when he sleeps and even when his face was just inches from yours. And none of those times did you ever think he’s handsome. 

But why is it now? Why is that opinion changing at this moment? 

“No, it’s not that.” You whisper, feeling your heart race. 

“Then what’s so hard to believe about me being your boyfriend?” His voice purrs while his eyes remain locked onto yours. 

You stay quiet, not knowing what to say. You want to get out of this conversation and this intense situation. You just stare back at him, blinking as he slightly raises his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. 

“Something smells good!” Casey’s voice interrupts the moment. 

Thank god. 

With Jungkook staying in that position, he finally breaks eye contact and peers over to look at your older brother. You spin around in the bar stool to greet your brother with a relieved smile. 

“Wassup, kiddo?” He clicks his tongue and ruffles your hair. “How you doing, man?” He bumps fists with Jungkook before sitting next to at the edge of the breakfast bar. 

“Don’t call me ‘kiddo’.” You frown while fixing your hair. 

“But you are a kid. What else am I supposed to call you?” Casey smirks, teasing you. “Anyway, were you two going to eat that all by yourselves? You mean brats.” 

“You were going to come downstairs even if I didn’t invite you to join us. You always do, Casey. Why are you saying that all of sudden?” You scoff, watching Jungkook open the wrong drawer while looking for utensils. “No, the one on your right.” You point to the drawer next to the one he just opened. 

“What about Spencer? He’s not coming down?” You wanted to share the food with Spencer too, especially since it’s been a while since he’s had a home-cooked meal. 

“He’s still at the hospital. He had one day off and then was back to being on-call. Third-year medical residents aren’t able to come home as often. And even then, he’d probably go to his place. He wouldn’t come all the way here.” Casey sucks his teeth while looking at his younger sister, “Wait, how come you don’t know that he isn’t home? Do you even pay attention to your brothers? You’re too busy bickering with Jungkook all the time, aren’t you?” Your brother wraps his left arm around your neck and pulls your head closer before rubbing his knuckes against the top of your head. 

You groan at the playful display of affection your brother is showing you, annoyed that your hair is messed up, again. 

Jungkook walks over, setting down the utensils on the counter in front of you and your brother. He glances up at you two, smiling to himself. “I think you need to rub her head harder, Casey.” 

You sit up straight again and glare at your brother once he lets you go. “Casey.” You whine but your brother is busy sucking on the tip of the spoon that was in front of him, waiting for the food. “You don’t have to keep staying here. My ankle’s all better now. You can go home, Casey.”

“Mom’s coming home early in the morning tomorrow. I have to go pick her up at JFK airport tomorrow so I thought I’d be easier to crash here tonight since it's closer to the airport.” He speaks with the tip of the spoon still in his mouth. 

“Wow.” Casey’s eyes widen as the sizzling cast iron pan gets brought in front of him. “It’s kimchi fried rice.” 

“I’m sure he messed up again.” You use your spoon to point to the fried rice in the pan while Jungkook bends down to sit down on the other side of the counter. 

“Just shut up and try it, would you?” 

You take a deep breath before taking a spoonful of rice from the top. After letting the spoon hover in front of your mouth for a few seconds, you risk it and put the food in your mouth. Your teeth scrap the rice off the metal spoon before you chew and swallow. 

It’s good. For the first time, it’s good. 

“What the hell?” You stare at the pan as you cannot process what you just tasted. 

“It’s good, right?” Jungkook smiles, proud of the job he’s done. 

“Yeah. How is that possible?” You tilt your head with your eyes still on the rice in the pan, wondering how he made this. Your head jerks in his direction and eyes dart at him, “You used MSG, right?”

“I’m offended that you’d think I’d use MSG in my cooking.” 

“Then how else do you explain how this tastes good?” You raise your eyebrows at him, wanting him to admit that he cheated. “Just admit you used MSG and I’ll let it go.” 

“Hey.” He finishes chewing the food in his mouth. “You’re the one who called me over to make you dinner. So I made you dinner. Now you’re trying to pick a fight over it?” He points his spoon in your direction. 

“Pick a fight? Me?” You scoff, “You little, punk-.”

“Just shut up and eat!” Your brother raises his voice at you and Jungkook. You and him immediately calm down and sit still. Casey exhales through the food in his mouth. “I can’t believe I’m 30 years old and I still have to babysit you two. When will you brats grow up?”

8:00 PM

Jungkook sits up straight, facing forward in the middle of the sofa in the living room, his feet up on the coffee table in front. You are leaning your back against the cushion covering the inner side of the left arm rest. Your legs are propped up on his lap, his left hand relaxed on top of your shins. 

You two are watching The Karate Kid, Part III again, which you had on your DVR. Watching the movie series together was something you two used to always do during this time of year, during summer break. 

It’s 30 minutes into the movie when you take your eyes off of the TV screen and turn to your head to look at his side profile. You pause the movie and bring your upper body forward to sit up. “You’re serious?” 

Jungkook turns his head to his left, staring at you with relaxed eyes. “About what?” 

“About being my boyfriend? You’re serious about that?” Your arms are relaxed in your lap. 

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugs, not thinking much of it. 

“What do you mean, ‘why not?’” 

“Half of our classmates thought we were dating all throughout high school. It wouldn’t even surprise them if you said that I’m your boyfriend.” 

You blink, “So you’re saying that you’re going to be my boyfriend because it’s easy and convenient? You do realize that you’re the one that asked if I want your help?” 

“And I think it’ll be fun.” He smiles, his cheekiness beginning to show again. 

“Fun? Is this some game to you?” You chuckle, dumbfounded that he’s so eager to help you out with this. 

“Yeah. I want to see whether or not you’ve been pining for me.” He takes his left hand off of your legs and raises his arm over your head to rest it on top of the cushion of the back of the sofa. He leans closer to you and smirks, “Use me, babe. I’m at your service.” 

The second you hear his words, all you can do is blink. “Your calling me ‘babe’ is exactly why everyone thought we were dating. Stop calling me that. And who says that I’ve been pining for you?” 

Jungkook giggles in a slightly low tone before changing the subject, “You did have your first kiss, you know.” He maintains eye contact with you while watching you tilt your head, trying to remember when. As far as you know, such a thing never happened. 

Yours and Jungkook’s moment is interrupted for the second time tonight by Casey, but this time, it’s for a reason. 

He’s standing on the steps, halfway up the staircase, “Get dressed, kiddo. Mom just called and said that Grandma passed away. We have to go.” 

“O-okay.” You watch as he races back up the stairs and then you turn your head back to face Jungkook. 

“Oh my god.” Jungkook reacts, staring back at you in shock. 

“I should, uh-,” You hurriedly stand up from the couch and run up the stairs to change and pack a carry-on. “Where’s my black dress?” You frantically move around your room, sifting through the boxes that you still hadn’t cleaned up. You groan while going through piles of clothes, “Where is it?”

Jungkook has followed you upstairs and is watching you from the doorframe. He then notices a back dress hanging on the top of the closet door behind you. He walks into your room and past you to reach for the hanger. 

“Is this it?” He holds it up at his side before you take it from him. 

You had hung it there so that it wouldn’t get wrinkled as it’s the dress you are wearing to your cousin’s wedding. That’s months away and you never expected to need it for anything prior to that.

You stand still with the dress in your hand and stare at the bottom of the closet door. “My carry-on.” Just as you open the closet door, you remember that your carry-on is still in the garage, broken. “Dammit, it’s broken.” You curse under your breath, in a rush. 

“Calm down.” Jungkook reminds you that rushing is not going to help you right now. It’s only going to make you more anxious. 

“I can’t, I have to-,” You run your hand through your hair. “I have to go see my-.” You hang your head low, staring at your feet. Your vision starts to blur as your eyes begin to burn from holding back your tears. 

Still standing next to you, Jungkook grabs your shoulders and bends down to look at you. “Look at me.” He waits until you lift your head. Noticing your furrowed eyebrows and the whites of your eyes that are slightly pink, his eyes are full of concern, “Breathe. It’s okay. I’ll go with you and your brothers.” 

“Don’t you have work?” 

He shakes his head, “I have the next few days off. I want to pay my respects to your grandma.” 

You exhale, “Okay, thanks.” Jungkook’s hands now let go of your shoulders and you walk out of your bedroom while talking, “Casey should have another suitcase. I’ll see if he has an extra suit.” 

8:45 PM 

“I have to go pick up Spencer at the hospital so we’ll meet you guys at the airport.” Casey gets into his car as you get into the passenger seat of yours that is parked next to his on the driveway. 

Jungkook gets into the driver’s seat on the other side but once he sits down in the seat, his body is folded together and his chest is leaning against the steering wheel. The seat is way too close to the wheel for him. “How-?” He grunts and looks over at you like you’re crazy for sitting this close to the wheel. “Are you seriously this short?”

“I’m only 5”2’.” You remind your best friend who’s eight inches taller than you that you are on the shorter side. 

“Right and I forgot you have short legs.” He teases. 

“I actually have long legs for my height.” You bicker with him, momentarily forgetting where you are going. “Stop whining and just drive, would you?” You fold your arms across your chest and adjust the way your back is leaning in the passenger’s seat. 

Jungkook chuckles and reaches below the seat to pull the lever that adjusts the distance of the seat from the wheel. Pulling the lever up, he pushes the seat back to a comfortable distance. He then puts the key into the ignition and starts the engine. 

“Do you even have a driver’s license?” You turn to look at him, speaking over the hum of the idling engine. 

“Who do you think I am? I got my license when I was 17, remember?” 

You nod, now remembering, “But when’s the last time you drove a car?” That’s the real question you meant to ask. 

“Don’t worry about it.” He winks while backing out of your driveway. 

“What’s that supposed to mean? Jungkook, what’s that supposed to mean?” You feel your heart rate increasing, suddenly starting to regret letting him drive. He doesn’t answer you, which confirms your suspicion. He hasn’t driven a car in years. 

9:20 PM 

“Would you calm down already?” Jungkook sits in the chair next to you by the gate. You and him are waiting for your brothers, who are stuck in traffic. 

You squeeze the four plane tickets in your hand. “Don’t tell me to calm down.” You hiss at him, your heart pounding after that ride here that you thought you were going to die in. 

“Now you know how I felt, right?” He tries to prove a point, even in a situation like this. 

This idiot. You force yourself to calm down a little before glaring at him, “You were just being a baby when I drove that time. You drive a car like you drive your bike.” 

“Tomato, tomahto.” Jungkook looks into the distance with his left arm extended out behind you, resting on top of the back of the chair you’re sitting in. 

“That is not the same thing.” You squint for a second before relaxing your eyes. “For someone who’s had their license for over ten years, you sure don’t have that concept down.” 

“Regardless, you didn’t get hurt. So just shut up and calm down.” 

He’s so annoying. You exhale deeply, your heart rate finally steadying to its resting rhythm. Jungkook’s still looking straight ahead so you grab his attention again. “How do you know that I’ve had my first kiss?” 

He slowly turns his head to face you, meeting your eyes with a relaxed expression, “Because it was with me.”

;

May 1999, 10:30 PM

“Help me.” You breathe heavily through your words, your bloodshot and puffy eyes staring up at your best friend who looks down at you worriedly. 

It’s pouring outside and you are drenched. You just came from JFK Airport and had been standing outside of his front door for the past ten minutes before finally knocking on the door and him answering it. 

“What are you doing here? What’s wrong?” His voice coos softly, seeing as you had cried.

“Take me somewhere.” You calm down a little, trying to keep your breathing steady. 

“At this hour? Where?” Jungkook peers over your head to see the rain pouring down as hard as it sounds. 

“Anywhere.” You know the only transportation he has is his motorcycle and you usually dared not to get on that vehicle. But right now, you don’t care. You just want to get some air and stop feeling like this.

“Sure. Let’s go.” Jungkook nods, letting you come in. You follow him down to the garage where his motorcycle is parked. He opens the garage door before helping you onto the bike and putting the spare helmet over your head. The rain splashes down onto the driveway, getting heavier by the minute. “You sure about this?” 

You nod, the helmet on your head shaking up and down with your head. 

Jungkook sighs before putting on his helmet and getting on the seat in front of you. He lowers the visor as you wrap your arms around his torso. “Hold on tight.” His voice is muffled but you can still hear him through the helmet. 

He twists the handlebars with his hands to rev the engine before taking off. He turns out of the driveway, races down the street and heads toward the main road. His speed continues on the main road, driving the bike in between cars. He knows that you usually get scared when you’re on his bike, that’s why you never say ‘yes’ to riding on the back of it. 

But something is different tonight. Something is different about you. 

As he speeds through the traffic, he’s headed toward the highway. You sit behind him with the left side of your head leaning against his back, arms wrapped tightly around his waist and eyes closed. You don’t nag him about his reckless driving or scream about his speed. You were just, quiet. 

Once Jungkook gets on the highway, he slows down and his speed is now steady. The ride is now a lot smoother and you feel yourself mindlessly falling asleep behind him. 

11:15 PM 

“What happened? What are you suddenly doing here? Why did you ask me to take you out?” Jungkook leans his right side against the side of his bike. His motorcycle is parked in front of a bench looking out toward the Hudson River, with a view of New York City on the other side of the water. 

The rain has now slightly calmed down, though it is still heavily falling. 

“Ask one question at a time.” You take off the helmet, being greeted by the beautiful scenery. New York City at nighttime is beautiful, especially from here. 

He sighs, “Are you okay?” 

You nod your head while looking at the skyline, though immediately shake your head a second later. You begin to tear up at his words. You then lower your head and stare at the helmet on your lap. Choking on your next words, you feel a pit in your stomach as you speak, “It’s hard.” 

Jungkook is now drenched with you, after being out in the heavy rain for the past 30 minutes. Water drips from the tips of his bangs as he just stares at you, “Then why did you go?” 

You look up from the helmet, finally making eye contact with him, “I don’t think I can do it anymore. I feel like I’m suffocating.” Your voice cracks as your eyes well up with tears. 

You moved to California last July after getting accepted to Stanford. And for you, adjusting to living in a city on the other side of the country wasn’t easy. You had no friends, the classes were too hard and you felt homesick. But it wasn’t just that. Your dad kept calling you, when you wanted very little to do with him. 

Your nail beds turn white as your grip on the helmet in your lap tightens, “And my dad just keeps- He just keeps calling me. He calls and I don’t pick up. So, he leaves voicemails and apologizes over and over again, telling me that he regrets hurting us.” You scoff, dumbfounded at your dad’s repeated attempts to right his wrong when both you and he knew he couldn’t, now that the damage was done. 

Jungkook looks at your hands, seeing them turn red in the dark from gripping the helmet too hard. He takes a step closer to remove the helmet from your hands. “Have you talked to him?” He sets it down on the seat next to you

You shake your head, “Would you want to if you were me?” You exhale, “I know that he feels bad, but if he’s going to regret it, why did he leave in the first place?” 

“Some people just realize things when it’s a little too late, I guess.” Jungkook doesn’t know how else to comfort you in this situation. Your behavior right now is all new to him.

Your anger calms down a little, and you let out a soft chuckle.“I just wish I had someone with me in California.” The loneliness hits you again and tears roll down your face, “Can you come with me?” 

“What?” Jungkook whispers, holding the helmet in his hands. 

“Can you come with me? I’m so lonely.” You whine, your eyes desperate. 

Jungkook sighs and stands in front of you, watching as you cry harder, “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

“Please.” Your voice cracks again as you lean your head against his chest. “Help me, Jungkook.” 

“What do you want me to do?” He lays a hand on your head for the first time. This is the first time in the 15 years you’d known him that you had broken down in front of him like this. He doesn’t know what to do to make you feel better. 

You sniffle then lift your head off of his chest to look up at him. You stare at him for a second before slightly lifting your body off of the leather seat that you are sitting on. You mindlessly lean your face closer until your lips touch his. When you pull away a second later, Jungkook just blinks at you. 

“W-What are you doing?” Jungkook whispers. 

Realizing what you just did, you blink rapidly and avoid his eyes. “S-sorry. I d-didn’t mean to do that.” 

You two just stand there in the rain, without saying a word to each other for the next five minutes. All you could hear is the pitter-patter of the water as it falls from the sky. 

Jungkook breaks the awkward silence by exhaling deeply. He rubs his mouth with his right palm, “It’s late. We should get back.” He clears his throat and leans to his right to grab your helmet. He puts it over your head, lowering the visor for you and covering your face. 

After putting on his helmet, he lifts his left leg and brings it over the leather seat to sit on the front of the bike again. You follow and sit properly on the bike behind him before wrapping your arms around his torso. Jungkook revs the engine before the bike speeds forward and turns around sharply in the direction that you came from. 

The ride back home is again silent and once he drops you off at home, that’s the last time you see him again. 

Until June 2008.

;

You had completely forgotten about that moment. All you had remembered from that night was going to Jungkook’s house and getting drenched by the rain, which had given you a bad cold the next day. “Oh,” is all you could say.

Jungkook clears his throat loudly, sharply turning his head in the opposite direction trying to look for you brothers. “Why aren’t they here yet?” 

“We don’t have to board for another hour, you know.” You check the flight time again, looking at the ticket that is on top of the pile of four. “Our flight is at 11:00pm, so we land at Hancock Intl. in Syracuse at around 12:45am. Then tomorrow at 6:15am, we board in Syracuse, where we then land at O’Hare Intl. in Chicago at around 7:30am.” You read the ticket aloud.

“That’s almost a five and a half hour layover in Syracuse.” Jungkook points out the obvious after doing the math in his head.

“So? What do you want me to do about that?” You raise your eyebrows and the skin of your forehead slightly wrinkles. 

“What are we supposed to do for five and a half hours?” He asks like you know the answer to that question. 

“I don’t know.” You stare at him with a blank expression. 

“Why’d you buy tickets for a flight with such a long layover?” He nags, keeping his eyes off of you. 

“This is the only flight I could get at the last minute. You were right next to me when I bought the tickets. Why are you nagging me?” You grit your teeth, leaning closer to him. 

Jungkook turns his head in your direction and blinks while making eye contact with you, “Could you move your ugly face away from mine?” 

You exhale softly and slowly back away from him, “Happy?” 

“Thank you. I don’t want this handsome face to get contaminated.” 

You shake your head, “You know, the more you say that, the bigger your head is going to get.” 

“What’s wrong with being confident about my face?” 

“Being confident and conceited are two totally different things, by the way.” You speak while rummaging through your purse lying flat on your lap. “Where’s my iPod?” 

Jungkook pulls a pack of gum out of his pants pocket and picks out a stick to chew. He puts the pack back into his pocket before unwrapping the piece of sugar-free gum and popping it into his mouth, grinding it with his teeth to taste the minty flavor. He watches as you continue to look for your iPod. 

You suck on your teeth, while digging through your bag for the fifth time already. “Did I leave it at home?”

Jungkook then takes out his MP3 player from his other pants pocket. His wired earbuds are plugged in and wrapped around the center of the player. He holds the player with his left hand while rapidly unwinding the cord of the earbuds with his right hand. He sticks the left earbud into his ear before sticking the right one into your ear. 

Feeling the piece of plastic fit into your ear, you lift your head from your bag and look at Jungkook. He smiles at you before turning on a playlist and the first song is by Baby V.O.X. 

You chuckle, “You still listen to Baby V.O.X? 

“You like them too.” 

“I know.” You lean back in the chair and cross your legs, listening to the music. “This makes me think about when we were teenagers. Your favorite member was Yoon Eunhye.” You glance at Jungkook who is sitting next to you in the exact same position. 

He has his eyes closed and nods his head, “It still is. She’s pretty.” 

“You know, people tell me that I look like her.” You smile to yourself, keeping your eyes on your best friend. 

Jungkook opens his eyes and looks at you with a frown, “That’s an insult to Yoon Eunhye. How can you say that?” 

“I’m serious. People say that I resemble her.” You defend yourself. 

“Resemble, my ass.” Jungkook turns his head back to face forward again as you grumble and fold your arms across your chest.

10:20 PM

“Guys!” Spencer stumbles while running towards you and Jungkook with Casey right behind him, pulling the large suitcase. 

Your head jerks around in the direction of your brother’s voice, “Spencer!” You stand up and pull the earbud out of your right ear before rushing over to him to help him with his bags. Jungkook also stands up and follows you, bringing your bags with him. “Why are you still wearing your white coat?” 

Spencer throws his backpack down on the floor next to him. “I forgot to take it off.” He huffs in between his words before turning to face Jungkook, “Thanks for coming, man. Appreciate it.” 

“No problem, Spencer.” Jungkook nods at Spencer who’s still catching his breath. 

“We gotta go.” Casey rushes the three of you, dragging the large suitcase next to him to the gate. 

Spencer grabs his backpack and swings one strap over his shoulder, then takes his other bag from you while you adjust your purse on your shoulder. Jungkook grabs your suitcase and small tote bag, following all three of you to the gate. 

10:50 PM 

“Hey.” Jungkook pokes your left cheek with his index finger. “Are you still sullen?” He smiles like a kid having fun teasing their older sibling. 

You sit still in the seat next to him, while your arms are folded across your chest. You answer his question without turning to him, “No. Why would I be?” 

“You just seemed upset after I disagreed with you when you said that people say that you resemble Yoon Eunhye.” 

You finally turn to face him, “It’s not the first time you’ve said that I’m ugly or something of the sort. So why would I be sullen? I’m not a kid or anything.” 

“Okay, good.” He turns his body to face forward and taps his right shoulder with his left hand. “Rest your head on my shoulder if you want.” 

You frown, “Why are you being cringey?” 

“What? You don’t like it?” He raises his eyebrows, looking down at you with his head leaning back against the headrest of the seat. 

“No, I don’t. I want to slap you right now.” 

“Don’t be like that. Not to your boyfriend.” Jungkook’s voice hums in a low tone before a smirk is drawn on his face. 

Your eyes widen at the sound of the word, ‘boyfriend’. “Are you crazy?! Why are you calling yourself my boyfriend?” 

“I am your boyfriend.” He continues to poke fun at you. 

You scoff then smile as you run your tongue along your top teeth. “Are you going to keep this up?” 

“Keep what up?” He winks and clicks his tongue. 

Ha. This brat. 

The Next Day, 1:20 AM, Syracuse, NY

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jungkook reacts to the one bed placed in the middle of the back wall across from the door. 

You follow and scoff, “You’re joking. How are we supposed to sleep here?” 

The two of you stand side-by-side in the doorway and just stare at the queen-size mattress. Jungkook walks into the room first, pushing the suitcase into the corner on his right-hand side. “I’m not sleeping on the floor.” 

“Well neither am I.” The carpet looks dirty and you didn’t know when it was last vacuumed. You are not sleeping on it, even if there’s a flat sheet in between you and the floor. 

After landing in Syracuse at 12:45am, the four of you decided to go to a motel and get some sleep before your flight to Chicago. Unfortunately, at that hour, the only two rooms available each had only one bed. Casey and Spencer are in one room and you and Jungkook are in the other right next door. 

You and Jungkook stare at either before the both of you lunge toward the bed and jump on it. You two wrestle with each other, “No! The bed is mine!” Your voice goes higher as you fight your best friend for the bed. After about five minutes, you push Jungkook off of the bed and he rolls onto the floor. 

You lay with your legs bent on the mattress, knees pointing to the ceiling, and let out a sigh, “this is nice.” You pull your upper body up with your core and sit up, smiling down at your defeated best friend on the floor

Jungkook groans as his body hits the floor with a thud. As you enjoy your victory, he curses under his breath and gets up from the floor. He breathes heavily and stares at you before climbing onto the bed in front of you and pinning you down on the mattress. His hands grab your wrists as he’s looking down at you, still breathing heavily. “I’m not giving up this easily.” 

“Hey, armrest. Do you have-?” Spencer opens the door to your room and cuts himself off when he sees you and Jungkook on the bed. You two jerk your heads in the direction of the door as Spencer just blinks, “What are you two doing?”

“We’re fighting over the bed…” You’re embarrassed to admit to your older brother that you and Jungkook still fight over things like this. 

“You know, there’s a couch right there.” Spencer points to the couch that’s to the right of you, a few feet away. 

Both of you only notice that after Spencer mentions it. Jungkook whispers, “oh,” and exchanges a glance with you before getting off of you and standing up from the bed. 

“Anyway, do you have toothpaste? I forgot to bring mine from work.” Your brother walks into the room, leaving the door open a crack.

You groan while rolling off of the bed and walking over to the suitcase in the corner where Jungkook left it. After bending down and unzipping the luggage, you grab your toiletry bag and dig through it. “Here,” you lift your head and make eye contact with Spencer while handing him one tube of travel-size toothpaste

Your older brother slightly nudges your temple with his left fist, “Thanks, dork.” He glances at Jungkook, then back at you. “You two have to stop fighting. You’ll end up growing on each other.” He chuckles and makes his way out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“Okay, fine,” you zip up the suitcase and use it to stand yourself up from the floor, “you take the couch.” 

Jungkook scoffs, “If you think I’m giving up the bed, think again.” 

“You’re going to let a girl sleep on the couch? Where did chivalry go?” You fold your arms across your chest and bend your left leg, leaning on your right. 

“What makes you think I consider you a girl?” He tilts his head, raising his eyebrows. 

-

You exhale, “This is no better than one of us sleeping on the couch.” Laying on your right side, your back is turned to Jungkook’s on the bed. 

He lays on his left side on the other end of the bed, now just in the jeans and black t-shirt he’s been wearing. He had taken off the white long sleeve shirt he was wearing under the t-shirt and thrown it on top of your tote bag. “Quit whining and go to sleep.” Jungkook says with his eyes closed, his left arm bent and between his head and the pillow.

“This is stupid.” You roll over onto your back and lay still on your side of the bed. “I’m going to the couch.” You move to get up but Jungkook extends his right arm back and slightly pushes your left shoulder down so you’re back on the bed. “Just sleep there.” 

