talktothesun

The inebriated king jumped at the sight of you and the sound of his name. “Gods be good,” he said while steadying himself. He didn’t feel great, and the sight of you in your nightgown did nothing to ease his disorientation. He leaned a hand against the doorframe, rubbing a hand across his warm face, greeting you, “Sister.”

“Is something wrong, my king?” you asked, concerned with the faraway look in his eyes. You kept your distance still, wary of his grace’s well-known habits when deep in his cups. “If you are looking for Aemond, I am afraid he is still caught up in that meeting with your grandsire.”

“I just needed to get out, staying in these walls has given my mind no reprieve,” Aegon said with what you felt was an honest answer. He let out a heavy sigh, the corner of his lips dipping into a small frown.  “I didn’t mean to startle you. I wanted to ask Aemond about his opinion on something important.”

Aegon could scarcely remember the steps he had taken that lead him to your chambers, the small details of what he needed to say held in the slippery grip of his drunken stupor. The sting from his mother's hand on his cheek and the stabbing tone of her voice led him away from his seat in the council table, where he was needed, and into the tunnels that lead to the familiar path of his refuge. With a cup of ale in his hand and the boisterous ruckus of the alehouse, the king had forged himself a plan.

A ship to depart from the Bay by dawn. Essos. A crown for Aemond.

You were aware of Aegon being at the receiving end of his mother’s ire once more, no doubt escaping to his cups after their fight that had echoed through the halls of the Keep. You approached his leaning figure, coming to stand by the settee, patting down the cushions to invite him in. 

“Why don’t you sit? Aemond might be back in a few, and you look like the slightest poke would send your face to the mud, brother,” you offered. Though your brother-in-law was far from being as proper and honorable as your lord husband, you worried for him. Aegon wasn’t perfect, yet it would be hard to deny that he has struggled to find his place in the family. You have seen the gloom that always clouded his purple orbs, one he had tried to hide when he had sat the Iron Throne and the Conqueror’s crown was placed upon his head.

Aegon did as he was told, sinking into the seat with a heavy thud and a groan. Silence encompassed the room for a moment, the crackling of the hearth filling in the gaps between you and the king. He could feel himself sobering up fast, the fact that he was sitting with his brother’s wife, his beautiful wife, while Aemond was away had him flustered, his senses fighting through the cloudy haze of the liquor in his system.

“Your husband,” he managed, “is he really as praiseworthy as mother makes him out to be?” Aegon queried, his tone casual and light. You approached the seat across from him, pulling your robe tighter around your figure as you sat down.

“What do you think? He’s your brother. You have known what he is like much longer than I,” you responded, smiling at him softly. Your head tilted ever so slightly when you studied the elder Targaryen before you, how his plump cheeks were flushed and the skin under his eyes held perpetual lines of exhaustion. Aegon let out a low hum, twisting his lips while he stared into the fire. 

“Aemond has always been a good man. A bit of a brute, but a good man,” Aegon said, nodding, but then paused to consider his words. “I suppose I want to know…is he kind to you?”

“The most kind,” you smiled bashfully. The thoughts of your lord husband always brought about a warmth that painted your cheeks, especially the ones when his icy cold demeanor always melted around you, an occurrence he said was only possible with your power. A dreamy sigh left your lips as you longed to have him by your side at that moment, still eagerly awaiting his return from his duties. You turned to meet Aegon’s gaze, “I know it is hard to believe, but he is so good to me, your brother. I never expected our marriage to turn out this way. So… wonderful.”

A smile, slight at first, appeared on Aegon’s lips at the sight of your blissful face, whispering a small ‘good’, before returning his gaze to the hearth. Another beat of silence passed you before you spoke up once more. 

“And you and Helaena? Is everything alright?” You asked, inquiring about the state of Aegon and his sister-wife, to which Aegon only gave a small shrug.

 “You know Helaena, I never know how she feels about anything,” he said with a rueful smile on his lips. You frowned at his words, feeling bad with how quickly his smile dropped once he finished speaking.

“Helaena, she…” you trailed off, trying to find the right words to approach the subject. “She is so special. She’s not like the rest of us. She is bestowed with gifts that I don’t think any of us truly understand, nor can she fully carry the weight of. She needs someone to carry that weight with her, Aegon. I know you try for her, but it all just requires time. Give her time to open up to you, brother. Don’t force it out of her,” you advised. The king’s eyes sparkled when they stared at you while you spoke, attentive and awake. The corner of his plump lips quirked up at your words, breathing out a huff.