“It’s uncomfortable.”

“I won’t move from this side, so don’t worry and just sleep.” He still has his back turned to you. 

You listen to him and sigh, closing your eyes, but five seconds later, they open again and you are wide awake. “Are you sleeping?” 

“Mm.” Jungkook hums in his sleep. He has no problem laying next to you in the same bed. 

You breath softly, closing your eyes again to really try and fall asleep this time. You roll over back on your right side and feel yourself falling asleep. 

5:40 AM 

“You both slept in the bed?!” Casey’s eyes widen after hearing yours and Jungkook’s sleeping arrangement. He looks at the two of you with an ‘overprotective older brother’ look in his eyes.

“Relax.” You whisper, telling your brother to lower his voice as the other people in line to board the plane could hear him. “Do you really think something could’ve happened between me and Jungkook?” 

“Still… I know you two used to do that when you were kids but now? A grown man and woman sleeping in the same bed, is a bit-.” Spencer agrees with Casey. 

“I moved to the couch halfway through the night. So, both of you can rest assured.” Jungkook tells your brothers that they didn’t need to worry about anything. “She still bearhugs me in her sleep.” 

You giggle and raise your right palm and the three of them, “Sorry.” 

“So it’s you we have to worry about.” Casey grits his teeth while poking your forehead with his index finger. 

Spencer then lightly nudges your head with his fist, “You brat.” 

“Ow, that hurts!” You glare at both of your brothers. 

“Let me see the seat numbers on the tickets.” Casey moves on from the current conversation. He takes the tickets from your hand and checks the seat numbers. “On the last flight, Spence and I had no leg room. You’d think that the leg room on planes would be accommodating for people over 6 feet tall, but no.” After reading the seat numbers, he nods. “It looks like these seats are two and two that are front and back.” 

The line moves forward and the four of you are now second in line to board. “I’m nervous.” You’re reminded of why you’re traveling to Chicago again. You weren’t ready to say goodbye to your grandma. It’s too soon, too sudden. 

Spencer exhales deeply and rests a hand on your shoulder, “We are too. It’s okay.” 

-

The next six days after the four of you get to Chicago feels more like a month. 

Spencer and Jungkook had to go back to work after the funeral and the wake so they both had return flights four days before you. You, your mom and Casey stayed in Chicago for three more days at your now late grandma’s house to clean out her place. She had put her house up for sale before she passed away. That house was your mom’s home since her family had immigrated from South Korea when she was in high school. You and your brothers would spend part of every winter and summer break from school there. Your grandma and her house held many memories for all of you. 

So, naturally, both were very hard to let go of. 

Two Weeks Later, July 2008, 11:00 AM

“My aunts asked if you have a girlfriend. They wanted to set you up.” You mention that without warning, which makes Jungkook choke on his iced coffee. “Oh, shit. Sorry.” You lightly pat his back to help his body calm down. 

“They want to do what?” His voice is hoarse from coughing. 

“Don’t worry about it. I told them that you have a girlfriend.” You sip your coffee through the straw. 

“You should’ve just told them that you’re my girlfriend.” Jungkook leans back in the chair on the other side of the table in the Starbucks you two are in, now feeling better after choking. 

“Do you like me or something? Why are you so okay with being my fake boyfriend?” 

“Hey, like I said, use me, I’m at your service.” He tilts his head and smirks at you. “So, use me as you see fit. That’s what I’m here for.” 

“Then again, they did say that it’d be a shame if you didn’t have a girlfriend because you’re so handsome.” You shake your head, disagreeing with them. 

“You don't have to make the fact that you disagree so obvious, you know.” 

“Sorry. I’ve been working on controlling my facial expressions. I’ve been told that I’m transparent.” 

Jungkook chuckles, leaning forward to take another sip of coffee. “You know that’ll never work on me. I know you too well.” 

“Dammit.” You whisper under your breath. 

Jungkook checks his watch and smiles before looking up at you, “Anyway, what time is the movie again?” 

“Eight thirty.” The fingers of your left hand play with the ring on your right middle finger. 

“Why are you so dressed up? Do you have a job interview or something?” Jungkook asks, not really looking for a ‘yes’ to his second question. 

“I actually do.” You smile, happy that you actually got a call back for at least one position you applied for.

“Where?” His eyes widen, shocked that you had actually found a job. 

“You don’t have to act that surprised.” 

“Sorry.” He smiles and his voice is slightly lower as he speaks.

“It’s at a law firm like twenty minutes from here.” You exhale and stretch out your arms. “It’s in thirty minutes.” 

“I’ll drop you off.” The chair scrapes loudly against the floor as he pushes it back to stand up. “I’m headed that way anyway.” 

You shake your head violently, staying seated. “I’m good. I’ll just walk.” 

“It’s like ninety-five degrees out.” He scoffs, “You’ll sweat through your makeup and look uglier than you already are. You’ll be rejected as soon as they see your face.” He smiles so that his top and bottom teeth show. 

“And riding on the back of your bike won’t be hot?” You raise your eyebrows, not really seeing the difference. 

He shrugs, “No, but you won’t have sweat on your face and they might actually consider going through with the interview.” 

You chuckle, grabbing the clear plastic cup of black coffee from the table. The outside is wet from the condensation of the ice melting. “Fine, let’s go.” 

“Seriously?” He tilts his head, shocked for the second time. Just like nine years ago, there’s something different about you this summer. 

“Come on, before I change my mind.” You walk out of the Starbucks and to his bike parked by the curb. 

“Oh-kay,” he whispers under his breath and follows behind you. 

“Hold on tight.” He reminds you before driving off. 

You gasp at the sudden movement, still not used to the speed he drives at. Luckily, your arms are wrapped tightly around his waist. Though your body does jerk forward and bumps into his back when the bike speeds forward. 

“No matter how many times I get on this thing, it’s never any easier.” You yell over the sound of the engine and the wind. 

“Maybe you should ride it with me more often.” Jungkook yells back. 

You scoff, “No thanks. Maybe you should get a car instead.” 

Jungkook glances at you through the left rear view mirror, “No thanks.” 

You chuckle, adjusting your grip around his waist. Ten minutes later, Jungkook stops his bike in front of the law firm where you had your interview. You breathe as you pull the helmet off of your head and put it back underneath the seat. 

“See? Now you might actually get the job.” Jungkook has the visor of his helmet lifted and he looks at you with playful eyes. 

“Shut up.” You shake your head, “Don’t forget about tonight at eight thirty.” 

He clicks his tongue and winks, “I won’t, babe.” 

“Bye.” You walk away as Jungkook watches before lowering the visor and taking off. The low rumble of the engine before it revs echoes in your ear as you disappear into the building. 

8:15 PM 

“What the hell happened to you?” You run up to your best friend after seeing his bruised face while walking toward you. 

“I got into a fight with my friends earlier. It’s no big deal.” Jungkook looks away from you and exhales softly, “Let’s go in.” 

-

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You look up at your best friend while walking out of the theater next to him after the movie ended. 

“I’m fine.” He has his hands in his pants pockets and matches his pace to yours. 

“Your face is saying otherwise.” You stop him in the hallway of the theater and stand in front of him to examine his face. “Why do you always-“ You cut yourself off when you hear a familiar voice calling to you. 

“Hey, chewing gum. It's been a long time.” 

You turn your head toward the direction that the voice sounds from and smile once you recognize the face, “Taehyung!” You leave Jungkook all alone and rush over to talk to him. 

“‘Taehyung’?” Jungkook raising his eyes and mumbles to himself as he watches you smile widely at the guy who you seemed rather friendly with. He couldn’t hear the conversation you are having but he watches as you act all shy by tucking your hair behind your ear and smiling silly. He scoffs and shakes his head, “Would you look at her.” He keeps talking to himself, noticing that you clearly had history with the guy. Jungkook rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek, glaring at the guy from a distance. 

You wave at Taehyung before you part ways with him. You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as you walk back towards Jungkook, “Sorry, it’s just someone from college.” 

“Who was that?” Jungkook keeps his eyes on Tarhyung who walks away. 

“He’s a guy who was a year above me at Stanford. I had a crush on him so I followed him around all the time.” You’re still smiling and that seems to annoy Jungkook for some reason. 

“You seemed to love talking to him and called him by his name.” He scoffs. 

“I’m close with him so it’d only make sense to call him that.” You don’t see anything wrong with that and you could tell that Jungkook is getting jealous. It’s fun to watch. “Are you jealous because he’s better looking than you?” 

Jungkook laughs, finding it ridiculous that you’d say such a thing. “Who? Me?” 

You shrug, “Let’s go. I’ll patch you up.” 

He doesn’t move so you link your arm with his. He frowns at your sudden playful display of affection. “Let go of me.” 

You listen to him and let go of his arm. “Getting annoyed doesn’t suit you, by the way.”

“Whatever. We’re taking my bike to my place so suck it up.” Jungkook’s voice holds little emotion as he walks ahead of you with his hands still in his pockets. 

“I know.” You rush behind him, smiling to yourself. 

10:45 PM 

“Don’t be a baby.” You respond to Jungkook flinching when the ointment touches his busted up lip. You hold a cotton swab in your hand as you apply ointment to the skin of his lip. 

“It hurts. Be gentle.” He nags, looking away from you and closing his eyes in pain. 

“Who told you get beat up like this all the time? Aren’t you sick of it?  Ever since high school.” You move on to apply ointment on the cut on his left cheekbone. 

“Then what am I supposed to do? I promised your dad to be your knight in shining armor.” He now turns to make eye contact with you as you suddenly stop what you’re doing. 

“You what?” Your voice is just above a whisper as you hold the cotton swab in your hand that floats in the air by his face. 

“Can I ask you something?” Jungkook’s voice suddenly softens. 

“What is it?” You go back to what you were just doing, trying to take your mind off of what you just heard. 

Jungkook stares at you without blinking, “Why did you kiss me back then?” 

© kookied 2026. all rights reserved. all content shared on this page is my own, original work. the above characters (including original), characterizations, dialogue, plot and settings are all fictitious. they are not to be associated with any real people mentioned, whom are solely used for visual purposes. 

There were a handful of profanities waiting on the tip of Jungkook's tongue right now — funny, considering he rarely cursed. Then again, he rarely found himself cock-blocked by his five-year-old son. It wasn't his fault, of course, but Jungkook still mourns the press of your lips against his, a reality that now seemed thousands of miles away.

"Santa— Is it you?" 

Cassian was half-awake at best. On rare occasions he would sleep walk, leaving Jungkook to patiently follow him up and down the stairs a couple of times as he tries to guide him back to bed without waking the boy entirely. He hopes that isn't the case tonight — God have mercy on him and this creaking house if he had to be walked like a dog on a leash behind a sleep-dazed Cassian. 

Luckily, that does not seem to be the case for a moment later his son pries his heavy eyes open fully, adjusting to the kitchen lights slowly. Jungkook exhales a relieved breath as he turns back to you — well, where you had been standing a second ago. You'd already torn yourself from his grasp, and when he peers down, Jungkook finds his empty hands staring back at him as they clutch weakly at the air. 

"Hi sweetie," your voice is coated in sugar and it makes his head whip in your direction. He finds you crouched in front of his son, the same hands that should've been resting on the back of his neck by now, instead cradling Cassian's small face. The corner of his lip tugs into a frown but he says nothing when approaching the two of you. 

Cassian stifles a yawn as he glances around the kitchen. "I thought I heard something," he says, clearly disappointed that what he came down to find was not Santa. Their eyes meet and for a second Jungkook fears that his son might start asking question he has no answers to — thankfully you're faster. 

"It was probably just the wind, old houses make noise sometimes," you tell him with a smile. 

He accepts that with a sleepy nod, his gaze wandering back and forth between you and Jungkook once more as his brows furrow across his forehead. "What are you and daddy doing in the kitchen? It's night." He points an accusing finger to the window where the moon can be seen beyond the glass. 

Taking another step forward, Jungkook closes the distance between you and his son. "We were just getting some water," he says, hoping that the simple explanation would be enough to put a lid on the child's curiosity. 

"Hm…" Cassian hums, blinking slowly like it made perfect sense. 

Not wanting to give his son room for further prying, Jungkook hauls him into his arms. "Alright, back to bed," he announces without leaving air for argument. Cassian's tiny body goes pliant in his embrace within seconds, his head becoming a warm and comforting weight where it lolls forward to rest on his shoulder. 

You, too, rise to back to your full height, fingers reaching up to brush a strand of hair from the boy's face. The gesture was mindless and you probably thought nothing of it — but Jungkook's heart did. It squeezes hard in his chest and he has to pry his eyes away until your touch no longer lingers right under his nose. 

"Goodnight sweetie," you say when taking a small step back, to which Cassian mumbles a tired response. It still makes your lips stretch into a grin and Jungkook hates himself for wishing that the affection had been directed at him and not his son. 

He shoves the dangerous thoughts aside as he adjusts his grip on the small child. Then he gives you a quiet nod, not trusting himself to speak. His attention strays by the necklace around your neck before he turns to leave — the gold glinting softly under the kitchen lights where it rests against your skin, the taste of you a permanent mark on his tongue. 

His parents' house is quiet when he makes his way up the stairs. He does not glance back to see if you've followed, but when the steps don't creak behind him, he figures that you hadn't. 

"Daddy?" 

Cassian's voice is a drowsy murmur against his chest, barely audible despite the reigning silence. "Yes?" Jungkook hums when he walks through the door his son had left ajar, heading toward the lower bunk where the younger slept. 

It takes him a moment to respond and Jungkook uses the delay to tuck him in, arranging the duvet carefully over his smaller frame. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he waits his son out. 

Rubbing his fist over his eyes, Cassian makes a sound that told Jungkook he was thinking intently about something. Finally his lips part, "Do you always hug nanny like that?" 

The room drops ten degrees and suddenly he wishes that his son had been sleep walking after all. He shifts just enough for the mattress to groan and Jungkook almost does the same. At the very least, the kid had thought his father's busted attempt at a kiss to be nothing but a hug — which was more than he could've prayed for. 

"Well you see…" he rubs a hand over the back of his neck, silently thanking the darkness of the bedroom for hiding the flush on his cheeks. "Grown-ups hug," shrugging, he tries to appear indifferent, "Just like how I hug your nana and papa." 

"But papa and nana is your mommy and daddy," the boy quickly counters, "Nanny is just nanny." 

"Right," Jungkook drags his palm down the line of his face, "Nanny is just nanny." He thinks of something else to say, something that will either bore the child or have him fall asleep in an instant. Unfortunately he's at his wits end and Cassian's eyes aren't growing any heavier as they await his response. 

"Sometimes people need hugs, even if they're not family." The words are pulled out of him in a most unsure way but he deems the answer good enough. 

His son frowns, "Is nanny sad?" Concern has crept its way onto his tired expression. Try as he might — and try he did — Jungkook could not for the life of him figure out what you had done to make the usually introverted and quiet boy so enamored with you. 

"No," he shakes his head, "Nanny is fine." The last thing he needed was any talk of what his child had witnessed to be taking place at the breakfast table in the morning. 

Silence settles over the bedroom both of his children share. In the distance the faint ticking of whatever nonsense-trinket-clock his mother had found at a flea market, can be heard. Jungkook remains seated on the edge of his son's mattress, making sure not to move a fin and disrupt the possibility of the latter falling into a deep slumber. 

Minutes pass — how many? he has no idea. But the fact that his back was beginning to hurt from the hunched over position he sat in was telling enough. He listens for the faint hum of breaths, trying to gauge if the kid was any closer to sleep. 

"Daddy…?"

Never mind, Jungkook sighs. He shifts enough to face him better, or as best as one could given the looming shadows of the night. "Yes?" he quires, hoping that whatever came next would be brief. 

Cassian hesitates, had it been any lighter he might've caught the sight of him chewing up his bottom lip. Instead he is faced with quiet darkness — until his son finally speaks again. "Are you sad?" 

The question has him glancing down at his lap, where his hands rest idly on top of his knees. He turns one of them, bending his thumb slightly. "No," his tone is certain, almost too sure of itself, he softens it before adding, "I'm fine." 

When there's no response Jungkook turns fully toward the small boy. He leans forward, reaching the same hand up to brush the soft, slightly curly ends of his hair back. "I'm happy," it's not a lie, but he doesn't know if it's the full truth either. 

Cassian tilts his head into his father's palm, "You are?" 

Jungkook hums, then he bends down to press a gentle kiss to his son's forehead. "Of course, I have you and your sister," he murmurs against the soft skin of the boy's temple before pulling back a fraction. 

"Okay," Cassian seems content with that as he snuggles a little deeper into the duvet. "Promise—" he's' interrupted by a yawn, "You tell me if you're sad." After a moment he says, "I'll make you feel better. We can hug." 

Often times Jungkook found himself wondering what he might have done in a past life to deserve his own children. If he stopped to think about it for too long he knows that he will only deem himself unworthy of their unconditional love. So he doesn't. Instead he presses another chaste kiss to Cassian's forehead. 

"I will," he promises, so quietly that it would have only been audible if you listened close. The moonlight bleeds onto the young boy's face, his dark lashes fluttering as his father's answer registers — then they grow heavy. Jungkook stays a moment longer, watching as Cassian's body sinks further into the matters. 

His lips part, "I really thought Santa was in the kitchen," he sighs. Despite being upset over the missed opportunity to meet the white-bearded man, exhaustion was quickly winning out and a few seconds later, soft snores fill the space between them, signaling that he had passed out at last. 

With a final brush to his son's forehead, then his cheek, Jungkook rises from the bed — nearly hitting his head on the top bunk where his daughter slept. Making sure to watch his step, he manages to exit the room without waking anyone, sliding the door shut behind him with a muted click. 

The study he had offered to sleep in was far from comfortable. Jungkook thought that perhaps he had become somewhat picky when it came to having his bedding done. Still, he settles onto the tiny spare bed, grimacing at how the stiff mattress dug into his back before turning to his side. He's greeted with the sight of books. Books stacked on top of more books that crowd the old shelves. 

Brows furrowing together, he studies the nonsensical order in which the titles were structured. His father had always been somewhat of a character. He'd probably lose track of his right arm if it hadn't been attached to his torso. So the chaos on his bookshelves should come as no surprise. It still makes Jungkook's fingers itch where they tap restlessly against the covers. 

Forcing his eyes shut with a sharp inhale through his nose, he tries to think about anything else. The darkness behind his eyelids feel like a clean slate, no mess, no nothing. His sanctuary lasts for about ten seconds before images of you flood his vision. He tries to shake them at first, not that it ever worked. 

Jungkook figures that there was no harm in imagining your face rather than the chaotic bookshelves in front of him, if only for a little while. So he lets it be his last thought before succumbing to sleep that night. 

It had been three-hundred and sixty five days since the last time he spent Christmas at his parents house. It had been different back then, a year ago the holiday seemed bleak. The carols were too loud, the animated movies only a messy flicker of color in front of his tired eyes. He'd tried to smile for his children as they opened their gifts — it ended with his mother stepping in to do what he couldn't, as if to add onto the list of his failures. 

His guilt consumed him during the weeks that followed. For a long time it was all Jungkook felt. 

Christmas is different today as well, but he finds that he doesn't mind it. Rayne and Cassian are perched on the floor, the younger riffling through the mountain of presents excitedly as Jungkook and his parents watch from the couch. You sit beside them, there's still adequate space on the soft cushion next to him, but you had insisted on staying by the kids' side. 

The sun had just broken the horizon and a few pale streaks of yellow managed to pierce through the windows, basking the three of you in their warm hues. Jungkook didn't have to force a smile on his lips today — that was nice. 

"Hm…" Cassian scratches his chin thoughtfully, "This one." He reaches out to grab one of the neatly wrapped packages, turning it over in his hands as the struggles to read the card attached to it, probably thrown off by the cursive hand writing. 

You lean forward, peering over his shoulder with a hum. "To Rayne from Nana and Papa," you nod when pointing to the card, letting him follow the tip of your finger as you read. When you're done you sit back to let him extend the gift to his sister who took it with careful hands. 

The sound of paper ripping fills the living room and his mother shifts eagerly in her seat as she watches her grandchild open the first gift of the day. Rayne's fingers are gentle where they undo the red wrapping. Her eyes soften around the edges when they land on the contents inside. 

"Thank you," she says when holding up the set of purple pajamas. The shirt has flowers sewn onto it, scattered across the sleeves and the chest piece — Jungkook recognizes the patterns as his mother's touch in an instant, similar to the stitches she would do whenever she mended his broken clothes when he was little. 

"Now, I didn't make the entire thing because there wasn't enough time. But I thought the flowers could be a nice personal touch for—" his mother is cut off mid sentence as Rayne wraps her arms around her. Having already gotten up from her spot on the floor, she now clung to her grandmother tightly. 

"Thank you, nana," she says, the words muffled against the woman's shoulder. 

"Hey now," his father suddenly clears his throat, drawing attention toward himself, "I paid for it." 

The corner of Rayne's lip twitches and she goes to hug him as well, letting her grandfather place a kiss to her forehead. 

Jungkook watches the exchange quietly, his gaze drifting over to you without meaning for it to. But you're not looking at him, no, you sit entirely captivated by the sight of Rayne and her grandparents. The smile on your face reminds him of a time since long lost and the strange flutter in his chest doesn't help ease the situation. 

Rayne reclaims her spot beside her brother on the floor and the present unwrapping continues. Jungkook is mostly oblivious to what is being said as he regards the scene with half-lidded eyes. Gifts are passed back and forth, Cassian receives a similar pajama set from his grandparents, the dinosaur Jungkook had seen you pick out at the store. 

The majority of things from the humongous pile were all Jungkook's doing. Rayne especially was hard to decide on appropriate presents for, so he'd tried to compensate by getting them a large spread instead. 

"Thank you, daddy!" His son crashes into his arms, the box of shiny toy cars that he still cradles gets squished between them, but he doesn't mind. Placing a kiss on the crown of his head, he then leans back as Cassian returns to shuffle through the steadily shrinking mountain. 

Rayne gets a book from her grandfather — the palette of makeup that Jungkook has little knowledge on from you. He recalls the hot and stuffy air of the mall as you dragged him up and down the aisles, discussing different brands that seemed indifferent to him. Though his daughter pauses when the gift registers. 

Her brows furrow before softening again, finger tracing the edge of the plastic cover as she reads the name under her breath. Then she turns to you, who'd been watching her whilst chewing on your nail — a nervous habit of yours Jungkook had realized. 

"I wasn't sure about the colors— So if you want another palette we can go and have it changed but I thought that you might like your own since—" 

"Thank you." Rayne interrupts you halfway through your ramble, dark eyes meeting yours as she smiles, an awkward but sincere smile that Jungkook rarely saw. "The colors are perfect," she then adds, her attention lingering by the purple shade, "I love it." 

You breathe out a sigh of relief, nodding as your posture relaxes again. The moment is short-lived, mostly because her brother was far too eager to continue. He'd already grabbed another, rectangular shaped present and was now reading the card to the best of his abilities. 

Rayne leans in to help out, her face going through a handful of expressions before she turns to you. "It's for you," she announces as she turns back to where you had just gotten comfortable again, "From father." 

Jungkook blinks, immediately pulled from his thoughts as his attention snaps toward the gift his son was now handing you with a beaming grin. He recognizes the wrapping in an instant, the one he had spent a ridiculous amount of time choosing only to settle on a dark green with red dots. 

You accept it with a tiny frown, surprised almost, at least so he thinks. He doesn't know why he feels nervous all of a sudden and he hopes no one notices the way he shifts in his seat, hands locking together across his lap as he bites his cheek. It shouldn't be any different from last night, except today he has an audience. 

Your fingers linger on the card he'd written, was it not enough? Should he have said something else — maybe he should say something right now? 

The paper rips before he can and Jungkook exhales through his nose as he watches you open the present he'd gotten for you. It takes less than a minute but it's enough time for him to rethink the entire thing and he can feel sweat beading on his forehead. 

You, however, have not looked up from the box in your lap and when the wrapping comes off your brows shoot high on your forehead. A soft breath escapes you, then a small chuckle and his heart does a weird little skip against his ribcage. 

"How did you know?" You ask when opening the cardboard lid. 

The corner of his lip twitches and he shrugs, "A hunch." It was admittedly more than a hunch, not that he would ever confess to that — the grin you wear is well enough to have his head spin. 

"Well go on, show us!" His mother squeals on her end of the couch, leaning forward for enough for Jaejoon to place a hand on her shoulder to prevent an unnecessary fall. 

Doing as she says, you hold up the box to display the shoes inside. Sneakers, not anything extravagant — unless you peeked at the price tag, though Jungkook had been smart enough to remove that. 

Your worn out excuse of footwear had bothered him since your first day, even when he'd refrained from making any comments on their state. With the current weather that itch had become almost impossible not to scratch, and your displeased grimace whenever snow managed to wet your socks was enough to have him make up his mind. He'd taken the liberty of checking for your size when arriving back home last week, taking a mental note of the color and going with something similar for these. 

"Thank you," you say, and he can tell you mean it. For a second it looks as though you might just get up and hug him like the children had done. He tries not to appear disappointed when all you give is a smile. "Seriously, these are great," your gaze stays with him a moment longer, making him nod slowly. 

"You needed a new pair," he says, his voice a lot hoarser than he'd like for it to be. His parents seem to approve of the message as well, though not more than his son who was taking a very close look for himself. 

Cassian points excitedly to the window, "We can play outside and you can wear them later!" 

You agree to his suggestion enthusiastically and Jungkook allows himself to relax back against the couch with a sigh. His eyes wander toward the snow outside, the idea of spending time getting cold and wet does make his nose scrunch, but he keeps quiet as he watches the slowly rising sun. In fact he was so focused on it that he nearly missed the way you leaned forward to whisper into the young boy's ear, pointing subtly toward one of the presents under the tree. 

Without further questioning, Cassian turns to grab it and with your help he reads the card easily. "To Jungkook, from nanny," and as if it weren't obvious enough, he holds it out toward his father, "It's for you daddy!" 

Jungkook blinks dumbfoundedly as he stares down at the present held out before him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a present for Christmas, no less one wrapped in shiny red with a green bow on top.

It's light in his palms and he glances over to find you with your arms hugging your legs, bottom lip bit in anticipation. Clearing his throat, he turns back to carefully undo the neat bow. He tries not to picture your own hands instead of his as he peels the wrapper apart, tries not to think about how you might have looked when you sat down to prepare this gift for him. 

The living room is awfully quiet, save for the rustle of paper as he finally strips the box bare. He barely glances at the brand name, it didn't matter where it was purchased, as long as it was from you. Pausing for a second, his gaze flickers up to meet yours one last time before removing the lid. 

Inside is a tie. Not like the ones he'd usually wear, the sleek black and navy ones that blended in with the rest of his wardrobe. No, this one is a deep red, it reminds him of a rich wine. He runs the pads of his fingers across the smooth fabric, the texture feels no different from the ones he already owns, this one might even be softer. 

"I figured you could use a little more color," you say and Jungkook looks over to see you smiling. 

The corner of his mouth curves upward as he takes in the sight of the tie once more. He imagines when he could wear it — proudly to the office — or perhaps only for you. Any other day he might've tried to pry those thoughts from his mind, tell himself that there was no point in dwelling on things he knows he shouldn't want. But right now, he lets himself think of what it would be like to take you to dinner, to spend time with you outside of his house, out in the real world. 

"I definitely could," he muses as he traps the fabric between two fingers, "Thank you." 

Sometimes Jungkook finds himself wanting to kiss you for no apparent reason all. This is one of those times. He wishes his family was elsewhere, despite the sacred holiday and the presents that have yet to be opened, he wishes to be with you and only you. 

The fantasy is quickly interrupted by his father who leans closer to take a look for himself. "This one will suit you nicely, son," he says, turning to you with a pleasant grin, "You have good taste, dear." 

The flustered giggle you emit makes his heart thunder in his chest, not quite the same way it had on your couch almost a week ago, it's fiercer now. "I'm glad," you hum when placing your chin on one knee. Jungkook feels your attention on him, it makes him warm, a nice kind of warm that he clings onto even as the conversation shifts and Cassian goes back to giving out more gifts. 

The next fifteen minutes or so are spent with the children opening the rest of their presents — his parents opening their own which he had gotten them. An electrical whisk for his mother, something she had insisted on not needing though he didn't see why not since she spent more time baking than anything. A chess board for his father, under the guise of them playing together in the future, which the man seemed very eager about. Jungkook often found that it was easier to express himself through materialistic resources — words never came out right for him anyway. 

Soon there was only one lonesome package left under the tree. The shape makes him frown, it wasn't soft, nor was it square or rectangular. Rayne picks it up, having taken over the role of reading the cards out loud rather than having her younger sibling struggle. 

She turns the lumpy present in her hands, its wrapping was different from all the others, a pale blue with reindeer on. Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second before she gets her expression under control again and clears her throat. "To Cassian, from… Santa." 

Her brother's head whips in her direction at that and for a little while he sits completely frozen on the floor. Then he's scrambling over to his sister, practically tearing the gift from her hands as he checks the card for himself. "Santa?!" He sounds disbelieving as he scans the room, like he was expecting the man himself to walk in at any given moment. 

"Well go on, open it," Rayne urges, clearly invested too, even if she tried not to show it. Cassian wastes no time in getting to work, tearing the paper with less care than he had previously. 

Jungkook frowns as he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He runs through his own list in his head, but he couldn't for the life of him remember using that wrapper — and he certainly wouldn't have wrapped it like that. When glancing toward his mother and father, he finds them looking just as confused yet intrigued as himself. 

It's not until he looks over at you and sees the grin you're fighting off that it clicks. 

Cassian's ear piercing shriek pulls him back toward his son who'd already finished breaking through the paper that now lay scattered around him. "I told you! I told you!" he says as he holds up the box of rainbow colored crayons to his sister, "I knew Santa would read my list!" 

"What are those?" Jaejoon inquires as he squints behind his glasses. 

"Rainbow crayons!" The boy says, stumbling to his feet as he plops down in his grandfather's lap. "Look! Only Santa can make these, that's why I put them on my list." 

Ye-seo leans forward as she, too, studies the crayons closely, her face lighting up into a grin that matches her grandson's. "Why, you must have been a really good boy this year for Santa to give you something so special," she says as she pinches one of his cheeks lovingly. 

Jungkook regards them for a moment longer as he tries to piece together where you had managed to get that. Then he remembers the run-in with that Namjoon at the store. He'd just come back after acquiring the gifts he intended to give you, already tired and sick of the crowded mall to find another man chatting with you like one would an old friend. 

The encounter had left a bitter taste in his mouth which he tried to rationalize over and over on his way home to little avail. He thinks he might vaguely remember you holding a colorful box of something, though he'd been too caught up on the stranger in front of him to pay it any mind. 

When he turns to where you sit on the floor you meet his gaze, your head tilted to the side and a knowing look on your face. He mouths a quiet 'thank you' under his breath to which you nod. 

The air inside the living room feels warmer after that and Jungkook's chest feels warmer than it had in a long time. 

Tradition on Christmas Day includes an endless marathon of animated movies that Jungkook couldn't care less for. The dialogue and soundtracks were imprinted into his head by now and sometimes he found himself begrudgingly muttering them in real time as whatever film on-screen played. 

The kids' channel offered a variety throughout the entire morning and afternoon. It was one of the rare times in which he'd let the children spend time in front of the TV and if they had it their way, it would be a good couple of hours. 

Lady and the Tramp had already started by the time Jaejoon got the remote control in his hand and Cassian had bounced up on the couch, claiming what little space remained on the cushion alongside his sister. The sofa wasn't spacious per se, it allowed for a family of four — five if two of them were small enough to be counted as a half. That left you, still sitting on the floor as everyone else huddled up on the soft cushions. 

"Dear, come up here and join us," his mother says as she beckons you over, clearly not having thought over how that was supposed to work. 

You glance up, brows scrunching together as your gaze trails over the already crammed couch. "Oh— I'm fine here," you say, flashing Ye-Seo a small smile. 

"You can sit here," Jungkook barely registers the fact that he's on his feet, towering over everyone in the room as he gestures awkwardly to the spot he'd just been occupying. 

It doesn't fully sink in until he realizes that everyone had gone painfully quiet — even the movie playing on the TV had faded into background noise. He clears his throat, refusing to back down as he steps aside to offer up his seat for you. 

You blink, eyes darting between him and the available spot on the sofa. "No—" shaking your head, "It's alright I can see well from here." 

"I insist."

He knows that he's pressing the matter more than what could be considered appropriate in front of his parents and children, but he can't come to terms with you sitting on the floor while he lounged on the comfortable piece of furniture. 

Jaejoon finally shifts slightly, "Alright," he says as he hauls Cassian up into his arms, easily maneuvering the boy to sit on his wife's lap. "You too kid, come here," he pats his thigh for Rayne who raises a brow but shuffles over without protest. 

Jungkook watches the entire scene with his lips pressed into a firm line as his father easily solves the problem for him in a much simpler and more dignified manner. He glances to the extra space on the sofa, his mouth running dry as you murmur out a shy 'thanks' and slide onto the cushion, fitting in easily next to his family. 

He waits a second before joining you, careful not to brush up too close, which was nearly impossible. His thigh ends up pressed against yours, the warmth of your body radiating through the layers of clothes, straight into his own. 

"I love the girl dog," Cassian says as he points to the TV, content to be in his grandmother's gentle embrace. 

Rayne scoffs, "Her name is Lady, not the girl dog." 

"Lady doesn't sound like a real name," her brother retorts with a scrunch of his nose.

His sister looks ready to argue but Jaejoon diffuses the tension with a pat to her arm. "Such an insignificant detail to get hung up on, let us just enjoy the movie, hm?" he says in a cheerful voice. It does make the two of them settle down again and the topic shifts to the cruel Siamese cats instead. 

Jungkook is hardly paying them any mind. He's far too preoccupied noticing each part of you that connects to him. Your joint hips, the way his knee occasionally bumps against yours when he tries to get comfortable — always to no avail. His hands are clasped together on his lap, thumbs twiddling restlessly with one another. 

The movie is lost on him and he doesn't try to tune in. You are though, eyes moving in tune with the different scenes that play out, humming along softly to whatever song was playing. It makes him frown. Jungkook wants you to look at him, doesn't have any idea why, he just does. 

One of his palms move across his thigh, the edge of his hand resting just a breath from yours. Everyone is preoccupied, there's no harm in letting his pinky brush against the expanse of your leg, he thinks. 

The touch is light, a barely-there caress of his finger but you still tense up beside him, your gaze meeting his without turning your head. For a very short moment he believes that you might swat him away, perhaps read his innocent attempt at contact wrong and think him perverted. 

But you simply turn back to the film, forcing Jungkook to swallow down the disappointment building in his throat. He shifts his attention to the animation on screen, it fails to immerse him, not when you sit just beside him — and he doesn't move his hand. 

It's somewhere between the Tramp and the Lady's first meeting that he feels the subtle brush of skin against his own. His shoulders stiffen and upon glancing down, he sees your pinky resting against his own. You're still not looking at him, but the corner of your lip twitches and he knows it has nothing to do with the movie. 

Lady and the Tramp wrapped up a while ago and a new movie which he did not know the name of had began playing, though Cassian and Rayne were now more invested in their presents than anything. His parents had made their way to the kitchen in order to prepare the large breakfast you were to have. Jungkook joined them, he figured he would be of more use out there anyway. 

His mother was already fussing over being behind schedule, even as his father tries to reason with her by saying that it was not yet ten in the morning. 

"Oh for goodness sake, don't just stand there — go on, set the table!" Ye-seo ushers her husband through the doorway, his hands filled with plates and glasses. 

Jungkook for his part, remains silent as he slices two oranges to go along as sides. The knife wasn't as sharpened as he'd like but he made no comment on it to his mother who was now frantically stirring porridge on the stove. "Will you pass me the ginger, sweetie?" she asks without glancing up. 

Knowing better than to make her wait, Jungkook abandons the fruits he'd been cutting with a nod. The pantry was a complete mess compared to the comforts of his own home and it takes him a good minute to find it as he scours the shelves. "Top left," she calls out when he took too long. 

Finally spotting the small jar, he grabs it and heads over. His mother hums out a 'thank you' as she adds a generous amount into the pot. In the distance, the echoes of Cassian's giggles can be heard, the sound is soon followed by the familiar tune of your own laughter. Without thinking, Jungkook turns his head toward the source, trying to catch a glimpse of you in the living room. 

The knife lies loose in his grip now, passively resting there as he listens to your muffled conversation in the distance. His heart does this weird leap in his chest and he tries to brush it off as quickly as it had came. 

"She's quite lovely." 

His mother's hummed comment makes Jungkook pause and he nearly gives himself whiplash when turning to back to the cutting board where the forgotten oranges lay. "Hm?" he tries to feign nonchalance as he angles the blade once more. 

"Your nanny," she continues as she stirs the porridge, "She takes good care of Cassian and Rayne." 

Jaejoon had chosen that exact moment to return, instantly tuning in to the topic as he walks up beside his wife. "She does," he agrees when placing a hand on Ye-Seo's waist, "Got her life figured out too. That's some impressive work ethic at her age, not to mention that she studies full time." 

Jungkook nods, his gaze trained to the orange he slices thinly. He takes comfort in the repeated motion as he guides the knife slowly, the thud of it hitting the wooden board ringing loud in his ears. Suddenly, his mother speaks up: 

"Is she not a bit too young for you?" 

The sudden inquiry makes him freeze, fingers curling tighter around the knife's handle. "What?" His response comes out short and colder than he'd like but he cannot help the frown that etches its way onto his face, nor the way his jaw clenches when she continues without missing a beat. 

"I mean—" she shrugs, "She's a lovely girl there's no doubt about that. But she's only twenty." 

His next swallow goes down his throat thickly, he's sure they notice. "I think what your mother is trying to say," his father interjects as he shifts uncomfortably next to Ye-Seo, "Is that there are complications when it comes to certain… age differences." 

The words bring out a bitter taste in Jungkook's mouth and he has to bite his tongue to keep himself from saying something he would end up regretting. He scoffs, grabbing another orange even when he'd already cut plenty as he forces the blade through it with more force than necessary. It was insulting of them to think that the matter hadn't kept him up for weeks now. That he hadn't even taken your age into consideration when it had in fact been on his mind for far too long. 

"I assure you there is nothing to worry about," he grinds out, "Our relationship is nothing of the sort." The lie comes easily but he makes a point of not looking up from the cutting board — he knows that his mother will see right through him if he does — part of him fears that she already has. 

In the living room the TV is still going, a dramatized sound effect from whatever movie you and the children were watching fills the dense air between him and his parents. Jungkook wills his gaze to remain on the task in front of him, even when it longs to find you. 

Ye-Seo huffs under her breath, "You take your own mother for a fool?" She means to come across as scolding but her tone is far too soft for it to ever be. Giving the porridge another stir, she turns to face him fully — his father had gone quiet next to her. 

Jungkook can feel her eyes on him though he makes no move to meet them as he mindlessly cuts away at the orange in uneven slices.

"You may have your own kids now, but you are still my son." She inhales a quiet breath, "I haven't seen you look at anyone like that since— since…" 

There's no need for her to finish her sentence. He knows who she speaks of and it makes his lips twist into a grimace. Yet, the longer he lets the thought sit with him, the more dangerous it becomes. Jungkook hadn't allowed himself closeness for a long time, for his sake and for the children. You were never meant to be any different. 

And Jungkook knows that he's being selfish. He knows that each time he kisses you he lures you deeper into a false reality that he for some reason allows himself to cling to. What he doesn't like is that his mother knows this too. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." It's a pathetic excuse that shames him to the core but he utters it anyway — hoping to bury the entire conversation. 

Ye-Seo stops stirring the porridge entirely, her expression growing almost solemn as she says, "I just want for you to be happy." But could she not see that was trying? That he had been trying for so long now — wasn't that enough? 

"I'm worried about you," she then adds, "After everything that happened with Yelena, I—" 

The knife makes a deafening sound against the tiled counter top when Jungkook slams it down, startling his mother into aborting whatever she was about to say next. He turns to his parents with his chest tied up into knots, teeth grinding against each other with an intensity that borders on painful. 

"Son…" His father finally speaks in a low, cautious voice, like one would a frightened animal. He's got a hand on his wife's hip, the other on her shoulder as he hugs her close. The pity on his face makes everything worse — so does the weak attempt at comfort that he tries to provide. 

"Don't," Jungkook spits, moving to wipe his hands on a nearby towel, "I don't need to hear it." He bunches the fabric up between clenched fists in an attempt to channel his emotions onto the unsuspecting rag. 

His mother untangles herself from her husband's embrace, taking a couple of steps in his direction. "Sweetie," her fingers caress his tense forearm, "Your father and I only mean well. What happened between you it's…" She trails off, hesitation flickering across her features before she says, "It's still affecting you." 

Jungkook knows she's right, knows they both want what's best for him. That's what stings the most. He was tired of being pitied. The month that followed at work had been torture enough. The lingering glances from his employees. The apologetic smiles and the condolences. His parents had undoubtedly been the worst — not that he ever told them. It was enough that he was hurting, he hadn't needed his mother and father's feelings on his conscience. 

"I'm fine," he turns his head in the direction of the living room as the sound of approaching footsteps reaches his ears. "Don't bring her up again," he tells them both as Cassian comes barreling through the doorway with you and Rayne in tow. 

Both his parents fall silent at that and Jungkook turns his back on them as his son comes up to show what he had drawn with his new rainbow crayons. "Daddy! Daddy! Look what I made!" Discarding the towel on the counter, he crouches down to come eye-level with the boy and as Cassian eagerly points to different parts of the painting, Jungkook glances up to peer at you subtly. 

You're smiling from ear to ear, oblivious to the conversation that had taken place in your absence. The necklace he'd given you last night sits prettily around your neck, its golden hues shimmering softly under the kitchen lights — a constant reminder of his affections, the ones he cannot bring himself say out loud — he hates himself for his own incapability. 

The uncomfortable twist of guilt in his chest returns as he regards the serene expression you wear. His parents had been right, he thinks. 

Jungkook was taking more than he could offer in return — a selfish man he was. 

── [ ✉️ ] Okay... Peeking out from behind my hands very nervously right now. Hopefully the quality wasn't horrible, it was even harder to write this from Jungkook's POV which I did not expect so I honestly don't know how to feel. Hopefully it is okay?

The King then turned a page of the document in front of him, "What training have you been giving the soldiers?" The King asked.

"Extended drills across all battalions," Jungkook answered, "combat formations, endurance rotations, and I have been running the senior units through close-range fights twice daily."

The King nodded slowly, "And their condition?"

"Better than when I left," Jungkook replied.

"Good," The King said, setting down the document in his hand to look into the eyes of his most favored son, "I want you to prepare for war."

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

"How soon?" Jungkook asked, he wasn't surprised. If anything it was expected. Seokjin wouldn't go down without a fight that was just the Jeon in him.

"Soon enough that wasting time is no longer an option," the King replied. Jungkook’s father leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across the documents in front of him. The King has never once in Jungkook's memory appeared to be rattled by anything, which was in its own kind of unsettling and even with what he said next, The King was completely unbothered by it, "Seokjin has been building something on the border territory between the North and the South."

"I know," Jungkook responded, "Woojin has been tracking his movements since we returned. We also have one of our own Demons positioned near their camp."

"And?" The King asked. 

"The Demon is too low in rank to be given any real information on what is happening there," Jungkook said, "he can confirm the camp exists and that Seokjin has followers, but nothing beyond that."

The King nodded slowly, "I suspect he has support from outside the North."

Jungkook thought about it for a moment, before finally asking, "Do you think it could be the Lee?"

The King laughed at his son’s response, "That," The King said, "is exactly why I have always wanted you to take over from me."

Jungkook said nothing to that, and just nodded his head at his father. 

"Yes," The King continued, his expression settling back into his usual composure, "that is what I suspected as well, but their involvement has been difficult to verify. I have not sensed their energy crossing into the North ground. They seem to be careful enough to keep every communication on their own side of the territorial line, which means my sight does not cut cleanly through it."

"So you cannot confirm it," Jungkook said.

"I cannot confirm the full picture of what Seokjin is planning," The King agreed, "but I am old enough to know certain things without needing to see them directly. The Lee has always wanted northern border territory. They have wanted it for generations but never had a clean enough opportunity to take it. An alliance with the Jeon's first-born prince in exchange for an army is exactly the kind of arrangement the Lee would not refuse."

"Seokjin has always been better at reading what other citadels want than at reading what his own citadel needs," The King added, "it is one of his strengths but also the reason he will never be a good king."

Jungkook looked at his father, then sighed before telling him his opinion, "Seokjin will try to kill the both of us. He cannot hold the North throne with either of us alive."

"No," The King simply agreed with his youngest son, "he cannot."

There was silence for a few seconds before Jungkook shared confusedly, "I just cannot seem to understand why he took _____ to Kratos"

The King looked at his son and smiled before answering, "To check how far you will go for her. Seokjin has always understood you better than you liked to believe," The King continued, "he attacks the thing most likely to make you react without thinking. He took the human girl because he knew you would feel it more than you would feel a blade."

Jungkook said nothing to that because what was he supposed to say, really?

"Was he wrong?" The King asked quietly.

Jungkook looked away from his father for the first time since entering the study, his gaze moving to the window and the red sky beyond it.

The King did not pressure Jungkook to answer, because the silence was enough of an answer for him.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

You woke up sore, which reminded you immediately of the night you spent with Jungkook. You laid still for a moment, blushing at the thought of Jungkook's body above yours, and you just stared at the too-high ceiling of the North tower room.

You turned your head slowly to the other side of the bed, already knowing that you would find an empty bed. Jungkook came and he left, and you were not sure yet whether that bothered you or whether you were relieved by it.

You pressed your face into the pillow for a few seconds before pushing yourself upright.

You swung your legs off the bed and stood up slowly, then you walked towards the bathroom, washed your face, and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes still caught you off guard sometimes, the black with the deep red lines threading through it. Your horns stopped surprising you somewhere around the end of the second week, which felt like its own small milestone. You looked at them now and accepted that they were yours, even if you didn’t choose to be this.

You turned away from the mirror before your head started overthinking.

On the stool near the door, there was a new set of clothes. You noticed it immediately because it wasn’t there when you fell asleep, which meant Woojin came in at some point and left them there without waking you up. There were leather trousers with a sleeveless leather top. Exactly the kind of thing every other Demon woman in this citadel seemed to wear.

You picked up the top and held it out for a second, took one good look at it before getting dressed.

The past two weeks have been less depressing than the first one. You thought about that as you prepared yourself to get out. The first week was the worst of it, the grief sitting so heavily that even getting out of bed felt like hell, which was funny because you are in hell.

But somewhere in the second week, things have changed slowly. 

Jophiel has a lot to do with that. He came every day without fail, brought books and even a tub of Baskin Robbins, and he sat with you every day just to talk. Jophiel never pushed you to accept things as they are. He just shows up, which turned out to be the most useful thing anyone could have done for you.

Woojin had something to do with it too, even though he was probably forced by his “master”. He never said anything, he never asked how you were feeling, and he would probably rather live in Heaven than admit he developed any fondness for you. But he brought food every day, he stayed when you asked him to, and he answered your questions about anything you wanted to know. Coming from Woojin, that was basically a declaration of friendship.

And Jungkook.

Jungkook was trying. You could see it, even when sometimes it came out wrong, even when he said things in ways that didn’t comfort you at all. Jungkook was trying in the only way he knew how, which was infuriating. But the night Jungkook finally came into your room and lowered himself to his knees in front of you, it changed the dynamics between the two of you. You are still angry at him. But you were also, quietly and against your better judgment, glad Jungkook was here.

You smiled at the thought of Jungkook as you opened the door and headed downstairs.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Ymir was already at the overlook when you arrived, sitting on the same stone bench where you first met her, one leg crossed over the other, looking out at the valley below. She turned her head when she heard your footsteps and her face lit up with the same wide smile she gave you yesterday, "You came!" Ymir greeted excitedly.

"I said I would," you smiled as you sat down beside her.

"Demons say things and then don't do them constantly," Ymir said, standing up and stretching her arms above her head, wings spreading slightly behind her, "it is practically an instinct for a Demon to not do what they said they would do. So yes, I am happy you came."

You smiled at her and looked out at the valley for a second, "So," you said, "where are we going?"

Ymir smiled and gestured for you to follow her, "Down."

The path from the citadel to the lower districts was longer than it looked from above.

"The citadel sits at the highest point," Ymir said, gesturing to the citadel without looking back, "everything below it is arranged in layers. The closer to the citadel walls, the higher the rank of the Demon living there. The further out you go, the more ordinary everything becomes."

"Ordinary?" you asked curiously, following her down the steps.

"Yes, in the districts furthest from the walls, Demons are not thinking about citadel politics, war, or territory disputes, they think about their daily lives and living it," Ymir answered. 

You listened as the steps leveled out and you finally stepped on the street in the town below the citadel.

And the town was surprising, to say the least.

You built an image in your head of what the area below the citadel would look like, dark with the same stone as everything else in the North citadel. And the same exact stone was there, yes, but the streets were alive in a way you did not expect. Demons walked through the streets in clusters and some alone, some carrying things, some talking in doorways, and some sitting outside of shops.

"There are markets here," you said, surprised at the view in front of you.

"Of course," Ymir said, coming closer to stand beside you, "what did you expect?"

"I don't know," you admitted, "I think I expected everything in Kratos to look like the citadel, like it was built to prepare for war and nothing else."

Ymir laughed, genuinely amused at you, "The towns were built because Demons still need to converse, eat, trade, and have something to do that is not fighting."

She started walking again and you followed beside her.

The buildings along the streets were made from the same dark stone as everything else, but they weren’t all the same. Some were low and wide, and they were packed with things being sold or traded. Others were taller and narrower, probably homes, you thought to yourself.

"What are they trading?" you asked, looking at the nearest building.

Ymir followed your gaze, "Weapons, mostly or components for armour, blades, and materials for strengthening them. The North is first and foremost a military territory, so that’s where most of the economy starts."

“Are all the shops like this further down?” you asked again.

“Further down it gets more varied,” Ymir replied, “food, building materials, repair supplies, cloth, medicine, tools, basically the kind of things any place needs to keep running.”

"Demons get sick?" you wondered out loud.

"Not often," Ymir laughed, "and rarely, but yes, there are injuries, particularly from training and conflict, and there are conditions that affect Demons that require treatment. That's why there are healers in every district."

You looked at a Demon walking through the street ahead, balancing a wide flat container on one arm. The smell hit you a second later, it smelled rich and heavy in a way you couldn’t name. Your new Demon senses recognised it as food before your brain even caught up.

"Do Demons cook?" you asked.

"Yes," Ymir said, "but Demons do not require food the way humans do, hunger is not the same thing here. But we feel pleasure in eating and there is a culture built around it. Certain foods are associated with certain districts, occasions, and even ranks."

"So food has status attached to it," you mumbled.

"Everything in Kratos has status attached to it," Ymir replied, "but in the lower districts it is less rigid. Down here, food is more about tradition and community than hierarchy."

Ymir led you around a corner, and the street opened up into something similar to a city square in human terms, with buildings on every side and a group of Demons gathered near the middle.

You stopped walking when you noticed three Demons were playing some kind of instrument in the city square. The instruments were nothing you have ever seen before, one was a stringed instrument larger than a cello, another was a percussion instrument made from what appeared to be dark stone bowls of varying sizes, and the third Demon was singing.