​​“She does seem fragile, doesn’t she?” Aegon said. You watched as he fiddled with his thumbs, a twinge in your heart at the sight of him. It was no secret the king and queen had an unconventional relationship, with them being brother and sister, coupled with their utterly contrasting personalities. Even with children, Aegon and Helaena had never found their rhythm with each other, and the gaps in their marriage were only intensified whenever it was held in contrast to yours and Aemond’s marriage.

“How do you put up with his moods? Aemond, I mean,” Aegon suddenly asked with a small grin, eager to change the subject. “He’s not a pleasant man when he’s in a temper, to put it mildly.”

The surprise on your face was evident as the conversation shifted back to you, a small chuckle leaving your lips at his words. 

“Oh, believe me, I have tried many ways to deal with that fiery temper of his,” you laughed along with Aegon. “I am no dragon, I find no use in fighting fire with fire, though it has taken a bit of creativity to tame that temper of his.” 

A suggestive glint in your eyes twinkled as you spoke, giggling when Aegon let out a boisterous laugh in understanding. He was visibly surprised by his good sister’s candor, one he had not something he had expected out of you.

“And I bet you’ve been successful at it too, haven’t you?” he asked, cackling when you clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter.

“Quite a bit, yes!” you agreed, a proud smile on your lips. Aegon shook his head at you, his shoulders bouncing with the laughter that bubbled from his chest.

The ease that flowed between both of you took Aegon by surprise. If only he could have more moments with you like this, perhaps he’d be a better man, a better king, even. No wonder Aemond had been so taken with you. His brooding brother had taken on a lightness to him since you had entered his life, one Aegon had first thought was quite bizarre to see in the one-eyed prince at first, but now he understood. You held the power to make any man change his ways with a single smile.

“Gods be good. That man is lucky to have you.”

Your mischievous smile turned into one of fondness at the king’s words, your longing for your lord husband growing all the more the longer he was missing from your side. 

“No luckier than I to have him as my husband,” you responded, earning a low hum from the king. Large round eyes, ones he bore from his mother, turned to look at you, glimmering against the warm glow from the fireplace. You fiddled with your fingers with uncertainty when you caught the change in his gaze, the warmth of his amethyst orbs turning to that of hidden longing. You knew this wasn’t because of love for you, it couldn’t be. You assumed the king merely craved the stability and trust that yours and Aemond’s marriage had, but you couldn’t deny the way he looked at you at times, a look almost too similar to that your husband held for you. 

It was best to probably dismiss your brother-in-law for the sake of being proper, but you just didn’t have it in you to leave him on his own for the night, not when the murky sorrow returned to his eyes, replacing the light your presence had stoked. You cleared your throat, the air in the room suddenly turning prickly. 

“I’m sorry that Aemond is taking so long. Why don’t you lay for a bit while you wait, brother? The daybed is quite comfortable,” you offered. Aegon instantly refused, not wanting to impose in your own chambers.

“No, no, I should go. I will be alright, princess,” he reassured, though the way your face held uncertainty made him falter. There was no doubt anyone who would come upon him in the halls would immediately know of his whereabouts, with his messy silver tresses, half-open doublet, and the smell of cheap mead that he exuded. Hells, when did he lose one of his rings?

You managed to convince him to settle by the daybed, promising to wake him upon Aemond’s return. It took little effort for him to fall asleep, the liquor in his system quickly submitting him to the depths of slumber. You fetched some furs to drape over his sleeping figure, soft snores resonating from the daybed. A sigh left your lips at the state of the elder Targaryen, worried about how he had been coping with the weight of the crown upon his shoulders.

 You were on your side of the bed, engrossed in your reading when your husband finally returned from his duties. You looked at Aemond in worry when he eyed his brother’s sleeping figure, his features immediately merging into one of anger and confusion after finding his wife and his brother all alone at night. 

“What the hell is he doing in our chamber?” He asked, his tone harsh. 

“Aemond..” you said softly, putting away your book before rising to approach him. Your arms came up to caress his biceps, soothing him. “He came looking for you, husband. Your brother is troubled, he waited for your return to talk to you about it,” you explained, hoping your husband would see reason and put away his anger, though his furrowed brows let you know that you shouldn’t get too hopeful. 

“I don’t care what he was looking for. King or not, he should know better than to intrude on my wife,” Aemond spat, his anger still not waning while his voice rose. He was about to say more when you squeezed his biceps, a frown on your features. His own immediately softened, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “You shouldn’t be around him when he’s like this.” 