The sound was nothing like anything you have heard on earth. It was a sound so slow and deep.

"I didn't know that there were instruments here," you said, "I don't know why I didn't expect it. I think I assumed Kratos was just," you gestured vaguely at the citadel behind you, "that."

"Kratos is many things," Ymir replied.

“What are they singing about?” you asked.

“That song is really old,” Ymir answered, “it’s about how the North was founded. The first Jeon claiming the territory, and what it cost him.”

“Is it a celebration?” you asked, wondering if this was their version of an independence day song.

“Not exactly,” Ymir said, “celebration means joy, and the founding of the Jeon citadel wasn’t exactly joyful, it was more the need to survive.”

You looked at her, “That’s a very dark way to think about history.”

“It’s a North Kratos way of thinking about it,” Ymir replied, “the other citadels celebrate their foundings. The Min have festivals, the Kim have ceremonies, and the Lee have parades with their whole army. The North remembers what it costs them to get here.”

With that in mind, the music made more sense to you than it probably would have before, and as Ymir started walking again, you followed her.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The next street ran along the edge of what Ymir called the artisan district, “This is where the makers are,” she said.

The buildings here looked different from the ones near the square. They were wider, with higher ceilings, and a lot of them were open on one side. You slowed down at almost every single one, looking in curiously.

In the first one, a Demon was working with metal. It didn’t look like she was making a weapon, but she seemed to be shaping something smaller and more detailed. Her hands moved carefully, pressing and turning a piece of dark metal until it slowly started to take shape.

"Armour fittings," Ymir said, before you could ask her what the Demon woman was doing, "she is shaping the smaller components that hold the larger pieces together, they matter as much as your weapons."

“Is that their job?” you asked, “making armour fittings?”

“Yes,” Ymir answered, “in the North, most demons have a role in keeping the citadel running. Soldiers are the most obvious, but they’re not actually the majority. For every soldier, there are several demons doing the work behind them. Makers, builders, healers, traders, and administrators in the upper districts who handle the logistics of a territory this size.”

"Administrators," you repeated in surprise, "Demons do administrative work?"

"Someone has to manage the supply lines," Ymir said, almost amused at your surprise, "someone has to track the food stores, weapon inventories, movement of soldiers between posts. Someone has to ensure the lower districts have what they need to function. becasue war requires organisation as much as it requires strength.”

You thought about what Ymir said as you passed the next building where you saw two Demons working on what looked like cloth.

"So…. there's a whole economy here," you said, "a whole society."

"Of course there is," Ymir laughed, "did you think Demons just fought and slept?"

"Honestly," you shyly admitted, "yes.."

Ymir laughed again, "That is the impression the citadel gives, I know. But the citadel is designed to give that impression. It is designed to look like a fortress, kingdom, and nothing more."

You passed a building that was clearly residential, and you could hear children’s voices coming from somewhere behind the stone walls, which made you stop walking.

Ymir stopped beside you, “Young ones,” she explained, before you could ask.

“Demon children,” you said.

“The North does not have many,” Ymir said, “but they exist. Mostly in the lower districts. Soldiers in the upper barracks rarely have young ones, that life is not suited for it. But the makers, traders, and healers in the districts sometimes do.”

You looked away from the house, “What about schools?” you asked, keeping your voice steady even when you couldn’t help but feel sadness rushing in, “do they have education here?”

"Not in the way you mean," Ymir said, starting to walk again, "Demon children learn from their families first or from the Demons around them. There is no formal schooling, knowledge in the North is passed directly, teacher to apprentice for specific skills, parent to child for the rest. The older a Demon gets, the more they absorb from their territory, even the way young ones learn is partly instinct and partly that absorption. A Demon born in the North does not need to be taught that their home is freezing cold and that they need to quickly adapt to survive, it just knows it."

"And a Demon who was born a human?" you asked quietly.

Ymir went quiet for a moment, "That," she answered carefully, "is something I do not have a full answer to. I do not think any other Demon does."

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The furthest district from the citadel walls was the oldest part of the lower town.

You noticed the difference in the buildings right away. The stone here was rougher, and the structures weren’t as uniform as the ones closer to the citadel. The streets were quieter too, and most of the Demons walking through them looked older than the ones you’ve seen in the upper districts.

"The founding families settled here first," Ymir explained, "before the citadel was built above them. Before the Jeon established the upper territory as their seat of power, this was where the North began."

"Some of these structures predate the citadel?" you asked.

"Some of them predate almost everything still standing in Kratos," Ymir said.

You walked back through the districts slower than before, taking a different route this time, walking through a section Ymir called the lower market, which was pretty much exactly what it sounded like.

The smells here were different from the artisan district. Richer and more mixed together. There was food you didn’t have names for along with materials and other things your new Demon senses could somehow tell apart, even if your human brain was still trying to figure out what it was.

"What do Demons use for currency?" you asked curiously.

"Depends on the district," Ymir answered, "in the upper districts, influence and rank are the primary currencies. A favour from a senior soldier is worth more than almost any material exchange. In the lower districts, they primarily trade, materials exchanged for materials, skills exchanged for goods."

"Is there no concept of money or coins in Kratos?"

"There are tokens," Ymir smiled at you. 

A regular Demon probably wouldn’t be able to answer your questions, but Ymir did and luckily, you had no way of knowing what most Demons did or didn’t know. 

Ymir, or Eris, was a Kim after all. Her kind knew more than most.

"The North uses tokens for exchange when direct trade is impractical. Most demons here have been in the same district their entire lives, which means they know their neighbours well enough to trade on trust," Ymir continued. 

"Does that ever go wrong?" you asked.

"Constantly," Ymir said, which made you laugh.

You stopped at one of the stalls, drawn by a smell you could not identify.

The Demon behind the stall looked at you, reading you the way every Demon in the North read you when they first saw you. There was a pause in which you braced for the familiar hostility for. Then the Demon reached over and set a small piece of something dark and dense on the surface in front of you, "Try it," he simply said.

You looked at Ymir, who gave you a small nod, then you picked it up and put it in your mouth.

It was unlike anything you have eaten before. Rich and slightly bitter, and your eyes widened involuntarily. The Demon behind the stall watched your face with the satisfied expression of someone who already knew what reaction they were going to get.

"What is it?" you asked.

"Fermented night root," he said, "harvested from the deep stone. It takes two hundred years to prepare properly."

"Two hundred years," you repeated.

"Patience is not difficult when you have enough of it," he said, shrugging his shoulders, and went back to his work.

You stood at the stall still surprised at what you just ate, then looked at Ymir, "That was the best thing I have eaten since arriving here."

"His family has been making it for as long as anyone can remember," Ymir said, as she began to walk again, "he considers the two hundred year fermentation the short version."

You glanced back once at the stall, and the Demon was already focused on something else entirely, unbothered and absorbed in work that has clearly been his entire life and would continue to be his entire life for longer than you can fully imagine.

You thought about Jophiel saying that time not running out might eventually feel freeing, you were not there yet. But walking through the lower district of North Kratos, eating something a Demon spent two hundred years preparing, you thought that maybe you understood, just slightly, what Jophiel meant.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

By the time you and Ymir made your way back up the long path towards the citadel, the red sky darkened by a shade, which meant it was now evening in the North.

You were tired from having walked a long distance, but you thought the journey was worth the pain, "Thank you," you said to Ymir when the citadel walls came back into view above you.

Ymir glanced back at you, "For what?"

"For today," you said, "for showing me that this place is more than what it looks like from up there."

"It is easy to only see the citadel," Ymir answered, "especially if the citadel is the only thing that has interacted with you since you arrived."

"Is that why you came to find me? Because you thought the citadel was the only thing I had seen?" you asked. 

Ymir smiled at you, "I came because you looked like someone who needed a friend," she said, "and because I was curious about you."

"Curious how?" you asked.

"Curious about someone who talked back to senior soldiers on their first day," Ymir answered, "most Demons who were born here would have kept their heads down, but you did not."

"I was furious," you said.

"I know," Ymir replied.

You looked at Ymir, the Demon woman who appeared on a stone bench beside you, and offered you the first kindness you were given in the North. You felt the suspicion you have been holding since yesterday ease slightly.

"Same time tomorrow?" Ymir asked.

You thought about Jungkook's warning the night before, and then you thought about the lower districts, and the Demon who spent two hundred years on something worth sharing even with a human-Demon.

"Same time tomorrow," you answered, smiling at Ymir.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

You came back to your room that evening with a head full of everything you just saw in the lower districts. The music in the square, the fermented night root, everything. You sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off your boots, then set them neatly by the door out of habit you were used to on earth, and then just sat back on the edge of the bed.

It was actually a good day.

You were still sitting there when you felt the change in the air that meant Jungkook was walking towards your room.

Jungkook knocked on your door, and you appreciated it more than you had expected to, "Come in," you said.

Jungkook walked across the room without speaking and sat on the couch right across your bed, placing his arm along the back of it, "How was it?" he asked.

"Good," you answered, and then, because the day was genuinely a good day, you wanted to talk about it more, "better than good, actually. I didn't expect what I saw. Ymir explained all of the things we walked past, which was really helpful.”

Jungkook's jaw tightened slightly at the mention of her name, but he said nothing about it. You also noticed how his demeanour changed but chose not to address it. 

You looked at him across the room, and thought about how strange it was that this was your life now. Sitting in a room in a Demon citadel with the Demon who had, depending on your mood and the time of day, ruined your life and saved it.

"Come here," you said, pointing at the spot next to you on the bed.

Jungkook looked at you for a few seconds, like he couldn’t believe his ears, before moving from the couch to the bed without any argument, sitting beside you with enough space between you. You leaned back against the headboard and looked at the ceiling.

"Can I ask you something?" you said.

Jungkook didn't say anything and just looked at you from the side, waiting for your question. 

"When you were in the studio," you said cautiously, "all those centuries, what did you think about?"

Jungkook was quiet for long enough that you thought he might not answer, "Kratos, at first," he said, "the citadel, my father, the politics of what I left behind. I spent a long time running through scenarios; what Seokjin would do, what the court would do, whether my father would intervene."

"And then?" you asked.

"And then I ran out of scenarios to think about," he said, "there are only so many possibilities of a situation you can work through before you have exhausted all of them. After that there was just the room."

"That sounds unbearable," you said.

"It was," Jungkook answered "for a long time it was.”

"What were they like?" you asked, "the other tenants before me."

"Afraid," he said, "all of them were afraid in different ways, some loudly and some quietly. But the fear was constant. You were afraid too," he chuckled, "but you were also annoyed and fiery, which was new."

You let out a small giggle, "I was extremely annoyed."

"Yes," he agreed, "it was interesting though.”

"I'm still annoyed at you," you said, which was true, but it also did not stop you from leaning into his shoulder.

"I know," Jungkook said.

"I'm going to continue being annoyed at you," you added.

"I know that too," he said.

Jungkook turned his head toward you slowly, his gaze dropped from your eyes to your mouth and back to your eyes again.

His fingers gently lifted your chin, moving your face toward his and you let him.

The next second, you felt his lips pressed against yours softly, like he was almost too careful, it was as if Jungkook was aware of how fragile the moment was.

You felt his thumb move along your jaw, the familiar cold of his skin against yours that no longer startled you the way it once did.

When he pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, Jungkook gave you a small smile. You looked back at him in the dim light of the North tower room, at the curve of his horns and the dark red lines threading through his eyes.

Then, Jungkook kissed you again, even slower this time.

And you let yourself stop thinking entirely.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Jungkook was already gone when you woke up, which was normal, but this time there was something different about his absence. You sat up slowly on the bed, and noticed a piece of dark paper on the couch across from the bed, which wasn’t there last night.

You crossed the room and picked it up.

The writing on it was not like any script you have seen on earth, but your demon senses read it without effort, which you were still getting used to.

“War preparations begin today. I will not be available for the next few days. Stay inside the citadel walls if you can. Woojin knows where I am if you need anything.

And don’t forget to eat something.”

You read it once.

Then you read it again just to make sure.

War preparations.

You stood still in the middle of your room with the note in your hand and you were confused, angry, upset, all at once. Jungkook didn’t mention anything about a war happening, he didn’t tell you anything last night. He laid beside you last night and said almost nothing about what was actually coming. 

War preparations. 

As if that was a normal thing to just leave on a couch, like two words were sufficient explanation for whatever was currently pulling him away from everything else, from you.

You set the note back on the couch and stood there for another moment, feeling frustrated of caring about someone who communicated in the absolute minimum number of words required.

Then you looked at the last line again.

And don't forget to eat something.

You let out a bitter laugh.

Of course Jungkook, the Demon prince of North Kratos, is preparing for a war he did not tell you was coming, but remembered to remind you about dinner.

You were going to have a few words with him about this when he comes back to visit you, whenever that was.

you sighed when you realised that over the next few days, there would be no Jungkook or Jophiel, who mentioned the last time you saw him, that he had obligations in another realm that would keep him away for at least one week. And Woojin would rather remove one of his own horns than have an unprompted conversation with you.

So, you got dressed and went to find Ymir.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Ymir was where you expected her to be, at the overlook, sitting on the stone bench. She looked up at you when she heard your footsteps, "I heard the prince has locked himself in the war rooms," she said.

"He left me a note," you said, sitting down beside her.

"How romantic," Ymir said, and her tone was flat and unamused, but you shrugged it off. Maybe Demons just don’t care about romance. 

Ymir tilted her head at you before asking, "How much time do you have today?"

"All of it," you said, "apparently."

She stood up from the bench, stretched her wings briefly behind her, and said, "Then we're going to the ridge."

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The eastern ridge was further than anywhere you have been in Kratos. Well, it wasn’t like you’ve been traveling much here, but today was another first.

You left the lower districts behind and followed a path that ran along the citadel’s outer wall before turning east. It took around an hour by foot, and the ground here was uneven, with dark stone forming in sharp angles and casting long shadows under the red sky. 

"This is border territory," you said, after you have been walking for a while, not knowing how you knew this information, but it’s probably your Demon senses again.

"Mhmm," Ymir nodded and confirmed, "we are still well within the North. The actual border is another hour's walk east. But this is where the territory starts to change."

You followed her up the ridge until the path evened out into a wide and flat stretch of rock. From there, the view looked completely different from anything you’ve seen in the citadel or the lower districts. You could see the North spreading out in every direction. The citadel and the lower districts gathered below it and towns and smaller fortresses farther out.

“I’ve never seen it like this,” you said as you sat down beside Ymir, and looked out over the territory.

“Tell me about the smaller fortresses,” you said, pointing toward the structures in the distance, “what exactly are they?”

"Garrison posts," Ymir said, "each one holds a battalion of soldiers stationed permanently away from the main citadel. They are the first line of response if anything crosses the border, or if anything moves within the territory that the citadel needs to know about quickly."

"So they're like outposts," you stated.

"Yes," Ymir confirmed, "the North operates in layers. The citadel is the core, the garrison posts are the ring around it, and the border patrols are the outermost layer. Between the three, nothing moves through North Kratos without being seen."

"Even Seokjin?" you asked, before you could stop yourself. You didn't know if this was a sensitive topic to the other Demons as well. But your curiousity could not be helped.

Ymir was silent for some time, "Yes, including Seokjin," she agreed, "but he knew the system from the inside and knew exactly which layers to avoid and which ones to use."

"Were you here when he was still in the North?" you asked.

"Yes," Ymir said.

"What was he like?" you asked.

Ymir looked out at the view of the territory and sighed before answering, "Charming," she said before continuing, “he was the first prince, he had his father's ear, and he seemed interested in what the lower districts needed and then he was just gone," Ymir said, "and the lower districts realised the interest he had has always been a strategy rather than genuine concern."

"Ymir," you called out.

"Yes," she answered.

"Why are you kind to me?" you asked. You know you’ve asked her a similar question before, but you wanted the reassurance that she wasn’t some Demon who would eventually betray you.

Ymir looked into your eyes, "Because I know what it is to not belong somewhere and still have no other option," she said, "my family has served the Jeon for three generations. My grandmother served the King before Jungkook's father, and now my mother and I. I was born into the North, it is the only territory I have ever known, and still there are Demons in the upper citadel who would look at me and see a lower district soldier and nothing more."

"So you understand what it is like to be dismissed by a place you live in," you said.

"Yes," she answered, "and I understand what it feels like to have someone decide what you are before you even have the chance to show them."

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

You came back from the ridge as the red of the sky darkened, with your legs aching, and your head full of everything you saw today.

Ymir left you at the path that led back up to the citadel with a promise to meet you the same time the next day.

You ate dinner alone in your room, something Woojin left on the tray that turned out to be genuinely so fucking good, and then you sat on the windowsill with one of Jophiel's books and tried to read.

You managed to read four pages before you set the book down and sat quietly.

Somewhere inside the citadel, Jungkook was in a room somewhere you didn't know, planning, laying out the pieces of something that would determine whether the North survived what was coming, whether you and him would survive it.

Although he didn’t tell you, it was pretty easy to guess that this war probably has something to do with Seokjin. You wondered how Jungkook feels knowing he would have to kill his own brother.

You pressed your back against the stone of the window frame and looked up at the red sky. You shrugged the thoughts out of you, they were useless thoughts you would not be able to figure out unless you talk to Jungkook himself.

So you picked up the book again and read until you fell asleep sitting up.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The next day, Ymir took you to the healers' district.

You did not know it existed as its own district until she mentioned it on the walk down from the citadel, to see a cluster of structures in the western corner of the lower town.

"The healers are separate from the rest," Ymir explained as you walked next to her, “the healers in the North figured that healing work needed a kind of silence the lower districts couldn’t really give.”

The healers' district was immediately distinguishable from the rest when you finally arrived in it. The streets were wider, the buildings lower, and the noise of the town dropped off by a lot. The structures here were larger than the residential buildings in other districts, with wide doorways and high ceilings visible through the windows.

"What do Demon healers actually do?" you asked.

“They treat injuries from combat, training, or fights between demons that get out of hand. There are sicknesses too, mostly from the founding energy and how it moves through a Demon’s body. Those need a different kind of treatment and the best healers in the North have knowledge that goes back to the founding," Ymir added, "they are not soldiers but they are considered essential. A citadel without good healers loses far more battles."

You passed an open doorway and glanced inside, watching a Demon working at a wide stone table, their hands moving over something you couldn’t really see. The smell coming from the building was different from everything else in the lower districts, “Can we go in?” you asked.

Ymir hesitated for just a second, “Healers are particular about visitors,” she said, “but Okla has known me since I was young, she might not refuse.”

Okla turned out to be an older Demon, you didn’t see any physical sign of aging, because Demons did not age visibly, but it was just something in her presence that was different from the soldiers and other Demons you encountered in the citadel and the districts.

She looked at you and knew exactly who you were in one glance, "The former human," Okla said.

"Yes," you said.

"Hm," Okla replied, and she just went back to what she was doing.

"What is she making?" you whispered to Ymir.

"Something for energy disruption," Ymir said quietly, "it is used when a Demon has taken damage to their founding energy connection, it is delicate work."

You watched Okla work without speaking, and she seemed unbothered by the observation. Her hands moved with the same precision you saw in the artisan district. After a few minutes Okla looked up from the containers and looked at you directly, "You are carrying a disruption," she said.

You blinked, "What?"

"Your energy," she said, "the human and the Demon energies are still fighting it each other quietly. It is not unusual for a new transformation, but yours has been extended by the circumstances of how it happened. The result is that the two parts of what you are have been working against each other rather than with each other."

"Is that dangerous?" you asked.

"Not immediately," she said, "but it will cause you difficulty over time if it remains unaddressed, such as fatigue, difficulty controlling the traits, and heightened emotional response."

"I have heightened emotional response already," you chuckled.

"More than you have now," Okla flatly replied.

You looked at Ymir, then back at Okla, "Can you fix it?"

"I can help it settle and quiet down quicker," she said, "it will take several sessions and it will not be comfortable, but yes."

"Okay," you answered, "when can we start?"

Okla looked at you, "Tomorrow," she said, "come back in the morning."

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

You and Ymir ate in the lower districts that afternoon, sitting outside one of the food stalls with things you could not name and found yourself eating enthusiastically anyway, which Ymir found amusing.

"You eat like someone who is still surprised food exists here," she said.

"I am still surprised food exists here," you said, "I spent my first two weeks convinced that everything in Kratos was black and read and violent."

"It is mostly black and red and violent," Ymir said, "but it is also this. Ah, can I ask you something?"

"Yes," you said, nodding your head at her.

"Jungkook, what is he actually like?” Ymir asked out of nowhere.

You chewed on your food slowly, thinking about the question and how to answer it, "Honestly," you said, "he is difficult, but he is also…" you paused, "trying."

"Trying to do what?" Ymir asked.

"To be something other than what he was built to be," you said, "I think.." you added sounding unsure, "although he would absolutely deny that if I said it to his face."

Ymir stared at you, "You care about him," she stated.

You looked down at the food in front of you, "It is complicated," you said.

"Most things worth caring about are," Ymir replied.

That night you sat on the windowsill again, later than you meant to, looking at the red sky and thinking about the session with Okla tomorrow and about Ymir's question and the answer you had given her.

It is complicated.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Okla’s work was, as promised, not comfortable.

You sat in the middle of the healer’s building on a stone stool while Okla moved around you. She was precise and every movement she made was controlled. She applied the compound she has been preparing the day before to specific points along your back and shoulders. Each touch brought a strange sensation with it, it wasn’t exactly painful, but it was sharp enough that your Demon senses flinched before slowly adjusting.

"Breathe," Okla said, more than once.

You did as asked. The session lasted for two hours, and when it was over you sat very still for a moment with your eyes closed.

It felt different, your body felt different.

"Come back in two days," Okla said, already moving back to her work table.

"Thank you," you said.

She made a sound that was both acknowledgement and dismissal, and you decided to just nod at her and leave Okla to be.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

You found Ymir outside waiting for you and the two of you walked back through the lower districts without any particular destination.

"She helped," you said.

"Okla always helps," Ymir replied, "she is not warm about it but she is good at it."

You walked through the artisan district, stopping at the stalls you have already been to and a few you haven’t. You got something from the food stall nearest the square, something wrapped in dark leaf that turned out to contain something sweet and intensely flavoured, and ate it while you walked. "Three days," you said, after a while.

"What about them?" Ymir asked.

"Since Jungkook got busy with the war preparations," you said, "it has been three days since I last saw him."

Ymir glanced at you, "Are you counting them?"

"No," you said, and then followed it with a shy, "maybe."

Ymir said nothing to that, which you appreciated.

"Ymir," you said.

"Yes," she answered.

"When the war comes," you said carefully, "what happens to the lower districts?"

She went quiet for a moment, "The lower districts will prepare for it," she said, "they always have. The garrison posts receive reinforcements, the healers expand their capacity, the makers will work faster. The lower districts have been through conflict before and they know what it requires."

"And the Demons in them?" you asked.

"They will continue to live. The soldiers fight for them and the districts will continue on living, because if the districts stop, then there is nothing for the citadel to protect and fight for."

"I want to help," you said, and heard the words leave your mouth before you even decided to say them out loud.

Ymir looked at you, surprised at what you just said.

"When the war comes," you said, "I want to do something. not just stay inside the citadel walls and wait. I want to be useful."

"What can you do?" Ymir asked, it was a genuine question.

“I can teach,” you said. “I can communicate, I can organise. I spent two years managing twenty-two children at once, which, honestly, is probably not that different from managing soldiers when it comes to the basic skills.”

Ymir laughed at what you said.

"I am serious," you said, though you were also smiling, "Okla said she can keep helping me," you said, "a few more sessions and she thinks the disruption can be fully settled."

"That is good," Ymir said.

"Yes," you agreed, "it is."

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

That night, Woojin knocked on your door. You were expecting a food tray, but he was not carrying one. He stood in the doorway with his arms loose at his sides, "Master Jungkook will be available tomorrow," Woojin said.

"Is he alright?" you asked.

"He is tired," Woojin said, "the war preparations are extensive and he has not slept in three days."

"Woojin," you said.

"Yes," he answered.

"Make sure he eats something," you said, "he left me a note about eating and then clearly did not take his own advice."

Woojin looked at you for a moment, he wondered if you knew that Jungkook had gone months without eating and sleeping before, simply because he was powerful enough to do it.

"I will convey the message," Woojin said just to conclude the conversation.

"Thank you," you muttered.

He turned to leave, then stopped, and turned back to look at you, which was unusual enough. "You went to the lower districts," Woojin said, tilting his head at you, "to see Okla."

You were pretty surprised that Woojin knew this.

"She is good," Woojin added, "if she says she can help you settle the disruption, she will."

“Woojin,” you said, “are you checking on me? or stalking me?”

His jaw tightened slightly, "I am conveying relevant information," he said.

"Of course," you said.

And with that, Woojin left.

Jungkook had told you someone would be following you and Ymir, but you hadn’t noticed anyone, not even once. So realising Woojin knowing exactly where you have been, and what you have done, caught you off guard. 

Whoever the Demon they have assigned to follow you around, must be one good secret agent. 

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Woojin had been gone for less than an hour when you heard the footsteps in the corridor.

You recognised the pace of the footsteps that you have learned over weeks of listening to them, and you sat up straighter on the windowsill where you have been reading.

Jungkook knocked on the door twice. 

"Come in," you said, already setting the book down.

Jungkook opened the door and stepped inside, and you looked at him before saying, "I thought you would be here tomorrow."

He walked across the room without answering immediately, and then he did something that surprised you. Jungkook sat down on the bed, swung his legs up, and laid back against the pillow with his wings folding close behind him and his eyes on the ceiling.

Then Jungkook said, "I missed you."

You stayed on the windowsill for a moment, looking at him laid out on your bed and felt the familiar mix of irritation and warmth, which has basically become the entire experience of knowing Jungkook.

You moved from the windowsill and sat on the edge of the bed beside him, "Woojin said you haven't slept in three days," you said.

"Woojin talks too much," he replied, still looking at the ceiling.

"Woojin is the only reason I know anything that is happening in this citadel," you said, "since apparently you communicate exclusively through notes that contain the minimum possible information."

Jungkook turned his head to look at you, "How were the past three days?" he asked.

You sighed before telling him about the ridge, the view from the flat rock at the top, about Okla and the healer's district, and the two parts of you slowly learning to cooperate. 

Jungkook listened to all of it without interrupting, his eyes fixed on your face. When you finished, you looked at him directly into his eyes and confronted him, "You didn't tell me about the war."

Something changed in his expression, "You don't need to concern yourself with it," he said.

"I live here," you said.

"I know," he replied.

"I live here," you repeated slowly, "which means whatever happens to this citadel and to the North Kratos happens to me as well. I am not a visitor, Jungkook. I am not someone you need to protect from information."

"I am not protecting you from information," Jungkook said, defending himself, "I am protecting you from unnecessary worry."

"That is the same thing," you said.

He looked at the ceiling again, and you could see him choosing his next words carefully, "The war preparations are handled," he said finally, "the strategy is in place, what you know the details of would change nothing."

"I want to help," you said.

"It is not needed," Jungkook replied.

You opened your mouth and he cut you off before you could say anything, "Not because you are incapable," Jungkook added, "because the role I need you in is not on a battlefield. Keeping yourself safe and inside the citadel walls is not nothing, it is the thing I need most so I do not have to divide my attention."

It was not the answer you wanted but it was also not an unreasonable answer, which was the kind of thing Jungkook does that makes him difficult to argue with.

"Will you at least survive it?" you asked, and your voice came out quieter than you intended, "will you come back from it?"

Jungkook turned his head towards you again, his expression changing into something almost insulted by the question you just asked. He wasn't angry at you, but the idea of losing has never once crossed his mind.

Of course Jungkook was going to win, that was written plainly across his face without him needing to open his mouth.

"I have no one here other than you and Jophiel," you said, "Woojin tolerates me, Ymir is a nice friend but she is a soldier. I’m guessing both her and Woojin will be gone too. Okla helps me because it is her work, and the rest of this citadel looks at me like I am something that should not exist. You and Jophiel are the two friends I have here. So I am asking you as the person who is going to be in this room waiting, will you come back?"

Jungkook looked at you before he reached over and pulled you down beside him, one arm wrapping around your shoulders, your back against his chest, and the coldness of his body radiating through your clothes the way it always does. Jungkook cuddling you helped your mind stop racing to things that might not even happen.

"It is Seokjin, isn't it," you said, after a moment. It came out as a statement rather than a question because you already knew the answer and had known it since the note on the couch.

Jungkook was quiet, then he nodded once, you felt the movement of his chin against the top of your head.

"Are you afraid?" you asked.

His arms tightened slightly around you, and he said, "Never."

You thought about calling him a liar. But his arms were around you and the war preparations had kept him away for three days and he had come back tonight instead of tomorrow because he missed you. So you decided that some things did not need to be talked about tonight.

"Okay," you said quietly.

You laid there in silence with Jungkook’s arm around you. “You should sleep,” you said softly, rubbing your hand over his. For once, Jungkook didn’t argue.

Somewhere between one breath and the next, with the silence of the citadel around you and the red sky still burning outside, Jungkook, the prince of North Kratos, fell asleep.

You stayed awake a little longer, staring at the ceiling. You thought about what was coming, about Seokjin somewhere beyond the citadel walls, building something you didn’t know the scale of, about Okla and the upcoming sessions, and the two parts of you still trying to exist in the same body. 

And you thought about how Jungkook said “Never.”

He is a Demon prince. Jungkook is powerful enough to survive almost anything. So if he was certain he will win, then you were going to believe him.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Ymir was at the overlook when you arrived, which was where she always was, but something about her this morning was different. She was standing rather than sitting, facing away from you when you came up the path, looking out at the valley below with a posture that seemed less relaxed than her usual demeanor.

She turned around when she heard you and smiled immediately, and whatever you noticed in her posture was gone so quickly you thought you might have imagined it.

"I have something to show you today," she said, before you even reached the bench.

"Where?" you asked.

"Further than we have been," she said, "past the ridge. There is a formation I have been wanting to take you to since we started these walks, and today feels like the right day."

"How far past the ridge?" you asked curiously. 

"One hour, maybe a little more," she said, "the path is clear. I have walked it many times."

"What exactly is the formation?" you asked.

“The deep stone pit,” Ymir said. “that’s where the heat under the North comes up through the ground. You can see the founding energy moving through them directly, like the actual current of the energy. It is one of the most extraordinary and beautiful things in the North, and only Demons in the North can see it.”

"Alright," you said, and hated that you said it even as the word left your mouth, because the part of you that spent months learning to trust your instincts in a haunted studio was telling you something but you were choosing not to listen to it.

You were either going to regret this choice or feel bad for not trusting Ymir, who has been nothing but nice to you. 

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The path past the ridge was different from the terrain you covered in the previous three days. The lower districts fell behind quickly, and then the ridge itself, and then you were in territory that was unfamiliar, the dark rock formations taller and more densely packed than the open ground near the eastern border.

Ymir walked ahead of you, confident and unhesitant, the same way she always walked through the North, like someone who has grown up knowing every corner of it. So you followed and paid attention to her footsteps.

The sounds of the lower districts were gone. The ambient noise of the town, the movement of Demons through streets, the distant sounds of the training grounds, all of it faded into silence.

"How much further?" you asked.

"Not far," Ymir said, "another twenty minutes."

You continued to walk. The rock formations around you grew denser, their shadows longer, and the temperature dropped in a way that was different from the North's usual cold.

And then you saw it.

The ground ahead was split open into a pit, wide and hollow, maybe fifty metres across. At the centre, the founding energy moved in a way you could actually see, it was like a river of dark red veins. 

It was, exactly as Ymir had said, extraordinary.

You stopped at the edge of it, looking down at the dark red threads, and for a moment everything else in your mind went silent because nothing in your experience, human or Demon, had prepared you for the sight of something like this.

"I told you," Ymir said beside you, whispering softly. 

"Yes," you said, "you did."

You stood there for a long moment, just looking at it.

And then something in the air changed. It was the kind of change in atmosphere that meant a presence has arrived that was not supposed to be there. Your Demon senses registered it before your mind caught up to it.

It was something that was not you or Ymir.

It was rather some other Demon.

You turned your head slowly, and Ymir was standing two steps to your left, and she was not looking at the vents anymore, she was looking at you.

And then something happened to her face.

It was like watching a mask being removed, the wide warm smile, the curious and kind eyes, and the three days were dropping away, replaced by something entirely different.

Something colder and what your Demon senses tell you is considerably more dangerous.

Ymir’s energy changed at the same moment. The energy you read as a lower district soldier, as someone born and raised in the North with three generations of family service behind her, changed and underneath it was something else entirely.

Something that was not North energy at all.

The borrowed energy of Ymir peeled away like skin.

You stared at the demon standing in front of you, who was not Ymir, who you figured has never been Ymir, and whose white eyes were looking at you with a gaze of someone who has been waiting a very long time to be exactly where they were.

"My name," she said, and her voice was different from Ymir's now, "is Eris.”

Your heart was beating loud and fast against your chest.

"I bet," Ymir, or Eris, continued, tilting her head with a huge smile across her face, "you have heard about me, honey."

You said nothing.

Your heart was slamming against your ribs but your face was still and you were trying to keep it that way because showing Eris any emotion felt like handing her something she would use against you immediately.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

You heard about her.

You remembered Jophiel who described her as intelligent, powerful, and difficult in every way. A Demon Jophiel loved, who is now currently standing three feet from you with white eyes and a smile that was not at all warm.

"Eris," you said, and you were proud of how steady your voice came out.

"There it is," she said, the smile widening slightly, "he told you about me."

"Jophiel told me about you," you said.

"Of course he did," she said, "Jophiel always was thorough. You know, your trust is easier to gain than I expected. You were so hungry for someone to be kind to you. It was almost too simple,” Eris laughed.

You put two and two together and thought of every place Ymir has taken you to, every question she answered too easily, every moment she looked at you and smiled, and suddenly it all seemed obvious.

"You did all of this," you said, "for Seokjin."

"I did all of this," Eris said, taking one step towards you, "for myself."

"You want Jungkook," you said.

"He was always mine," Eris said, "before you existed in any form that mattered. Before you were anything more than a human woman paying cheap rent. I had him and I had Jophiel and I would have kept both of them if certain beings had not interfered."

"He never desired you," you muttered.

"You," Eris said, very quietly, "are going to want to be very careful about what you say next."

"I'm already past careful," you said, "you've been lying to me for three days and you're about to take me somewhere I don't want to go. I don't think being careful is an option for me anymore. I know I will die."

Eris laughed, “At least you are smart. But I now understand why he finds you so interesting."

"That is not a compliment," you said.

"No," she agreed, "it isn't."

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

You didn't think, you just moved.

Your body moved backwards, away from her, and you let your Demon energy spike outward defensively. It was instinctive, you didn’t know how that happened but it just did.

"Interesting," Eris said, tilting her head, “you're still trying."

It was the only warning you got before she crossed the space between you. You threw up your hands to block, but Eris’s speed was nothing like what your newly-turned body could process. Her fist came at your face and you barely managed to escape it.

You counterattacked without thinking, throwing a punch at her midsection. But Eris didn't even flinch, she grabbed your wrist and twisted it, the pain that shot through your arm was a solid eight out of ten.

"Weak," Eris spat out, pulling you towards her and driving her knee toward your stomach. You gasped in pain, trying to create distance, but Eris was already moving again. Her other hand came up and caught you across the face.

Your vision blurred, and you tasted blood.

"That's better," Eris said, and there was amusement in her voice, “fight back, make this worth my time."

You pushed off the ground, launching yourself at her with everything you had. Your claws extended and you didn't remember doing it consciously, but they were out, and you raked them towards her face. Eris caught your wrist easily, but this time you have momentum, you put your other hand up to claw at her arm.

"You're adorable," she said, and threw you back to the ground.

Your back slammed into one of the rock formations, hard enough that the stone cracked under the force of your body. Eris walked towards you slowly, like someone strolling through a garden rather than someone in the middle of a fight.

You tried to push yourself up, but your body wasn't responding the way you wanted. You managed to get to your hands and knees before Eris reached you. She grabbed a fistful of your hair and wrenched your head back to look at her.

"You know what the best part about all of this is?" Eris asked, her white eyes boring into yours, "you trusted me. For three days, you walked with me and you told me everything. You told me about your students, your life on earth, how lonely you were.” 

She pulled your head back even further, and you clawed at her wrist, but your strength was fading, "Jungkook made you think you mattered," Eris continued, “that your presence here changed anything, that he even felt something for you beyond obligation and debt. But I knew better, I knew that you were exactly what I needed to remind Jungkook where he belongs."

"He doesn't want you," you managed to say, “he never did."

Eris's expression went rigid, if you thought she was angry before, well she was furious now. She pulled your head back and slammed it forward into the ground. The impact was painfully devastating, your vision went red, then white, then started to shatter. You felt blood running down your face.

"That mouth of yours," Eris said, pulling you up by your hair again, "is going to be a problem." then Eris hit you again and again.

At some point, the pain became almost too unbearable that you felt some kind of out of body experience, your body was clearly shutting down, your Demon senses were flickering like a dying light. You could taste blood and feel it running from your nose and your mouth. 

"Please," you whispered, and you hated yourself for it, but you said it anyway, “please."

Eris leaned down close to your face, and her breath was cold against your cheek, "I'm going to keep you alive," she said softly, "I'm going to keep you alive because Jungkook needs to see what happens when he chooses someone over me. I'm going to keep you alive so he can spend the rest of his existence knowing that you suffer because of him."

She pulled back, and you saw her fist coming toward your face one more time.

In that moment before her fist touched you, the last thought that crossed your mind was Jungkook. 

And then, everything went black.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Jungkook was in the middle of a combat drill with the senior battalion when The King appeared on the training grounds.

It was unusual.

The King rarely comes to the training grounds, he did not usually involve himself in the day-to-day operations of military preparation. He commanded from his tower, moved through the citadel via the upper corridors, and allowed his son to handle the grunt work of keeping the North's soldiers sharp and ready.

Yet here he was, walking across the training grounds with Woojin at his side, his presence was followe by an immediate silence. The soldiers around Jungkook stopped their drills and dropped to one knee. Jungkook straightened his posture, wiping sweat from his forehead, and watched his father approach him.

The King did not stop when he reached Jungkook. He walked until they were standing close enough that only Jungkook could hear his words.

"_____ is gone," The King whispered quietly to his son, "Eris was here."

For a moment, Jungkook didn't process what his father just said to him, "What?" Jungkook asked again.

"Eris," The King repeated with disgust, and Jungkook has never heard his father sound like this before, "The Kim demon, she was disguised in the North and she took your woman."

Jungkook's whole body went still, trying to process the information as quickly as he could, "How long has it been?" he asked his father.

"I discovered the deception around three minutes ago. I believed it just completely wore out then. They were in the deep stone, I'm guessing they would be almost out of the border by now. I have made the Eastwatch and Northpoint garrison post aware of what is happening," The King said.

Jungkook turned to look at Woojin, who met his gaze without flinching. Woojin's jaw was clenched and his tail was rigid with tension. It was the only sign that the usually controlled Demon was also affected by this.

"Seokjin," Jungkook said.

"Yes," The King confirmed, “I am guessing this was always the plan, the human was the variable. He needed you out of the North to strike and what better way than to have the thing you care about taken from you?"

Jungkook's hands clenched into fists, "Jophiel?" he asked.

"Still in his realm, but I have already sent words out," The King said, "Jungkook, I saw this coming."

Jungkook's head snapped towards his father.

"The futures where I intervened ended in the North's collapse," The King continued, “the futures where I allowed this to play out... some of them end in victory. All of them required Seokjin to kidnap ____. Now, you should take Woojin and however many soldiers you need. I will hold this citadel until you return or I will die trying."

Jungkook looked out across the training grounds, at the soldiers who stopped to watch The King and his beloved son. Then Jungkook turned around to look back at his father.

"She was supposed to be safe," Jungkook said.

"No Demon is ever safe," The King replied, “but she is yours to save or lose, choose and move wisely."

Jungkook turned around and walked away from his father and towards the armory. Behind him, he heard his father call out to the gathered soldiers, preparing the North for war.

But Jungkook's mind was already beyond the citadel walls.

Seokjin did not understand that Jungkook would burn the entire North to ashes if it meant getting you back.

And as Jungkook strapped his weapons across his body, he made himself a promise: Eris and Seokjin would beg for death before this was over.

And Jungkook would not grant them that mercy, for death would be far too easy a punishment.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Woojin stopped before he could follow Jungkook any farther, his gaze catching on the King’s expression, "You knew this would happen," Woojin said quietly to The King, “Master you knew, and you let it happen anyway."

The King did not deny it, "I saw many futures, Woojin," he said, "in all the ones where the North survives, this had to happen, the human girl had to be taken, and Jungkook needs to be in charge."

"And what if Jungkook fails?" Woojin whispered.

emails.

bad idea. he checked them anyway.

twenty-three unread messages. he answered four and ignored the rest.

he opened a news article.

closed it.

opened a spreadsheet.

closed that too.

nothing held his attention for longer than thirty seconds. his thumb drifted toward instagram without him consciously deciding to open it. the search bar already knew exactly what he was looking for.

your name appeared immediately. jungkook froze. then stared at it. for a very long time. he should not. absolutely not. 

he was a grown man. a ceo. a father. this was weird. creepy, even.

he clicked it immediately. your profile picture was exactly what he expected. a smiling selfie. pink lip gloss. big eyes. sunlight.

you looked brighter somehow, less careful.

his chest tightened. this wasn’t nanny you. this wasn’t the version that politely asked if he wanted coffee.

this was just… you.

he scrolled. a picture with your mother. another with friends. a carousel from your college’s football game. a mirror selfie. a badly decorated valentine’s cookie. a blurry picture of a sunset. a photo of a romance manga with little heart emojis in the caption.

jungkook smiled before he could stop himself. you were exactly what he imagined: sweet, earnest, hopelessly romantic.

the realization made something warm settle in his chest. then he kept scrolling. and things got worse because every new picture somehow made him like you more.

there was no carefully curated influencer aesthetic, no attempts to look cool, no thirst traps. just… you. your lunch, your dog, your mom, and your favorite manga.

there was a picture of pink flowers with a caption that simply read: pretty :)

jungkook laughed softly.

out loud.

alone.

at two thirty in the morning, like a man losing his mind.

then he found the video. his stomach dropped immediately.

it was in your highlights. you were sitting on your bedroom floor, hair wrapped in a ladybug bonnet, face bare, talking directly to the camera about your favorite manga. something called fruits basket.

but your voice… your real voice was different. not a careful employee voice.

you laughed halfway through the video and covered your mouth. the sound hit him directly in the chest. jungkook replayed it.

then immediately stared at the ceiling.

“what the fuck am i doing?”

the words echoed through the empty hotel room.

no answer came.

because deep down, he already knew.

he wasn’t looking at your instagram because he was curious.

he was looking because he missed you.

and somehow…

that realization was the most terrifying part of all.

he didn’t remember falling asleep.

one second he was staring at the ceiling.

in the next, there was sunlight.

warm sunlight, soft sunlight. the kind that filtered through white curtains and painted everything gold. jungkook blinked slowly. for a moment, he didn’t know where he was.

this wasn’t his bedroom. it was smaller, cozier. wooden beams stretched across the ceiling. lace curtains fluttered softly beside an open window. somewhere outside, he could hear birds singing.

and then he felt it. warmth beside him. his heart stopped.

you.

you were curled against his side beneath a cream-colored blanket, asleep.

your curls were messy from sleep, spilling across the pillow. your cheek was squished against his shoulder.

you somehow looked prettier like this.

his chest tightened painfully. because it felt real. so real. as though this was simply his life. as though he'd been waking up beside you for years.

your eyelashes fluttered, then your eyes slowly opened.

the second you saw him, you smiled. not surprised. not shy. just happy, like seeing him was your favorite part of every morning.

"good morning."

your voice was still sleepy with a slight rasp. jungkook couldn't answer.

you giggled softly.

"good morning, husband."

his heart nearly exploded. husband?

the word wrapped around him like a warm blanket. before he could respond, you scooted closer until your face was tucked against his neck.

"you were sleeping so hard,” you teased.

you pressed a kiss beneath his jaw.

then another.

and another.

it was small, sweet and absentminded, like you couldn't help yourself.

jungkook stared at the ceiling. he certain he was about to die.

"what?" you laughed softly.

he finally looked down. your eyes were shining, filled with so much affection it made his chest ache.

"nothing," he managed.

your smile grew.

"liar."

you kissed his cheek.

his forehead.

the corner of his mouth.

every touch felt warm.

like he was something precious.

something worth loving. something worth taking care of. and god, he wanted this. he wanted this so badly it fucking hurt.

"come on," you whispered. "breakfast."

you climbed out of bed and immediately stole one of his sweaters hanging over a chair.

the sight almost took him out.

your legs disappeared beneath the oversized knit fabric. you looked impossibly cute.

jungkook followed you downstairs. the cottage felt like something out of a storybook. wood floors. wildflowers in glass jars. sunlight pouring through every window. outside, endless green fields stretched across rolling hills.

everything felt peaceful. slow. like time moved differently here.

you hummed while moving around the kitchen.

jungkook found himself leaning against the doorway simply watching. watching you reach for ingredients, sway softly to music only you could hear, simply exist.

he could've stood there forever. you glanced over your shoulder. caught him staring. smiled.

"you're doing it again."

"doing what?"

"looking at me like that."

his stomach flipped. you only laughed, then continued making breakfast.

completely unbothered. you seemed used to being adored. that was different.

a few minutes later, small footsteps echoed from upstairs.

"daddy!"

arin.

jungkook turned just in time to catch her launching herself into his arms. he laughed. the sound surprised even him. arin grinned, her missing front tooth on full display. she looked a year or two older.

"i'm hungry."

"that's convenient," you called from the kitchen. "because breakfast is almost ready."

"yay!"

jungkook looked between the two of you.

arin immediately ran toward you.

you kissed the top of her head without even thinking. arin wrapped her arms around your waist. you smiled down at her. jungkook's chest nearly burst. there was nothing forced about it.

you loved her and she loved you. like this was how it had always been. like this was how it was supposed to be. 

his family.

his girls.

his home.

for the first time in years, the loneliness was gone. the disgusting feeling that ate him alive on mornings like these had finally passed.

and as sunlight poured through the kitchen windows, illuminating both of you in gold, jungkook felt something dangerous settle deep inside his chest.

peace.

the kind he'd spent years searching for. he'd only ever found in one place: you.

arin tightened her arms around your waist. “mama,” she whined dramatically, “i'm starving.”

jungkook froze.

the word hit him like a freight train. mama.

you didn't even react. you simply brushed her hair behind her ear and smiled.

“well, that's why we're making breakfast, silly.”

mama.

jungkook swallowed hard.

because somehow it sounded right. dangerously right. you standing there in his sweater. arin wrapped around you. sunlight pouring through the windows.

mama.

his chest hurt.

“go sit down,” he said suddenly.

both of you looked at him.

“huh?” arin blinked.

“go sit on the couch.”

you tilted your head, “why?”

“because,” he said, moving toward the stove. “i've got breakfast.”

your eyes widened immediately.

“honey, are you sure?”

the petname made him feel warm inside. it was domestic in a way he didn’t know he craved.

“what's that supposed to mean?” he recovered.

arin gasped.

“mama doesn't believe in you.”

you covered your mouth to hide your laugh, “i absolutely believe in him.”

“liar,” jungkook muttered.

“okay,” you admitted. “a little.”

arin giggled.

the sound bounced around the cottage. jungkook couldn't stop smiling.

“couch,” he ordered.

“yes sir,” you teased.

he rolled his eyes. you took arin's hand and started toward the living room. halfway there, you suddenly slowed. then glanced back at him. there was something nervous in your expression. something shy.

your fingers twisted together, “jungkook?”

he looked up from the stove. “yeah?”

you bit your lip.

“should we tell her now?”

his heart stopped.

tell her?

for some reason, he knew exactly what you meant.

he looked at you. really looked at you. the soft sweater. the nervous smile. the way your hand slightly rested against your stomach.

and suddenly, he knew. 

he knew before you said anything. jungkook’s chest flooded with warmth so overwhelming it almost brought tears to his eyes.

yes.

yes.

of course.

he wanted this.

wanted it so badly it scared him.

his voice came out rough, “yeah.”

your smile trembled, “okay.”

arin looked between the two of you suspiciously, “tell me what?”

you laughed softly, “come here, baby.”

arin climbed onto the couch beside you immediately. you pulled her into your lap. jungkook abandoned breakfast entirely.

he couldn't focus on it anymore. he stood there watching his girls.

his family.

his entire world.

you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly nervous.

“so...” you began.

arin's eyes widened.

“am i in trouble?”

“what?”

“that's how ms. herrera starts conversations with the bad kids.”

you burst out laughing.

jungkook laughed too.

“no, sweetheart.”

you kissed her cheek.

“you're not in trouble.”

“okay.”

“but daddy and i wanted to tell you something.”

arin immediately gasped.

“are we getting a puppy?”

“no.”

“a horse?”

“no.”

“a dragon?”

“i wish.”

arin frowned.

“then what?”

your hand slowly moved to your stomach. jungkook's breath caught. the sight alone nearly destroyed him. you looked beautiful.

glowing.

happy.

loved.

“there's a baby in my belly.”

silence.

arin stared.

completely frozen.

jungkook couldn't breathe.

the entire world seemed to pause.

“WHAT?”

the scream nearly shattered every window in the cottage.

you laughed.

“there's a baby in my belly.”

arin looked at your stomach.

then at you.

then at jungkook.

then back at your stomach.

“a real baby?”

“a real baby.”

“my baby?”

jungkook laughed, “our baby.”

arin shrieked. actually shrieked.

then almost launched herself at you so fast jungkook nearly had a heart attack.

“careful!” he yelled.

arin immediately froze.

“oh.”

you laughed so hard tears filled your eyes.

“thank you for being careful.”

“sorry.”

then her face lit up again.

“i'm gonna be a big sister!”

“you are.”

“i'm gonna teach the baby everything.”

“everything?”

“everything.”

you nodded solemnly.

“that's a very important responsibility.”

“i know.”

arin climbed into your lap again carefully this time, resting her cheek against your stomach.

“hi baby.”

jungkook nearly broke completely.

this was it.

this was everything.

the life he'd dreamed about.

the life he'd wanted.

the life he'd thought he lost forever.

you looked up at him from across the room. your eyes soft, teary, and so full of love.

for the first time in years, jungkook felt complete. completely and utterly complete.

then arin gasped again.

“can the baby have pancakes?”

then everything dissolved into laughter.

jungkook woke up with a jolt.

for a second, just a second, he smiled.

sunlight. warm kitchen. your voice laughing somewhere downstairs. he turned his head instinctively.

the bed was empty. cold. hotel white sheets. city lights leaking through heavy curtains. the hum of an air conditioner instead of birds.

silence. real silence. his smile faded so fast it felt like it had never existed. he stared at the ceiling, still half trapped in the dream.

mama.

the word echoed again. his throat tightened. he pressed the heel of his hand over his eyes, like he could physically push the feeling back down.

it didn’t work. because it wasn’t just the dream. it was what it showed him. what he wanted. what he didn’t have.

he let out a shaky breath and turned onto his side, but it didn’t help. the bed was too big. too empty. too clean in a way that felt wrong.

his phone lit up on the nightstand. missed calls. emails. reminders. none of it mattered.

his chest hurt in a way he couldn’t explain properly. like something was sitting there, heavy and alive, pressing into his ribs.

you were still there.

in his head.

smiling at him like he belonged somewhere soft.

like he belonged with you.

he swallowed hard.

in his dreams, you loved him back.

in his dreams, he cold hold you.

in his dreams, you were his.

now, he had nothing.

“fuck…”

his voice cracked on its own. that was what broke him. not the dream.

the fact that it felt more real than anything else in his life. he sat up slowly, elbows on his knees, hands covering his face again.

he wasn’t supposed to want this.

his daughter’s nanny.

his daughter to live in a home, not a house.

a home that wasn’t just glass walls and silence.

you.

especially you.

but the image wouldn’t leave.

you in his kitchen. your hand on his daughter’s hair. your voice saying his name like it mattered. like he mattered.

his breath stuttered.

he dragged a hand down his face, and only then realized it. he was crying. quietly.

like it was something he didn’t even notice until it was already happening. he leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling again, eyes glassy.

“i can’t…”

but there was no audience for the lie.

no one to believe it. because the truth had already taken root in him too deeply. he closed his eyes again.

and all he could see was you saying good morning in that cottage light.

jungkook’s phone rang again before he could even fully steady his breathing.

he stared at the screen.

her name.

jungkook inhaled deeply.

he almost didn’t answer.

almost. then he did.

“what.”

a pause. 

then her voice, sharp and already irritated, like he was the inconvenience.

“you didn’t respond to my email.”

he leaned his head back against the hotel headboard, eyes closing for a second.

of course.

“i’ve been busy,” he said flatly.

a short laugh on the other end.

“you’re always busy, jungkook. that’s not an excuse.”

he exhaled slowly through his nose, staring at the ceiling again.

the dream still clung to him. like warmth he couldn’t wash off. it made this feel worse. everything felt worse after that dream.

“what do you want?” he asked.

“i need you to sign the amendment for the trust agreement. the accountant says it can’t move forward without your approval.”

he closed his eyes. there it was. paperwork. money. assets.

things that had once meant something between them but now just felt like debris from a life he didn’t recognize anymore.

“i’ll sign it,” he said. “send it again.”

“i already did.”

“then you’ll get it when i get to it.”

a beat of silence. then her voice sharpened.

“you always do this. like my time is nothing.”

he sat up slightly now, something tightening in his chest.

“your time?”

his voice lowered, “you haven’t seen your daughter in almost a year.”

that landed differently.

he could feel it even through the phone.

“don’t start that.”

he laughed once, humorless.

“don’t start what?”

“don’t act like i’m the only parent here.”

his jaw tightened. he looked around the hotel room like it might offer him an exit. it didn’t.

“you are the only parent not showing up,” he said quietly.

a sharp inhale on the other end.

“i have a life, jungkook.”

something in him snapped, not loudly, just cleanly.

“so does she.”

that went quiet too. for a moment, the only sound was the faint city noise outside his window. then her voice returned, colder.

“you’re really going to do this right now?”

he pressed his fingers against his temple. he shouldn’t have answered. he knew that, but the dream had left him too open. too raw. like everything inside him was already exposed.

“when are you going to see her?” he asked.

silence stretched longer this time.

then she scoffed, “i don’t know. i’m busy.”

he stared at the wall.

busy. always busy.

“it’s been almost a year,” he said quietly.

“i know how long it’s been.”

his grip tightened around the phone.

“no,” he said, voice sharper now, “i don’t think you do.”

a beat. then her tone turned defensive.

“don’t make me the villain here. you got what you wanted, didn’t you? full custody, your perfect little life—”

he cut her off immediately.

“this isn’t about me.”

a pause.

then, colder:

“it’s always about you with everything, isn’t it?”

that hit. not because it was true. but because it used to be.he swallowed hard.

“she asks about you,” he said, quieter now.

there was a shift in her breathing.

“what?”

he closed his eyes again.

“she still asks where you are.”

that silence was different. he could hear it now. the discomfort. the avoidance. the thing she didn’t want to sit with.

then her voice came back, defensive again, but softer at the edges.

“kids say things.”

he laughed under his breath.

“she’s not a ‘kids say things’ kind of kid. she remembers everything.”

nothing.

“well, what do you want me to do about it, jungkook?”

there it was. the exhaustion in her tone that had nothing to do with motherhood.

just inconvenience. he stared at the floor now. the hotel carpet. expensive. meaningless.

“i want you to show up,” he said simply.

a pause.

then she scoffed again, like the idea itself offended her.

“i can’t just drop everything.”

he let out a slow breath. his voice came out lower now. controlled. tired.

“you already did.”

silence.

and for the first time in the entire call, she didn’t respond immediately.

he stood up and walked toward the window.

city lights below. people moving. living. going somewhere. he felt completely outside of it.

“i don’t have time for this right now,” she finally said.

he almost laughed.

“you called me.”

she didn’t apologize.

didn’t soften.

didn’t ask about arin.

“sign the documents. bye.”

the line clicked dead. jungkook stood there for a long moment, phone still against his ear.

then slowly lowered it. the silence came back heavier than before. he exhaled shakily, dragging a hand through his hair.

and for a second, just a second, he pictured your voice instead. soft, warm, worried about him in a way that made no sense. he pressed his forehead against the glass window. his reflection looked tired. too tired.

his phone buzzed again. he almost ignored it.

then he saw your name.

his entire body reacted before his mind did. he answered too fast.

“hello?”

“hi… sorry, i know it’s really early.”

his grip tightened on the phone. you.

you didn’t know it, but you were doing something dangerous just by existing in his morning.

“it’s fine,” he said quickly, a little too quickly. then cleared his throat. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing’s wrong,” you rushed to reassure him. “i just—i’ve been thinking about something all night and i didn’t want to forget to ask you.”

he sat down on the edge of the bed without realizing it. all night.

you had been thinking about something.

something involving him. his chest tightened in a way that felt immediate and unfair.

“okay,” he said more gently. “what is it?”

a small inhale on your end. he could picture you right now without even trying. sitting somewhere. maybe curled up. maybe holding your phone close like this mattered more than it should.

“so…” you began carefully. “arin gave me something yesterday.”

his brows knit slightly.

“what did she give you?”

a tiny pause.

then your voice turned brighter.

“an invitation.”

he blinked.

“…an invitation.”

“for her school play,” you explained quickly, almost nervously now. “she wrote my name on the list. she said she really wanted me to come.”

jungkook stopped breathing for a second. that was so simple. so small. somehow it hit harder than anything else had all week.

arin didn’t just like you. she wanted you there. he pressed his fingers against his forehead.

“oh,” he said quietly.

he could hear you fidgeting through the phone.

“i didn’t want to assume anything,” you added. “i know i’m just—i’m just her nanny, so if it’s not appropriate or if you already planned—”

“no.”

the word came out too fast. too sharp.

he swallowed.

“no, it’s… it’s fine.”

you paused.

“oh.”

he closed his eyes briefly. why did you sound like that?

like you were hoping for something but didn’t want to say it out loud.

like him.

he stood up again and started pacing without thinking.

“you should go,” he said.

a beat.

“really?” you asked softly.

he stopped walking. that softness in your voice did something to him he couldn’t name.

“yeah,” he said, then added quickly, “she’ll be really happy.”

there was a tiny pause.

“okay,” you said, quieter now. “i’d really like that.”

his throat tightened. too honest. you were too honest.

he exhaled slowly, trying to regain control of his voice, “we can go together.”

instant silence.

“…together?” you repeated.

he froze.

oh.

that sounded…

he ran a hand through his hair, immediately flustered.

“i mean—” he started, too fast now. “not like—i’m not saying it’s a thing, it’s just—i’m going anyway. so. i’ll drive. and you’re going. so it makes sense.”

he stopped.

realized he had just made it worse.

on the other end, you let out a small sound that might’ve been a laugh you were trying to hide.

“right,” you said softly. “that makes sense.”

he exhaled. relief.

then immediately panic came again. 

because now it was real.

him.

you.

arin’s school play.

together.

like a family outing.

like something that absolutely should not feel like a date but suddenly did because his brain refused to behave.

he cleared his throat.

“we’ll meet at my place,” he said more carefully. “i’ll drive you both.”

“okay,” you said.

a pause.

“thank you for letting me come, mr. jeon.”

his chest twisted again. he leaned back against a wall, eyes closing for a second.

“you don’t have to thank me,” he said quietly.

but you always did.

you always made him feel like things he gave were gifts instead of obligations.

like his attention mattered.

like he mattered.

there was a small rustling sound on your end.

“i should let you go back to work,” you said gently.

he glanced at the empty hotel room.

work.

right.

“yeah,” he lied automatically. then added, softer, “i’ll see you later.”

your voice warmed.

“see you later, mr. jeon.”

and then the call ended. he stayed still for a moment. phone still in his hand. staring at nothing. his heart was beating too fast. too loud, like it didn’t understand boundaries anymore.

he looked down at the floor and let out a shaky breath.

this is not a date, but his chest didn’t listen.

neither did the way he was already looking forward to seeing you again.

••••

your mom rolled her eyes, “let me get this straight.”

you immediately covered your face with both hands, “oh no.”

“the little girl you nanny for invited you to her school play.”

“yes.”

“and now your ridiculously attractive rich boss wants to pick you up and take you there.”

heat crawled all the way up your neck.

“don't call him that.”

“which part?” she asked. “ridiculously attractive or stupid rich?”

“mom.”

“sweetheart.”

you groaned.

your mother looked entirely too pleased with herself. you had made a terrible mistake telling her this. a horrible mistake.

“it's not like that.”

“right.”

“it's not.”

“of course not.”

“mom.”

she pointed her coffee mug at you.

“sweetie, if a handsome man calls a woman and says, 'i'll pick you up and we'll go together,' it’s a date.”

“it's not a date.”

“did he specifically say it wasn't a date?”

you opened your mouth.

then closed it.

he had. sort of. except he'd sounded so flustered while saying it that somehow it made things worse.

your mother immediately noticed.

“oh my god.”

“what?”

“he didn't, did he?”

“he just said it made sense because we're both going.”

“and he wants to drive you there.”

“because arin will already be there.”

“mhm.”

“and it would be easier.”

“mhm.”

“and—”

“sweetheart.”

you buried your face in your hands again.

your mother laughed.

“you're blushing.”

“i'm not.”

“you absolutely are.”

you groaned dramatically.

somewhere over the last few months, you'd developed the most embarrassing crush imaginable. the kind of crush that belonged in a middle school diary. the kind where seeing someone's name on your phone made your stomach flip. the kind where you'd accidentally spent twenty minutes deciding what sweater to wear because there was a microscopic chance he might see it. the kind where you'd catch yourself smiling after conversations and immediately feel ridiculous.

it was awful. absolutely awful. because he was jungkook—successful, handsome, kind.

the kind of father who forgot permission slips but never forgot to kiss his daughter's forehead before school.

the kind of man who looked exhausted all the time but still made time for arin.

the kind of man who listened when you spoke. really listened.

your mother watched your expression carefully.

then her smile softened.

“oh.”

you looked up.

“what?”

“you like him.”

your stomach dropped. 

“mom.”

“you do.”

“i do not.”

“sweetheart, your entire face just changed.”

you grabbed a couch pillow and threw it at her. she caught it effortlessly.

“i'm serious.”

“so am i.”

“it's just a crush.”

“that's how liking someone starts.”

“i'm not doing anything about it.”

your mother's expression softened further.

“i know.”

you looked down at your lap.

when you fantasized about jungkook, you weren't imagining anything big. your fantasies were smaller. sillier.

you imagined him smiling at you.

holding your hand.

bringing you coffee.

telling you that you looked pretty.

you imagined sitting beside him at arin's school play and feeling his shoulder brush yours.

you imagined him looking at you the way romance novel heroes looked at their heroines.

that's all. just little things. crush things. the kind of things that made your stomach flutter.

“it's harmless,” you mumbled.

your mother nodded, “i know.”

“and he'll never like me back anyway.”

that earned you a look.

“don't do that.”

“do what?”

“talk about yourself like that.”

you picked at a loose thread on your sweater.

“he's just...”

“him?”

you nodded.

your mother hummed.

“sweetheart.”

“what?”

“every time you talk about that man, you sound like a disney princess.”

“mom!”

she laughed.

“i'm serious.”

you threw another pillow.

“leave me alone.”

“never.”

you groaned again. but despite yourself, you smiled.

the thought of seeing jungkook tomorrow made you excited.

even if it absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent wasn't a date.

your phone lit up. jungkook. your stomach immediately dropped.

“oh my gosh,” your mom whispered.

“stop.”

“answer it.”

“i'm not answering it in front of you.”

“you absolutely are.”

before you could argue, she lunged across the couch and smacked the speaker button.

“mom!”

“shh!”

“hello?” you answered quickly.

“hi.”

just one word and somehow your mother was already silently losing her mind beside you. jungkook sounded tired, but warm. maybe a little hesitant.

“sorry,” he said. “am i bothering you?”

“no.”

you said that way too fast. you winced.

“uh, no. you're okay.”

your mom grabbed a throw pillow and pressed it over her mouth.

“good,” he said quietly.

a small silence settled. comfortable. awkward. both.

“i was thinking about the play.”

your heart started beating faster.

“okay.”

“i realized something.”

“what?”

“i have to drop arin off pretty early.”

you tucked your legs beneath you.

“how early?”

“about two hours before it starts.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

another pause.

“there's kind of a gap.”

“a gap?”

“between dropping her off and the actual play.”

“right.”

jungkook cleared his throat.

“there's this little restaurant nearby.”

your stomach flipped.

“restaurant?”

“yeah.”

his voice got quieter.

“mom and pop place.”

your mom's eyes bulged.

“they make really good pasta.”

your mom began aggressively smacking your arm.

“ow!”

“what?” jungkook asked immediately.

“nothing.”

your mother looked seconds away from passing away.

“are you okay?” he asked.

“yes. i just… bumped into something.”

“anyway,” he continued carefully. “i was thinking we could get dinner while we wait.”

silence swept across the line. this felt suspicious. very suspicious. you glanced toward your mother. she looked like she was witnessing history.

“if you want,” jungkook added quickly.

too quickly. “o-only if you want.”

oh. 

he was nervous too. that somehow made it worse. or better. you couldn't tell.

“with arin?” you asked.

“well...” he hesitated.

“she'll already be backstage.”

your mom nearly fell off the couch.

“so it'd just be us,” he finished.

your face immediately felt hot.

“right.”

“but not like—”

you almost laughed.

“i know.”

“okay.”

“okay.”

both of you fell silent again. your mother buried her face in a pillow.

“so,” you said softly, “you want to have dinner together?”

the second the words left your mouth, you realized how they sounded. apparently so did he, because he immediately stumbled over himself.

“i mean—not like—well yes. technically. but i just thought—”

you laughed. actually laughed. the sound seemed to relax him immediately.

“sorry,” he said.

“don't be.”

“i'm making this weird.”

“a little.”

he groaned. your smile widened.

“it's okay.”

“it's not.”

“it is.”

you could practically hear him rubbing his face.

“i'm trying to be normal.”

“you're doing great.”

“you're lying.”

“a little.”

that earned a laugh from him. the sound made your stomach do something embarrassing.

“so,” he said. “you'll come?”

your heart squeezed. he sounded genuinely hopeful.

“yeah.”

his exhale was immediate. like he'd been worried you'd say no.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“okay.”

another pause.

“good.”

you smiled.

“good.”

your mom looked ready to throw herself through a window.

“then i'll pick you up at five?”

“okay.”

“okay.”

neither of you hung up.

“well,” he said eventually.

“well,” you echoed.

“i should let you go.”

“probably.”

“okay.”

“okay.”

another pause.

“bye.”

“bye, mr. jeon.”

his voice softened.

“bye.”

the call ended. silence. three seconds.

four.

five.

your mother exploded.

“that man is taking you on a date!”

“mom!”

“a date.” she repeated.

“it's not a date!”

she shook her head, “he asked you to dinner.”

“because there was time to kill!”

“alone!”

“because arin will be backstage!”

she looked like she was a moment away from passing out, “at a romantic mom and pop joint.”

“how do you know it's romantic?” you buried your face in a pillow, “you're being dramatic, mommy.”

“i am being correct.”

“mommy.”

“sweetheart.”

you groaned. she pointed dramatically at your phone.

“that man likes you.”

“he does not.”

“he called you.”

“about arin.”

“he called you to ask you to dinner.”

“it is not dinner.”

“what is it then?”

you opened your mouth. paused. closed it again.

your mother gasped, “oh my gosh.”

“stop.”

“you don’t even have an argument for me anymore,” she shook her head.

you threw a pillow at her. she caught it, still grinning.

“i'm buying a new outfit.”

“for what?”

“you.”

“mom!”

“for your totally-not-a-date date.”

author’s note:

I’M BACK!!! i missed writing so much during my hiatus/vacation, i’m happy to be back. hopefully a juicy chapter like this makes up for my absence😋😋 thank you so much for reading and stay tuned for the next chapter + an upcoming onshot!!!

xoxo,

kandi

He's the one who asked you to come.

That's the thing you keep turning over as you stand near the edge of the living room, a drink condensing in your hand, the party loud and warm and full of people you mostly don't know. Come, it'll be fun, I want you there — that's what he said, and so you came, because you always come when Jungkook asks. You spent thirty minutes on your hair. You wore the top you know looks good on you. You told yourself it didn't mean anything, that you just wanted to look nice, and you almost believed it.

You haven't seen him in an hour.

"He probably got distracted," your friend Mina says, reading your face with the ease of someone who knows you too well. "You know how he is at parties."

You do know. That's the problem.

You get another drink and try to let the music loosen something in your chest. You talk to people. You laugh. You are, by any observable measure, having a fine time.

And then you see him.

He's across the room near the hallway, and he's not alone. The girl beside him is beautiful — genuinely, effortlessly beautiful, the kind that makes you do a quick, involuntary inventory of everything you're not. Long dark hair, a laugh that makes her whole face open up, and she's looking at Jungkook like he's the only person in the room.

He's looking back the same way.

You've seen him do this before. The focus he turns on a girl he's interested in — that particular quality of attention, like the rest of the world goes a little quiet. You've always told yourself you were fine with it. That you understood. That this is just who he is.

But he asked you to come tonight. He said he wanted you here. And now he's guiding her toward the hallway with a hand at the small of her back, and the party is still going and the music is still playing and you are standing right here, and he hasn't looked in your direction once.

You feel stupid. Not heartbroken — that comes later, when you're alone — just stupid, in the hollow, immediate way of someone who dressed up for nothing.

"I'm going to head out," you tell Mina, and your voice comes out steadier than you expected.

She looks at you, then toward the hallway, then back at you. She doesn't say anything. She just squeezes your arm.

You make it outside before your eyes start burning.

Across the room, you don't notice Taehyung watching you go.

Jungkook wakes up to grey morning light and the sound of careful movement — drawers opening, the soft friction of fabric.

The girl — Yuna, he remembers — is already dressed and pulling her hair up, her back to him. There's something in the posture. Finished. Ready.

"You're leaving?" he asks.

She glances back, and she's kind about it, which almost makes it worse. "I have brunch with my sister." She finds her bag. "Last night was fun."

"You could stay," he says. "I can make breakfast."

She smiles — a real smile, just not the kind that means yes. "I'm okay. I'll text you."

She won't. He knows this the way he's come to know a lot of things: quietly, without wanting to.

He hears the front door close. He lies there for a while looking at the ceiling, and something in him is tired in a way that sleep doesn't fix.

He picks up his phone.

You answer on the third ring, voice soft with morning. "Hey. Everything okay?"

"Yeah," he says. "I don't know. Can I come over?"

He ends up on your couch with a cup of coffee you made him, his feet on your coffee table, staring at nothing.

"She left before I was even awake," he says. "Didn't even — I offered to make her breakfast and she looked at me like I'd said something weird."

You curl your feet beneath you and hold your own mug in both hands. You know exactly what happened. You've watched Jungkook do this for years — the girls he goes after are always a particular kind: beautiful, a little remote, more interested in the performance of something than the actual thing. He lights up around that energy and then wonders why it burns out so fast.

But you love him. So.

"You deserve someone who wants to stay," you say. "That's not too much to want."

He looks at you sideways. "How come it never works out?"

Because you keep choosing girls who are already halfway out the door and calling it chemistry. "I think you're just looking in the wrong places," you say instead. "The right person will want the whole morning. Not just the night."

He's quiet for a moment. "You make it sound simple."

"I know it's not." You look down at your coffee. "I just think you'll find it."

He exhales through his nose, leans his head back. "Yeah," he says, half to himself. "Maybe."

You sit there beside him in the morning quiet, close enough to touch, and you do not touch him, and you take a sip of your coffee, and you are almost completely fine.

Jungkook's apartment, a Tuesday night, controllers in hand, Taehyung losing spectacularly and pretending he's not bothered. They've been doing this since they were nineteen. The comfortable repetition of it is its own kind of language.

"Hey," Taehyung says, eyes on the screen, too casual. "Is she single?"

Jungkook's thumbs stall for half a second. "Who?"

"You know who."

He does know. The specific quality of the question — that light, interested tone — lands somewhere unpleasant in his chest, and he isn't sure what to do with that, so he does nothing.

"Yeah," he says. "I think so."

Taehyung nods, like this is useful information, and Jungkook turns his attention back to the game and does not say anything else, because there is nothing to say. She's his friend. Taehyung is his best friend. There is no reason for the thing coiling quietly in his stomach right now, tight and unnameable.

A few minutes pass.

"Can I get her number?"

"Tae —"

"What? I'm asking. I'm being respectful." He puts down his controller and holds out his hand, palm up, waiting.

Jungkook looks at that hand for a moment. Something in him wants to say no — not for any reason he can justify, just instinct, just some dull protective alarm going off.

He hands over the phone.

He watches Taehyung type out a message, something charming and self-assured — because that's who Taehyung is, effortlessly sure of himself in a way Jungkook has always appreciated until approximately right now — and send it. They both look at the phone.

The reply comes in under two minutes.

Sure, I'd love that :)

Taehyung laughs and sets the phone down. "See? Easy." He picks up his controller again, satisfied with himself, the way a cat looks after knocking something off a shelf. "She said yes fast. I still got it."

Jungkook picks up his own controller. "Don't be weird about it."

"I'm not being weird. I'm just saying." He shrugs. "She's cute. I don't know why you've never —"

"Don't," Jungkook says, and something in his voice makes Taehyung glance at him, and then let it go.

They keep playing. Jungkook wins by a wide margin, which never happens, and Taehyung accuses him of sandbagging.

Jungkook doesn't tell him he barely saw the screen.

The bar Taehyung chose is nice enough. Good music, low lighting, the kind of place designed to make everyone look better than they are. You sit across from him and you smile and you ask questions and you are, technically, present.

Except.

Except you keep thinking about the way Jungkook laughs when something genuinely catches him off guard — how his whole face scrunches up, how he goes silent for a second before the sound comes out, like his body can't process it fast enough. You think about his eyes, so dark they're almost black in dim light, and the way they go soft when he's comfortable, when he's with someone he trusts. You think about the way he falls asleep on your couch sometimes, head tipped back, and he looks younger when he sleeps, and you always turn the TV down.

You wonder if he's with someone tonight. You wonder if he's doing that thing — turning that particular quality of attention on a girl across a room, making her feel like the only person in it.

The thought makes your chest feel like a bruise being pressed on.

"—and she absolutely lost it," Taehyung is saying, laughing at his own story, and you laugh too, a beat behind, hoping it lands right.

You get another drink.

By the third one, the edges are softer and the music sounds better and you're almost here, almost in this bar, almost on this date, and then Taehyung reaches across the table and puts his hand over yours and says, low, "You want to get out of here?"

And there it is. The way he's looking at you — assessing, interested, but not curious. Not the way you'd want someone to look at you. Just: he likes what he sees, and he'd like to have it.

You pull your hand back slowly. "I don't think so."

Something shifts in his expression. Not meanness, just — surprise, and then a quick recalibration, the confidence reassembling itself over the crack. "Yeah?" His voice has cooled. "Okay."

He stands. Leaves money on the table. Gives you a tight smile that doesn't reach his eyes, and then he's gone, coat on, out the door, and you are sitting alone at a bar table with your drink and the noise of the room pressing in on all sides.

Your eyes burn. You tell yourself you're not going to cry in public.

You take out your phone.

You almost don't call. It's late. You're a mess. But you scroll to his name and you press it before you can think too hard about it, and he answers on the second ring —

"Hey —"

"Jungkook." And your voice does the thing you didn't want it to do, cracks right down the middle of his name. "Can you — I'm sorry, can you come get me?"

A pause. Not hesitation — thinking. "Where are you?"

You tell him.

"Don't move," he says. "I'm on my way."

He finds you outside, and the look on his face when he sees you — the way it tightens, jaw setting, eyes going dark — isn't at you. You can tell the difference.

"Did he hurt you?" he asks.

"No." You shake your head. "He just — he left. He wanted something I wasn't going to give him, and when I said no, he just left." You laugh at yourself, and it comes out wrong, thin and wet. "I shouldn't have come. I knew how he was, you were right."

Jungkook doesn't say anything. He steers you toward his car, hand gentle at your back, and gets you settled in the passenger seat. He turns the heat on without being asked.

He's quiet as he drives, and you can feel the anger coming off him in waves, controlled and careful but real.

"Why did you even go?" he asks, and his voice is rough. "You've been around Tae for years. You know what he's like at the start of something."

"I know." You look at your hands. "I was lonely."

Silence.

"I wanted to feel like someone actually wanted to be around me." The words are easier than they should be — that's the drink talking, smoothing over the places where your self-preservation usually lives. "Like I was someone worth choosing."

"You are —"

"You don't choose me." It comes out flat. You hear it land and you don't take it back. "You never choose me."

He says nothing. You stare at the dashboard, and the city goes by, and the careful architecture of everything you've never said is just gone now, collapsed, and you're tired enough and sad enough that you almost don't care.

"I'm in love with you," you say to the window. "I've been in love with you for years, and you don't even — you don't look at me, Jungkook. You look through me. You invite me to parties and then disappear and I'm standing there feeling like an idiot, feeling like — like I dressed up for nothing, again, like I always do, and you're —" Your voice breaks. "You're chasing some girl down a hallway and I'm the one who came because you asked me to."

"I know." His voice is so quiet you almost miss it.

"You didn't even notice I left."

"I know." Quieter still.

The tears come properly now, and you press the back of your hand against your mouth and look out the window and let them, because you're too tired to stop them and because you're drunk enough that you'll probably forget this whole conversation anyway, and maybe that's the only reason any of it is coming out at all.

At a red light, Jungkook reaches over.

He takes your hand.

Not a quick, comforting squeeze — he actually takes it, laces his fingers through yours, and holds on. You look down at your joined hands and then up at him, but he's watching the light and his jaw is still tight and his expression is doing something complicated that you're too blurred at the edges to fully read.

The light goes green.

He doesn't let go.

He doesn't let go the whole way to your apartment, and when he walks you to your door and you're loose-limbed and half-asleep, he stands there in the hallway light for a moment and looks at you.

"I'm sorry," he says. "About the party. About tonight. About —" He stops. "All of it."

"It's fine," you mumble.

"It's not." He says it firmly. "It's not fine. Go to sleep."

He waits until you're inside. You hear him on the other side of the door for a moment, then his footsteps going back down the hall.

The next morning, you text him: sorry for the mess last night, thank you for getting me.

He replies: don't apologize. how's your head?

You send him a grimace emoji and he sends back a laughing one and that's that.

You don't remember what you said in the car. Only that he came when you called and held your hand and said I'm sorry like he meant it.

Something is different.

You notice it in pieces over the following weeks, small things you can't quite assemble into a clear picture. He looks at you now — really looks at you, the way you've spent years wishing he would. Long enough that you glance away first, because you don't know what to do with it.

He comes over on a Wednesday and asks if you want to cook together, which you've done a hundred times before, but this time he stands close when you're at the cutting board. Too close, maybe, close enough that you're aware of the warmth of him, and when you accidentally set your hand on the edge of the hot pan and hiss — nothing serious, barely a sting — he's already beside you, cool water from the tap running over your finger before you've even processed what happened, his hands careful around yours.

"You okay?"

"It's nothing." But he doesn't let go right away. He holds your hand under the water and checks it and then looks up at you, and you are very close, and his expression is strange and intent and you have to look away first, again, like always.

Another night — video games, the same as always, except he loses three rounds in a row, which never happens. You glance at him and catch him watching you with a small smile instead of the screen.

"You're going to lose," you say.

"Yeah," he says, like this is acceptable information.

On a Sunday evening you watch a movie, and he sits beside you on the couch, closer than usual, and somewhere in the second half you're aware that he keeps looking down at your hand. Not reaching for it. Just looking, the way someone looks at a door they're not sure they're allowed to open.

He doesn't reach for it. You sit there, heart quiet and waiting, watching the movie you're no longer watching.

You don't say anything either.

Something is different. You're just not sure yet if you're allowed to believe in it.

The knock comes on a Saturday afternoon.

You're not expecting anyone. You open the door and there is Jungkook, and he's wearing a nice shirt with the sleeves pushed up, and he has flowers — just a loose, slightly imperfect handful of them, like he picked them because he thought you'd like them, not because anyone told him to. His tattoos peek out along his forearm and his hair is slightly unsettled, like he's been running a hand through it, and he looks absolutely terrified.

You've never seen him like this. Jungkook who walks into rooms like he belongs there. Jungkook who catches every eye without trying. Standing at your door in the late afternoon light looking like the ground might not hold him.

"Hey," you say.

"Hi." He looks at you. Then down at the flowers. He holds them out and something about the gesture — how it's not smooth, how he seems to have forgotten how hands work for a second — makes something loosen in your chest. "These are for you."

You take them. "What's —"

"I'm sorry." He says it before you can finish, direct and plain. "For the party. For a lot of things before that, things I should have — I wasn't paying attention to you the way I should have been, and you deserved better, and I knew that on some level but I didn't —" He stops. Takes a breath. "I didn't let myself really see it."

You hold the flowers and you don't say anything.

"I see it now." His voice drops, quieter. "I see you now. How good you are. How you've always been — I don't know how I spent this many years with you and didn't —" He breaks off, frustrated with himself. "You're so beautiful. And I know that's not the whole thing. But I mean it."

He looks up at you.

"I want to take you out," he says. "A real date. Properly. I want to do this right, if you'll let me. I know I'm late." He almost laughs at himself. "I'm so late. But I'm here now, and I mean it."

Your eyes are already burning. This is ridiculous. This is the conversation you wrote out in your head during a hundred quiet moments you were never going to tell anyone about, and it turns out it sounds the same out loud.

You step forward and put your arms around him, flowers pressed between you, and he catches you — wraps around you instantly, completely, like he's been waiting too, his arms coming tight around your back and his face dropping into your hair.

You stand in your doorway and you breathe.

When he finally pulls back it's only a little, just enough to look at you. He lifts one hand and brushes the tears from your cheek with his thumb, so careful, like he can't believe he's allowed to touch you like this, like he's afraid to get it wrong.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks quietly.

You nod. You can't speak.

He kisses you softly — careful and then sure, one hand curved against your jaw, and the flowers are crushed slightly between you and neither of you care, and he kisses you like he's been thinking about it, like he wants to get it right.

When he pulls back he rests his forehead against yours and exhales, slow, like he's been holding that breath for longer than he knew.

You stand there in the doorway. His hands on your face. The afternoon light going gold.

The engine light had already lit up some miles back, but you decided to ignore it and just pray you’d make it to your destination. But now, after driving along empty country roads, seemingly endless, with only a few small towns in between breaking the monotony of the scenery, the lights on your dashboard start to flicker and the radio keeps cutting out.

“Shit,” you curse out loud before asking your phone for the directions to the nearest auto repair shop.

Your already shitty air con has totally given up. Beads of sweat are starting to collect on your upper lip as you follow google maps through the scorching heat. Thank god it’s only a few more miles until you pull into a small town off the desert road. This little hick town seems to just be made up of one main road, with a few homes off to the side.

“In 0,2 miles your destination will be on the left,” your navigation lets you know. A minute later you pull up in front of the repair shop with your Buick Century and turn off the ignition. You exhale in relief, at least you made it to the garage. You don’t want to imagine being stranded at the side of the road in the desert, not in this weather.

You let your head fall on the steering wheel that you are gripping with both hands, already worried about how much money you’re going to have to throw at your rust bucket. You step out of your vehicle finally, looking around. There’s what seems to be a small convenience store across the street, a man in denim dungarees and cowboy boots sitting in front of it, smoking. You snort - all that’s missing is a damn banjo.

What comes to your mind immediately is the horror movie cliché of a car breaking down in some rural backwater town and what happens after. You’ve watched countless of them - Wrong Turn, House of Wax, The Hills have Eyes. You don’t have any plans to end up as a final girl to a clan of inbred hillbilly psychos. Hopefully, whatever is wrong with your Buick is fixed quickly so you can be on your way.

You walk into the repair shop through a glass door next to a bigger gate for cars to enter and look around for an employee, unsuccessfully.

“Hello?” you ask into the empty space. There’s a front desk, but it’s unoccupied.  Please, don’t let this place be actually closed down already for the day.

“Back here,” you suddenly hear a voice sounding from further back. Relieved, you scan the perimeters to find the source, peeking around a corner.

You find the actual workshop of the garage, multiple cars with open hoods standing around, but you don’t see anyone. Reluctantly, you walk between vehicles, not sure if you are even allowed in here, until you almost stumble over legs sticking out from under some Toyota sedan.

“Um, hi?” you address the jeans-clad legs.

“One sec,” a voice replies and a moment later you hear tools clanking to the floor before a man emerges from under the car.

And, well, he’s really not someone you expected to find in a rural backwater town. It’s not the outfit either, he’s just wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, both smeared with motor oil and grease. What surprises you is the fact that one of his arms is covered in tattoos, down to his fingers, and his ears are decked out in multiple silver hoops. He smiles at you, a piercing through the side of his lower lip, while he wipes his hands on the bandana tied to his pants.

Usually, when you have to bring in your rust bucket, the mechanics crack some sort of unfunny misogynistic joke at your expense before trying to rip you off with unnecessary repairs you didn’t ask for. So that is what you steel yourself for when you tell the dude that your Buick started breaking down as he walks you to the front of the shop.

He clicks open the automatic garage door and tells you to drive your car inside for him to inspect it.

But, shit. When you try to switch on the ignition, it’s dead.

The mechanic comes up to your rolled-down window. “Doesn’t start huh?”, he correctly assesses. “Put it in neutral, I can just push it inside.”

“Sorry,” you mumble, trying to move the shift stick to neutral, without success. It doesn’t budge without the engine being on.

You shrug your shoulders at him in a helpless manner, making him laugh. “Ah, automatic,” he hums before opening the driver door and pulling a screwdriver from the back pocket of his jeans.

Without warning, he’s suddenly in your lap, leaning over you to access the middle console. You would’ve moved out of the way had he warned you. But now this, admittedly very attractive, guy is brushing his tattooed arm against your thighs all non-chalant as he wriggles his screwdriver around the plastic by the gear stick. With one last satisfied hum, he finally moves the stick to the neutral position.

You just dumbly stare at him with hot cheeks when he retreats from your space again and he tells you about some manual switch he pushed. “Oh, sorry,” he apologizes when he sees your startled expression. “I didn’t get dirt on you, did I?” He wipes at the fabric of your pants with his hands, grimacing at himself as in the process, as he actually does brush some grease on it, making him panic slightly. “Shit,” he mutters but you stop him before he can apologize again or spread even more black gunk on you.

“Don’t worry about it,” you laugh, his display of sudden clumsiness making you relax again. He stands up straight, scratching at his neck before collecting himself and moving to the back of your Buick.

“It’s good to go now. Just let go of the brake and steer, alright?” he yells from the back and then the car is slowly rolling. You can’t help stealing a glance at him through your rearview mirror.

His brows are furrowed and the muscles in his shoulders are tensed as he’s pushing the car by its bumper. You can even make out the vein on his forehead popping out a little. The fact that you’ve always had a thing for feats of strength is almost making you forget to steer until his voice forces your eyes to snap back to the garage in front of you.

“Little to the left,” he yells and you comply, maneuvering your car into the workspace.

You pull the handbrake and get out of the driver's seat once you’re in a good spot.

“I’ll pay to get your jeans cleaned,” he tells you with a lopsided smile as he eyes your soiled pants before he walks to the front of your Buick.

“Let’s take a look at your baby,” he says as he yanks open the hood. “I already have a suspicion.”

While he’s checking out the engine compartment, you take a stroll around the shop, trying to pass the time and ignore the dread blooming in your chest about how much this repair is going to cost you.

On the wall behind the counter you spot the usual sexy calendars of women in pin up clothing posing on the hoods of old-timers. Maybe he’s just like all the other mechanics you encountered after all. You quietly chuckle just as you spot another poster among the sexy ladies though. This one has a half-naked man propped against some motorcycle, probably a Harley Davidson. Oh, a man of varied tastes apparently. Feels a little out of place for this small town, once again.

When you hear the hood of your vehicle being slammed shut, you hurry back to the mechanic.

“Yup, I was right,” he tells you, trying to wipe some of his dark hair out of his face with the back of his hand, smearing grease on his forehead in the process. “Alternator’s shot.”

“That sounds … bad?” you reluctantly more so ask than state.

“It just needs to be replaced. Good news first, it’s not a lot of work so I’ll be done in like an hour,” he lets you know. “Bad news - I need to order it in.”

You groan, but you are relieved to learn that at least it’s not as expensive as you feared. The fact that this part will only come in tomorrow though - Shit.

He types your information into his computer and places the order for the new alternator.

“Are there any hotels or something close by?” you ask him once he’s done and comes back around the counter to lean on it.

He shakes his head with an apologetic look on his face. “The closest motel is like two towns over. And it’s a bit of a shit hole.”

That doesn’t sound too inviting, but given your choices, what else are you supposed to do?

“Can you give me the address? I’ll get an Uber to drive me there I guess.”

“Good luck on finding any Ubers out here. We’re basically out of their operating zone.”

Your shoulders slump in defeat as you let your hand holding your phone drop to your side again.

“I’ll take you,” he offers, already on his way to your Buick. “Get your bag.”

You would usually not consider getting into a car with a stranger, but your options are kind of limited here. He can probably sense your hesitation, because he cocks his head to the side and smiles. “Wouldn’t advise accepting rides from strangers, but I can’t have you stay on the street,” he speaks up. “I’m Jungkook, by the way. I’ll give you my ID and everything, you can send it to a friend with your location.”

This won’t help you if he decides to murder you, but you are tired and in need of a shower, so you just sigh and open your car, quickly packing some things you need for an overnight stay into your backpack before shouldering it.

Apparently it’s time to close shop, or maybe he can just decide since he’s the only one in here, but he leads you out the back and locks the door behind him. You won’t question it, you are just glad that you will be able to rest soon. The long drive was becoming torturous anyway.

“Where’s your car?” you ask, looking around the street behind the garage.

Jungkook grins and points towards - oh please - a motorcycle. No way. Well, maybe that explains the leather jacket that he put on just before. You were wondering why he needed it in this scorching heat.

“Pretty, huh?” he muses when you look at him with wide eyes. “It’s a Fat Bob 114.”

Oh sure, whatever that string of random words means. He can’t seriously expect you to get on the back of this. For a moment, you reconsider just walking the streets tonight.

“I don’t even have a helmet,” you try to weasel your way out.

To no avail, since he produces one from behind his back and hands it to you. “Good thing I keep a spare around.”

He’s already stuffing his own backpack into the satchel on the side of the bike, while you fiddle with the helmet. You’ve never even put one on before and when you plop it down over your head, your hair gets caught in front of your eyes.

You hear Jungkook’s muffled laugh and then he steps in front of you, pulling the helmet back off.

“Lemme help,” he mutters while pushing your hair behind your ears while he clamps the headgear between his thighs to free his hands.

The intimate gesture brings heat up your neck and all you muster is a quiet “Thank you.” Then he gently pulls the helmet down and closes the plastic visor with a grin.

“All set,” he pats the top of the protective headwear before putting on his own. He swings his leg over the bike and motions for you to get on behind him.

“Just hold on to me,” he tells you.

You somewhat clumsily climb on and consider just gripping the side of the machine, but as soon as he turns his keys and the bike roars to life, your survival instinct kicks in and you sling your arms around his waist. 

He pulls off into the street and soon you’re leaving behind the small town and with it your broken-down car.

Jungkook, thankfully, seems to be considerate of his passenger, because you are pretty sure he’s not even going the speed limit. You still cling on to him for dear life, probably choking him out, but he does not complain. You’re not particularly fond of not being encased in metal while on the road is what you’re learning right now.

After a few miles and your body starting to cramp from clutching on to Jungkook and the bike, you pull up in front of a motel. The parking lot is full of trucks, rarely any regular cars. Jungkook helps you off the motorcycle and takes off his helmet. He seems to be wondering about the amount of trucks, as he raises his eyebrow. Carefully, he removes your helmet for you as well before you can even try to do it yourself. Your hair feels damp and matted, making you cringe slightly as you run your fingers through it.

Jungkook retrieves his backpack from the satchel and pockets the keys.

“This must be a regular stop for truckers to rest, huh?” you wonder out loud to which Jungkook shakes his head.

“Not usually.”

Picking through the small compartment of your backpack, you finally find some tissues. 

“Can I just..?” you ask Jungkook, gesturing towards his face with the towelette. 

He seems to be confused but doesn’t stop you from wiping at his forehead. You clean the smear of grease off his skin and pocket the tissue. 

“That’s better,” you smile at him and when he locks his big soft eyes with you, the corners of his mouth upturned, it makes you gulp. His gaze flickers down to your lips for just a fleeting moment. 

With both helmets in hand, he walks you to the check-in counter, where you find the most unenthusiastic-looking clerk you’ve seen in your life.

“Hello,” you address him. “I need a room, please.”

“Really?” he responds in a mocking tone. “Who would’ve guessed that?”

Jungkook slams one of the helmets on the counter, startling the guy.

“Mind checking if you have any available?” he intervenes, a fake smile plastered on his face. One could mistake it for a snarl if it wasn’t for his politeness. With his hand planted firmly on the counter and the muscles in his arm tensed, the clerk seems to have taken the hint. 

Woah. Apparently he’s not one to mess around with. It’s kind of hot.

“Alright, alright,” the clerk gives in, suddenly very meek and sheepish, and checks his computer.

“Seems like you’re out of luck, everything’s booked,” he shrugs his shoulders. “There’s some trucker meet-up happening close by, they basically overran the motel.”

Jungkook and you sigh simultaneously. What the hell are you supposed to do now? You really don’t want to go on another road trip if you can avoid it. He pulls out his phone, scrolling furiously, probably trying to figure out an alternative as well.

“Ah, wait,” the clerk suddenly perks up. “There’s someone checking out in a bit. Once we’ve cleaned up the room, it’s yours.”

Oh, thank god. You couldn’t care less that the place is run-down and the employee is a shithead. You’ll just shower and head to bed anyway, maybe scroll a bit on your phone. The aesthetic or lack thereof doesn’t really matter, unless you’ll find suspicious stains on the pillows. Which, to be fair, is not that unlikely, now that you think about it.

“We have a bar,” the employee tells you with an exasperated sigh, as if this was the hardest he’s ever had to work. “You can wait there. It’s gonna be like 2 hours max.”

You nod and turn to Jungkook, who looks a little disgruntled.

“Uhm, will you come pick me up again tomorrow? I kinda don’t have a ride.” The fact that he has to drive you again is gnawing at your pride, but he said it himself, no Ubers around.

He looks at you, quizzically.

“I’m not gonna let you wait around here by yourself,” he shakes his head. “I’ll stay with you until the room’s ready.”

Before you can even start arguing that you don’t need an escort, he’s already placed his hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the bar. For whatever reason you just let it happen. You’re a grown woman, you don’t need a white knight to look out for you. But also, some company would be nice instead of sitting around all alone, just waiting for time to pass. Since he’s also nice to look at, why shouldn’t you indulge a bit longer.

The bar is just as dingy as the rest of the place. All the seats are worn, tears across the old leather.  The room reeks of stale smoke and cigars so bad that you scrunch your nose as you step in.

There’s two guys sitting at the bar drinking beer. By the looks of it it’s not the first one of the day either. Probably some of the truckers the clerk mentioned.

Jungkook pushes you into the booth of a table, sliding in next to you without taking his eyes off the dudes at the bar, and shrugs off his leather jacket. Sitting next to each other when you’re only two people has always been weird to you, makes it kind of awkward to chat.

“What do you want to drink?” he asks from beside you.

You take out your phone, checking the time. It’s 7 pm. You could do with a beer as well, so you tell him and he moves out of the seat to get your drinks.

You watch him from your table, only to realize that the two men are staring you down, one even cocks his eyebrows at you. Disgusting. You pull a face at him, but that doesn’t seem to deter him at all, grabbing at his junk while his mate laughs along.

Jungkook is watching this play out, you can tell when his back stiffens. He’s coming back with two beers in hand, immediately sitting down next to you on the bench again, so close this time that your thighs are touching.

“What are you doing?” you ask him, surprised when he puts his arm on the backrest behind you.

“Sorry, but I’m not gonna let those two sleazebags get the impression that you’re here by yourself, no chance,” he grumbles before picking up his glass and taking a big gulp.

The fact that he’s doing this only for show makes you feel a tinge of disappointment, which is just dumb. He’s just being nice, you tell yourself, also reaching for your beer, trying to relax with him being so close to you. It’s not because he’s making you uncomfortable, rather the opposite. You just seriously need to chill.

“How much was it?” you ask him, pointing to your drink, to which he just waves you off.

“Take it as compensation for me putting grease all over your jeans,” he smiles at you.

For a while you two just sit there, his arm around you, sipping away on your beer quietly. Jungkook shoots the gross dudes death glares every now and then. To which you are thankful because the thought of being in here alone with them makes you shiver. Maybe you were in need of a white knight actually. Just this once.

“So,” Jungkook breaks the surprisingly comfortable silence. “Judging by your plates, you’ve been on the road for a while, huh?”

You hum in agreement. “Just a road trip to visit an old friend of mine. Never been to this part of the country.”

“I can tell,” he laughs.

“And you?” you proceed to ask. “Have you ever been out of these parts?”

Jungkook’s fingers tapping away softly on your shoulder while he talks makes blood rush to your cheeks. 

“Not really, I grew up around here. Only gone as far as the surrounding cities.”

“So you like living here then?”

He shrugs his shoulders as if he doesn’t really have an opinion on it.

“It’s just, you don’t seem like a small town kinda guy,” you continue when he stays silent.

“Now, why’s that?” he looks at you with a smirk, visibly amused now.

You just motion at his tattooed arm and the piercings, trying not to say anything he might take offense to. It’s his home after all.

Luckily, he doesn’t seem to be offended at all, because he chuckles at your assessment.

“You know, the next city is just like an hour’s drive away,” he lets you know between laughs. “We’re not cut off from civilization. Not totally.”

You chat away for a while, mostly just small talk. He never takes his arm off your shoulder while you learn that he owns and runs the repair shop by himself and you tell him that you’re in between jobs right now.

You’re laughing at a funny remark Jungkook dropped when the clerk pops his head in.

“Room’s ready,” he lets you know before he trudges away again.

“Before you try to argue - I’m walking you to the room.”

You figured.

So after picking up the key from the front desk, you make your way outside and up some stairs to find your assigned room with Jungkook close behind. On your way there, you can hear some loud bellowing laughter from behind doors as well as a smashing sound, as if a vase or something broke. This really doesn’t feel that welcoming after all, you think as you yank open the dilapidated door. It’s not even hanging straight in its hinges, so you have to lift it up slightly so it doesn’t catch on the floor. Yikes.

Both of you walk inside and Jungkook looks around the room after putting the helmets on a wobbly sideboard.

“What a nice view,” you joke, having walked up behind him to the window, looking down at the parking lot. The laughter gets caught in your throat when you can hear someone loudly fighting outside. When you peek out the window again, you see that it’s two big guys shoving each other and yelling, beer bottles in hand. Please let this night go by fast, you plead silently. You brought your earphones so hopefully you can drown out anything that might go on outside, be it murder or an orgy. You thank whoever invented noise cancelling in advance.

Jungkook turns to you. “Look,” he starts with a serious expression. You have a feeling you know where this is going, so you walk up to the sideboard and push his helmet towards him.

“Thank you for everything, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Jungkook shakes his head and doesn’t move even an inch.

“I can’t let you stay here,” he says, decidedly. “Not by yourself. You’ve seen the kind of guys that hang around here!”

You liked his savior antics earlier, but you still have some pride left.

“I’m not some damsel in distress in need of saving,” you scoff and walk to the door. “I’ll just lock up and sleep by myself like a big girl.” You jokingly wiggle the lock around before realizing it’s almost falling apart at your touch. Oh. This actually doesn’t bode well with you.

Jungkook looks at your wide eyes with a quirked brow, waiting for you to reconsider what you just told him. And you do. Damn.

Then there’s suddenly more clamor seemingly right outside your door. As if someone was crashing into the wall. The look in your eyes turns to pleading. Now you’re actually hoping Jungkook’s offer, whatever exactly it entails, still stands.

“I’ll stay. Don’t worry,” he reassures you as if he just read your mind. Probably not that hard, considering the situation.

“Thanks,” you mumble while looking around the room. There’s exactly one bed, a dresser with a tiny TV on it and what you assume to be the door to the bathroom. And a worn-out leather arm chair.

Jungkook follows your gaze and takes the words out of your mouth when he speaks up.

“I’ll just stay in the cuck chair, you can go ahead and go to sleep.”

The good old cuck chair, a must-have of any rented room that’s worth anything. What would people do without it? Although this one actually seems like it’s been in heavy use. Ew. At least you’re not the one having to sit in it.

To your horror, this stuffy room has no air conditioning, only a ceiling fan above the bed that barely does its job. Opening the window is no use at this time of night either, as it’s still hot out.

“I could never get used to this heat,” you huff and sit down at the edge of the mattress, causing the bedframe to squeak. “Don’t think I can even sleep while it’s this hot,” you add, groaning.

Jungkook brings his stuff over to his designated spot for the night to keep watch of the door or whatever his plan actually is. Your knight in shining armor, you scoff to yourself. The fact that you’re sharing a motel room with some stranger is outrageous and very much out of scope of what you had planned for this trip. Even if said stranger is nice to look at. You watch him from the corner of your eyes as you kick off your sneakers and pull your legs up on the bed into a criss-cross position. His white shirt has gone see-through in the back from sweat and it’s sticking to him. No wonder - he’s been wearing a leather jacket and also you clung to his back earlier like a koala while driving here.

It's only around 9 pm when you check your phone and start scrolling through various social media apps, quickly getting bored. Beads of sweat are forming on your forehead, you feel like you’re being boiled alive sitting here in jeans, but you’re not about to strip in front of Jungkook, who’s also taken his spot in the chair with his phone in hand.

“Hey, you want to get some more beer?” you ask him, sure that you’ll be up for quite a while and beer always makes you sleepy, so that might help.

“Sure,” he nods, walking over to you and holding his hand out. “We can get some from the bar.”

You let him help you off the bed and slip back into your shoes. It’s a quick trip, Jungkook never taking his arm off your waist as he walks you through the premises.

Equipped with 4 cold bottles of beer you return to your room where Jungkook immediately opens one for you with a lighter from his back pocket.

The cool liquid goes down smoothly, making you sigh in content as you sit down on the end of the bed so you can actually face him in his spot where he is currently holding the bottle against his neck in an effort to cool off.

Striking up a conversation while you down the first drink, you inquire further about his repair shop.

“It’s been in the family for a few generations,” he lets you know. “I’ve been around cars since I was little, back when it was my grandfather’s still.”

“Did you ever consider doing anything else? College or something?” you wonder.

Jungkook laughs at the idea. “I’m way too dumb for a degree. And I like getting my hands dirty. Manual labor takes my mind off of things. I enjoy it.”

You get it, the road trip was supposed to serve the same purpose - taking your mind off what’s been troubling you. Could’ve figured that driving by yourself for hours makes your thoughts race instead. Maybe you’re dumb too.

Jungkook asks about you being in between jobs then, since you mentioned it to him earlier.

“I quit so I could leave my place for a while. Wasn’t that great of a job anyway, so no loss there.”

You put the now empty bottle on the ground and flop back on the mattress with your eyes closed, letting the ceiling fan blow hot air around you for a bit.

“You alright?” Jungkook’s voice chimes up.

“Yeah,” you hum out from your horizontal position. Mostly thanks to him, you ponder and find yourself glad your car started going to shit in his vicinity and not some place else. You just chill for a moment, trying to drown out the ruckus outside of your room. You’re in here, safe, protected. Jungkook is pretty beefy, so you’re not too worried about any truckers trying to bust their way into here. The ones that crossed your way so far looked out of shape. Not that you’re judging, you probably wouldn’t opt for a gym session after driving for hours on end either.

“Thank you again,” you sit back up, feeling like you're admitting defeat. “For staying with me. I’m sorry for all the troubles.”

Jungkook only replies with a smile and hands you the second bottle of beer. “I didn’t have any plans for tonight anyway. Your company beats watching TV alone by miles.”

He’d probably have air conditioning though and wouldn’t have to swelter in this dump. His face is shiny from the sheen of sweat, making his dark hair stick to his forehead, which he brushes away with his fingers continuously. Actually, maybe you got lucky having him stuck here with you, cause the fabric sticking to his chest is … really something. You reluctantly peel your eyes away from his muscles, not trying to be a creep after all he’s done for you. Can’t be ogling him like one of those sleazy truckers did to you earlier. Maybe it’s the beer finding its way to your brain or you’re just really not better than a man.

Your body doesn’t feel much drier than him, though you are sure the sweat doesn’t look even half as attractive on you.

While sipping on your third beer, you talk about more benign things, discovering that Jungkook and you share a lot of favorite bands and musicians. During your conversation, he keeps putting the glass bottle up to his face like he did earlier, obviously uncomfortable from being hot.

The ceiling fan only swirls the hot air around, but on the bed and directly under it, it provides at least some relief from the unrelenting heat while he’s suffering in the cuck chair.

“You know you could just come sit on the bed, right?” you interrupt him waving his hand in front of his face like a makeshift fan.

He pauses, considering your offer, and then sighs. “Nah, I’m stinky from working, don’t want to make it all gross.”

“Please, I don’t want to find you melted into a puddle in that fucking chair tomorrow morning,” you joke. “Sounds like one hell of a clean-up. Also, who’s gonna fix my car if you perish from overheating?”

“I might not be the first dead body in that chair, now that I look at it,” he wrinkles his nose as he gets up and eyes the worn-out leather.

“But I’ll take a shower first, if that’s alright with you,” he finally gives in.

“Sure,” you nod. “Go ahead. Haven’t checked out the bathroom - hope you won’t come out dirtier than before.”

Jungkook chuckles as he makes his way into the little side-room.

While you hear the shower run, you empty your beer and shoot your friend a message that your arrival will be delayed because of your shitty car.

Shortly after the water turns off, Jungkook sheepishly peeks around the corner.

“My shirt is soaked,” he tells you with an apologetic smile. “I’ll air it out and put it back on, yeah?”

His coyness makes you burst into laughter. How cute.

“Jungkook, your shirt has been see-through for the last 2 hours, I’ve seen it all. Now don’t be stupid and come sit with me.”

He huffs out a quiet laugh and throws his moist t-shirt on the sideboard, hoping it will dry down, before putting his shoes and socks next to yours by the door.

“Which side are you gonna sleep on?” he asks you, making you raise an eyebrow.

“I’m not going to put my greasy ass down where you have to sleep,” he explains and gestures at the smears on his pants. “This bed is probably already gross enough.”

You take a tentative whiff of the pillowcase on your side. “It’s actually not so bad,” you shrug your shoulders before patting the mattress on the unoccupied half of the bed, urging him to finally come and sit.

So, in this incredible turn of events, you’re now sitting shoulder to shoulder with a shirtless small-town mechanic, watching TV in a decrepit motel.

Switching through countless porn channels, you finally happen upon re-runs of The X-Files, which makes both of you perk up in excitement.

“I love Gillian Anderson,” you gush as her glorious red hair appears on screen.

“I love David Duchovny,” Jungkook replies with a sigh. “Gillian’s not bad either.”

His remark doesn’t surprise you as you recall the very bisexual collection of raunchy calendars displayed in his shop.

You both settle against the headboard, getting comfortable, and dive into the episode, following along as Scully and Mulder track down a mutant man that’s hiding in vents to eat people’s livers. Mulder has just foiled the abomination’s attempt to murder some family when Jungkook’s head suddenly drops onto your shoulder.

You can tell he’s asleep by the way his body is slumped against yours. So much for watching the door, huh?

His soft, slow breathing is fanning over your neck and you decide to just let him nap, watching the intro to the next episode roll. That is, until your back starts to hurt from your current position, so you shift slightly, which startles Jungkook awake.

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry,” he looks at you horrified when the initial post-nap confusion has worn off. “Did I drool on you?”

You assure him it’s fine and that he did not. Jungkook stands up and stretches his arms over his head, your eyes following the movement of his bared muscles as he does. He yawns and shuffles over to the window, cracking it open and sticking his head outside.

The clamor has calmed down it seems, no more yelling and fighting audible, you realize in relief.

“I think we can keep this open now,” Jungkook decides. “It has cooled down like… at least 1 degree.”

You agree, even if it won’t help with the warmth, some fresh air won’t hurt.

“You should try and get some sleep,” he proposes. “I’m guessing you still have some miles to drive tomorrow.”

He’s probably right and you can feel the beer you had swimming around in your head, relaxing your body.

Jungkook goes to switch off the big light and settles back into the cuck chair. Apparently he’s not planning on resuming his little nap but is back on duty.

You pull off your socks, leaving you in jeans and a shirt still, which is not your preferred way of going to bed. Since you’re still hot, you just lie down on top of the duvet, turning to your side and pulling up your legs.

“Good girl,” Jungkook coos at you from across the room and you can feel his smirk without even looking at him.

The minutes pass by and you just toss and turn, not able to wind down at all.

“Can’t sleep, huh?” Jungkook asks when you reach for the phone on your nightstand after the futile 30-minute attempt to drift off has gone nowhere. You’re uncomfortable in your clothes, sweating, and your mind keeps straying to exactly the places you’ve tried to outrun with your road trip.

Before you swing your legs off the bed you reach to turn on the lamp on the bedside table as you don’t dig sitting around in complete darkness. You’re in the process of stretching your neck and shoulders while Jungkook rummages through his backpack. It seems like he found what he was looking for because he perks up.

“Wanna smoke?” he asks you, holding up a pre-rolled joint with a bright smile on his face.

You laugh and go through your own bag, producing a ready-to-go spliff as well.

“I’m taking this as a Yes,” Jungkook chuckles and moves to the opened window where you join him. You squeeze past him so you can hop up on the windowsill, sitting with your legs dangling in the air and your side leaning against the window frame.

Jungkook rests his upper body against the other side before he fishes the lighter out of his pocket and ignites the joint between his lips.

Passing the doobie between each other, you pick up the topic of his shop again, still curious.

“You plan on staying in your town forever?” you ask him. “Like, just keep the garage going until you’re too old to work anymore?”

He takes a drag and huffs out some smoke while he thinks about it.

“I like the mechanic work,” he starts. “But I’m not really keen on living the rural town life for the rest of eternity.”

“I knew you weren’t the type.”

“Yeah. But I just can’t let go of the shop. I thought about selling it before, but I can’t bring myself to do it. It would probably kill my dad if I did.”

“He’d want you to be happy, no?”

He hums pensively, takes another hit and hands you the joint. Jungkook lets his fingers linger on yours for a moment when he does. His side is pressing into your thigh since there’s not much space in the window. The way his eyes are locked on yours is making your breath hitch and you almost choke on the smoke you inhaled. You cough, which makes him reach behind you to stroke your back. Your free hand grabs his naked shoulder while you recover from the coughing fit.

Once you catch your breath and sit back up straight, Jungkook doesn’t return to his spot next to you, but instead remains in front of you, basically between your legs.

His hand slides away from your back though, holding on to the windowsill next to your leg instead.

“I didn’t really quit my job for the trip,” you sigh, looking down at your dangling feet. The weed really seems to loosen up your tongue tonight. “Just couldn’t do it anymore, it kept burning me out to a pathetic pile of ash.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook earnestly tells you, squeezing your arm lightly in a comforting manner.

Apparently your weed-riddled brain decides to just lay out all your business to him, because before you can stop yourself, you are already dropping the rest of your recent lore.

“’M driving through the whole country to my friend’s place because I found out I got cheated on. The breakup hit me quite hard after such a long time together. Needed to get far, far away.”

“Must be a fucking idiot,” Jungkook shakes his head and tries to catch your gaze, which makes you lift your head when he starts to crouch to look up at you.

He moves closer to you then, making your knees spread further to accommodate his frame.  After flicking the butt of the joint out of the window, he places his palm on your thigh while his other hand comes up and brushes some of your hair behind your ear. His head is cocked to the side and you’re locking eyes, with his fingers still resting softly against your cheek.

It’s like time freezes and then you’re suddenly leaning forward and your lips collide, slotting together effortlessly, like they were never meant to be apart to begin with. You sigh against him as if you’re letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding and he uses the moment to slip his tongue between your parted lips. His hand has wandered to your neck while yours found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer, as your tongues dance against each other. All the stress of today just falls off you, like a lizard shedding his skin. The kiss is all-encompassing, leaving no room for any thoughts in your head other than taking away every inch of space between your bodies. As you make out, the palm on your thigh slowly caresses from your leg to your side and then back down to your ass, where it rests and squeezes ever so lightly. Even this soft touch makes your hips hitch towards Jungkook and you feel him smile against your mouth and exhale a laugh through his nose. You would be embarrassed if he wasn’t pressing himself into your crotch, holding you in place, obviously just as excited to feel you against his body. He nibbles on your lower lip before licking across it and then his face is suddenly gone from yours. You just stare at him all dumb and breathless, still entangled with him. His thumb brushes over your lip, wiping away the moisture left behind from the kiss and continues to put it in his mouth. You stifle a whine at the sight, trying to collect yourself at least a little bit, so you slide off the windowsill. Not taking into account Jungkook’s close proximity to you, the movement makes you rub yourself against his groin by accident. He’s not shy about the groan that leaves him at the contact, but he steps back a bit to give you space anyway.

“Want to give sleep another shot?” he asks you, brushing over your cheek one last time before removing his hand.

“Mhm,” you nod. “I’m gonna take a shower first though.”

“Good idea,” Jungkook sends you off with a pat to your ass, making your face heat up even more.

Oh, you really need a cold shower for more than one reason.

You finally step out of your sweaty clothes, dropping them in a pile on the bathroom floor. When the spray of water hits you, you sigh. It feels so good to finally wash away the grime. What you can’t rinse off is the tight feeling between your legs as you think about Jungkook, shirtless and sweaty, pressed to your body. You take a few minutes to just stand under the water raining down on you, fighting the urge to touch yourself, that’s how riled up the kiss has gotten you.

When you turn off the water and get out of the shower, you realize that there is only a small towel, nothing that could actually cover your body in any decent way. You only brought panties to the bathroom with you. The only thing you find attached to the door is a questionable bathrobe. Better than nothing, you think after inspecting and smelling it, deciding it’s clean. You quickly towel-dry your wet hair with the small cloth so you don’t look like a dog that got caught in the rain before slipping on your panties and the robe, closing it around you with its belt.

Jungkook has returned to the cuck chair when you come back out. He’s reclined back into it, leisurely stretching his spread legs out as he eyes you with heavy lids. He’s so fucking sexy lounging there in just his jeans, his upper body glazed by sweat, making his tattoo glisten in the dim light of the bedside lamp. You nibble on your lower lip absentmindedly, slowly stepping closer.

And he’s looking right back at you like he wants to ravish you. The slight tent in the front of his pants is reassuring proof that the kissing didn’t leave him unaffected either.

“Are you not hot in this?” he gestures at your robe while looking you up and down before sitting up straight.

“Are you not hot in your jeans?” you tease in response, making him chuckle.

“C’mere,” he curls his fingers at you to beckon you closer and your feet move before your brain even catches up.

Once you’re in reach, he grabs the belt of the bathrobe and pulls you into him, hands snaking to your backside when there’s no more room between you. He massages your ass cheeks through the soft fabric at an agonizingly slow pace and you’re already becoming impatient, so you take initiative and climb into his lap, your knees around his thighs. There’s just enough room in the chair for you to fit. With your arms locked around his neck, you immediately go in for another kiss, licking into him. Spurred on by your eagerness, his hands slip under your robe, making the belt slowly unravel with each movement of his palms against your naked skin underneath. You didn’t think it was possible in this heat, but you erupt in goosebumps when his fingers slide over your waist, up to the side of your breasts where he lets them linger before splaying them out to cup your tits.

“Your skin is so soft,” he mutters against your lips just as one of his digits brushes over a pert nipple, which makes you inhale a sharp breath. His mouth moves to the side of your neck, where he sucks on your skin, surely leaving behind bruises. The sensation makes you grind your hips down against his growing cock, craving friction. He groans into the crook of your neck, so you keep swiveling your lower body in his lap, both of your breathing increasing in speed as your arousal is escalating to new levels.

Finally, he’s had enough of the bathrobe covering his view of your body and when you let go of him, he slides it off your shoulders, dropping it to pool on the floor by his feet.

With your bare tits in front of his face, he hums in approval, his hands roaming the skin of your nude torso.

“Wow,” he sighs in appreciation, licking over his lips once before latching on to a nipple. The flicking of his tongue elicits a whimper from you and makes your back arch, pressing your chest closer to him.

You can feel the rough denim covering his dick though the thin fabric of your underwear, which is already going damp as you rub yourself over him again and again.

You lift yourself off his crotch, your hand finding his belt, undoing the buckle. When you struggle to open the fly of his pants one-handed, he removes his hand from your tit and looks up at you.

“You sure?” he asks you softly and when you nod, he helps you out by popping the button himself, so you just have to pull down the zipper. He lifts himself off the seat just enough to wriggle the jeans down to his thighs. His hard dick twitches excitedly when you palm him through his Calvin Klein boxers.

Jungkook reaches between you, his fingers finding your still clothed pussy, just ghosting over your core, tentatively. You instinctively press down into his touch, sighing, which impels him to run his digits over the moistened fabric harder. Feeling your arousal through the panties already, he pulls them to the side, giving him access to run his finger between your labia. “Like silk,” he muses quietly, before dipping in further, gathering your wetness.

“Dripping for me already,” he groans, his breath fanning over your neck now. “So fucking hot.”

His middle finger finds your entrance then and pushes in slowly before curling it once inside. You writhe in his hold, impatient to be filled by him.  After pumping a few times, he slides in a second finger, the pads dragging across your walls which each movement of his wrist, making you whine.

When the thirst for his cock takes over you, you reach down to the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down just far enough to free his hard dick. He moans lowly when you wrap your fingers around him, squeezing before giving him a determined tug, your thumb spreading precum across his tip.

His fingers slip out of you then, leaving you clenching around air. His hand comes up on top of yours on him, engulfing your smaller one completely, guiding your pumps. Your juices on his fingers add to the glide, every stroke along his length now producing a nasty squelching sound.

With his free hand, he fishes out his wallet from his jeans, producing a single condom. You basically rip it out of his fingers, tearing the package open with your teeth. After slapping his own hand away from his dick with the back of yours, you roll on the rubber.

He takes hold of your wrist and gently twists you palm up under his face, then lets a drop of spit fall into it. You spread the drool around his shaft before lining yourself up to the tip of his cock.

Jungkook grips on to your waist as you lower yourself down on him until you’re flush to his crotch. The stretch makes you whimper as he slides into you, his own head falling back on to the chair with his eyes closed.

“Shit,” he mutters, voice strained. “You feel amazing.”

That’s enough encouragement for you to start moving, your hips going in circles as you bounce up and down. His cock curves just the right way to rub over your g-spot each time you slam your ass down into him.

His fingers have wandered to your ass cheeks, kneading at the supple flesh. He’s not guiding your movement, he lets you take the reigns as you ride him like your life depends on it.

The damn cuck chair is restricting you though, your knees confined by the armrests, you can’t get into it the way you know would blow his fucking mind. When you lift yourself off his cock, his head shoots back up, looking at you quizzically as you move off his lap and lower yourself on the floor between his legs. He spreads them immediately, accommodating you kneeling before him.

You peel off the condom, throwing it aside, before bracing yourself on his thigh with one hand. His palm comes down to land on top of your fingers running over the muscle of his upper leg. He caresses your hand as you close in on his cock, poking out your tongue to give it tiny kitten licks all over. His gaze never leaves you when your lips finally close around his leaking tip and he immediately twitches in your mouth with a whimper. Your lips are wet from precum and you let them run over his tip and down his shaft before taking him in properly. While you work your way down his length, your tongue flat against it, small whine-like sounds keep escaping him, contrasting the low groans he huffed out before and it’s making your head swim with need.

You hollow out your cheeks, sucking him down as far as you can go, your tongue swirling over his frenulum and through his slit on every upwards move. He’s too big to get all of him into your mouth, so you wrap your fingers around the remaining length, aiding with flicks of your wrist.

The groans from earlier begin to mix in between the higher-pitched whimpering, his fingers gripping on to yours harder as you keep going.

Jungkook is staring at you through the whole blowjob, mouth slightly agape, his chest heaving.

“So damn pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he muses between huffs, his free hand tangling into the back of your hair.

The praise goes straight to your pussy, throbbing and feeling neglected. You’re sure though it’s not going to be for long while you keep bobbing your head. And you were right, because soon after he peels you off himself gently by your hair, his other hand helping you up. He pulls you closer to him, slotting his lips against yours for a lazy kiss with his fingers grazing your jaw.

After breaking the kiss, he gets up, his sweaty back sticking to the leather producing a moist squelch, taking you with him and walking you over to the bed while stepping out of his jeans and boxers on the way. He lays you down on your back with an arm around you.

This time it’s him getting on his knees at the end of the bed. Jungkook grabs you by your waist and pulls you towards him, your legs spread around his head. He removes the panties still bunched up next to your pussy, taking a deep whiff of them before tossing them aside. He dips his head between your thighs immediately, mumbling against your core.

“You smell like heaven,” you can barely make out, his voice muffled by your skin, but it’s enough to make you moan at the dirty compliment. Maybe you have a praise kink that you weren’t aware of before, because he’s driving you insane.

The last thing you see before your head falls on the mattress is his twinkling eyes looking at you with hunger-blown pupils. Then his mouth is on you, his tongue running along your slit, lapping up the gathered arousal. Each pass of his tongue is pulling you further into oblivion and when he finally sucks your clit between his lips, all you can do is gasp and grip the bedsheets. His nose is pressed to your pubic mound as he lavishes at your pussy, relentlessly flicking over your most sensitive spot. He’s really not wasting any time, already having you right on the edge.

He alternates between his tongue and his lips in a mind-numbing rhythm and then two of his fingers push into you as well. Feeling him press his fingertips into your walls and working your clit at the same time has you arching off the bed.

“Don’t stop,” you plead, your orgasm approaching in a rapid pace.

With one last curl of his fingers inside you, you clench around them and come on his face. Your thighs close around his head, caging him in as your hips lift off the mattress accompanied by a strangled whimper. Your body twitches helplessly as he keeps lapping at your clit, bordering on overstimulation as your orgasm slowly ebbs down and you finally have to push his face away from between your thighs.

“Fuck, I could eat you out forever,” he groans, his lips and chin dripping in spit and your wetness as he reluctantly detaches from you. “I can’t get enough of your pussy. So sweet.”

You laugh breathlessly, slumping back on to your elbows. “Yeah, I could tell.”

He comes up from the floor, his palm wrapped around his rock-hard cock, stroking himself. When he looks down on you with hooded eyes, you grab his arm and pull him down. Jungkook chuckles as he lands on top of you, holding himself up with one arm so he doesn’t crush you.

His leg slots between yours and his cock drags along your hip, smearing precum on your skin when he crashes your lips together. After feverishly letting your tongues tangle and bodies rub against each other, giving you time to recover, he pulls away and rolls onto his back. Using the moment, you grab a condom from your backpack next to the bed before you follow along, swinging your leg over his thighs to straddle him. You put the protection on him with gentle hands, only tugging lightly a single time when you’re done. Hovering just above his twitching cock then, you start exploring his torso, fingers running across his abs up to his chest, feeling the taut muscle contract under your hands. You trace the tattoo that goes from his arm, over his shoulder down to his pecks. His nipples are hardened and you can’t resist brushing over them, small, dark and stiff, contrasting his pale skin. His hips hitch up at the teasing touch, making his cock glide between your labia. He whimpers and curses under his breath as he keeps sliding along your pussy, still puffy from the orgasm. The tip of his dick catches on your clit with every hump, your body now moving in sync to his motions, increasing the delicious friction.

On your last slide downwards, you angle your hips and with you still being soaked and spit-slick, his cock enters you without resistance. His hands on your ass tighten their grip as he sucks in a harsh breath. You can’t hold back your own drawn-out moan as your pussy is finally being filled out again. With your fingers splayed on his abdomen for support, you lift up slightly just to slam back down. There’s no slow start, you’re not playing around, immediately gyrating your hips with every bounce, your pussy gripping his cock tightly like it’s trying to rip it off.

The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping on skin, wet squelching every time you move back down on his cock and a symphony of both your moans echoing off the walls.

Jungkook lets you lead again, but after a while, he can’t help but thrust up into you, matching your rhythm and speed. You straighten out your back so you can reach behind you, cradling his balls, massaging them while you rock in his lap, before dipping down further to press into his taint firmly, pulling another whimper from him.

“Damn,” he presses out, his dick pumping into you. “You’re the best fucking ride of my life.”

With his cock dragging along your walls, you let yourself fall forward and his arms close around your lower back, holding you close. You rest your head against his shoulder, your ass still drawing circles on him, your cheeks ricocheting every time your hips meet. At this angle, your clit is now rubbing against him, making you gasp at the much-needed friction while he shoves into you from beneath. It doesn’t take long for you to get close again, so you grind down harder, chasing your high.

When your moans increase in volume, Jungkook digs his hands back into your ass.

“That’s it,” he breathes against your ear. “Come on my cock like a good girl.”

His words unravel you immediately, the coil in your stomach snapping and you come for a second time with a cry, the intensity almost overwhelming. Your pussy clenches around him tightly, making him groan through gritted teeth under you. You sob into his shoulder while you try to keep riding out your orgasm with trembling thighs and your whole body convulsing.

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to calm down this time. With strong arms, he lifts you off him and on your back. He stares down at you with dark eyes as he positions himself between your legs before he grabs the back of your knees and basically folds you in half. Jungkook rams his cock back into you without warning, the bed creaking loudly under the pistoning of his hips. You can do nothing but take his delicious slams into your sensitive pussy, too fucked out to contribute, your breathing coming out in shallow huffs between moans.

With a particularly harsh thrust, you hear a bed slat crash into the floor. Jungkook doesn’t seem to care that he’s not only taking you apart, but also the bedframe, rapidly approaching his orgasm judging by the stuttered grunts that reverberate around you. You feel like you’re getting vertigo from Jungkook all over and inside you, the effects of you coming so hard still lingering, having you blissed out and your brain comfortably empty.

It doesn’t take long for his movements to go choppy.

“Fuck, how are you still so tight… so… perfect,” he struggles to grit out between heavy breaths before his hips still and he releases his load inside you accompanied by stuttered moans. The fingers on the back of your thighs dig into your skin, probably leaving marks, as he continues pumping into you sloppily until your pussy has milked every last drop of cum out of him and he can’t hold himself up any longer. His body gives out, trembling, and he lets go of your legs before collapsing on top of you.

With his face in the crook of your neck, he exhales a shaky, incredulous laugh. Your fingers tangle into the back of his hair, caressing his scalp while he comes down. You are close to drifting off with Jungkook’s weight pressing into you, a calming feeling washing over you, when his voice startles you awake again.

“Are you okay?” he asks you with a hoarse voice, lifting himself off you, taking off the condom and settling against your side instead. His arm finds your middle and he pulls you closer.

“Better than the bed,” you giggle sleepily.

Reluctantly, you move out of his embrace, not willing to risk having to continue your road trip with a bladder infection.

“I’ll be right back,” you let him know.

You traipse to the bathroom to pee and when you come back, Jungkook is on his back, snoring lightly. You quickly pull on a baggy t-shirt and some panties and climb back into bed, careful not to wake him. When you snuggle into his side, his mouth curls into a smile and he hums.

“I’m taking you to breakfast before we go back tomorrow,” he mumbles with a sleep-tinged voice before drifting back off.

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