“I know, I know. But I was worried for him. I couldn’t just turn him away, my love,” you explained. Your hands drifted down to take hold of his fisted palms, making him unclench to let you take his hands in yours. “I should have made you aware of his being here. He needed someone to talk to, husband. I told him to lie down while he waited for you, but I fear the wine has gotten the best of him,” you pressed kisses to your husband’s wrists, placing his calloused palms to cup your face. Your eyes met his good one as it studied you, your feet taking a small step closer to his warmth.

“Was there anything he told you?” Aemond asked. You both looked at his sleeping figure. Aegon's snores had stopped, but he still lay peacefully asleep on your daybed. 

“He asked about our wellbeing but that was about it.” You half-lied. You thought it best to keep your conversation with the elder Targaryen between yourselves, something only you understood. 

Aemond’s apprehension of having his brother around his wife was something he did not hide, well aware of his hidden desire and admiration for his lady. The thought of you and Aegon spending time alone in your marital chambers while he was away took all of him not to strangle his sleeping brother if it weren’t for your soft presence. He could laugh at the incredulity of the circumstances, his brother having clearly wasted no time to seize the opportunity in his absence. 

The one-eyed prince stepped away from your grasp, turning away to rid himself of his day clothes. You bit your lip anxiously as he continued to spare glares at his slumbering brother. You approached him once more, standing in front of him. Your hands caressed his chest while he pulled you in by your waist, craving your touch after hours of being away. You planted a small kiss on his cheek for comfort, and another one on his lips. 

“I think it best for you to talk to him, my love. You both understand each other the best, after all,” you said softly. Your husband let out another angry sigh despite your kisses. How sweet you were, nothing but goodness in the fibers of your being. In his heart of hearts, he wished it weren’t so, that this kindness was only reserved for him, your lord husband, that way he would be saved from the many who feel smitten by your charms, his own brother for one. 

“I have no wish to even look at him,” Aemond snapped, looking away from you. He shook his head, knowing what he wanted to say, but being unable to bring himself to do it. “I just don’t like it. He looks at you, covets you.”

“Aemond..” you started, but you sighed as your husband gave you a warning look. “I swear to you, husband. He merely came with the intent to talk to you tonight. He was proper with me,” you promised, cupping his face in trying to reassure him, but his sharp jaw had stayed clenched. Your face dropped, frowning when he still refused to look at you.

“Darling,” you beckoned. You dipped your head to meet his gaze, a silent plea of understanding in your countenance when you stared at each other. You watched Aemond study your face with a cold glint. Seeing your husband still aggravated by your current situation, you knew you had to do something to calm him, lest he did something irrational to the sleeping king in your midst.

Tentatively, you pressed your lips against his in a kiss. You felt him soften ever so slightly, deepening the kiss when his hand caressed your cheek, his thumb tracing over your cheekbone. When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead against your husband’s, his hot breath fanning over your face.

“What was that for?” Aemond asked, his tone still hardened.

“Missed you,” you mumbled against his lips, kissing him once more. It was quick to escalate, with Aemond taking the lead. His tongue prodded its way into your mouth, exploring your warm cavern while a whine emitted deep from your throat at your husband’s ministrations. You felt his hands wander down to your waist to settle on her arse with a firm squeeze. Breathless you pulled away, though your husband’s firm grip bid you to stay pressed against his chest. 

“I do not want this happening again,” he said quietly, a hint of anger still in his voice. His jealousy flared, a heat rising in his head that inhibited him to think clearly. It was irrational, and he hated that it was so, but he did not know how to let it go. “You are my wife,” Aemond practically growled.

You nodded at him obediently, whispering, “I am all yours, Aemond. Always,” before surging forward to kiss him again.

“I love you,” the prince said as the kiss broke. “I am yours, and you are mine.”

You had barely reciprocated the words before Aemond was kissing you again, this time more urgent and passionate as you grew more heated. His lips traveled to your neck, sucking and kissing while his hands gripped your behind. You had almost let your eyes roll back into your skull in pleasure when you barely remembered that Aegon still lay asleep in your chambers. 

“Darling… Your brother….” you trailed off, barely getting the words out while your husband pressed his growing stiffness into your center. “He is still sleeping there, my love.”

“Let him watch if he wants. It’s what he does anyway,” your husband said, his voice coming out with barely any volume to it with his face still pressed into your neck. He had enough for the moment, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on forever.

“Aemond,” you warned, an unsure glint in your eye. You weren’t sure if this was some sort of sick power play your husband was doing to assert his possession over his wife to his brother, but you were still apprehensive about the whole ordeal. And yet, the heat that pooled in your center coupled with the look the silver-haired man held before you was making your rationality jump out the window. 

The longer you made your husband wait, the more you saw his temper rise again. You quickly kissed him once more, letting your lord husband do whatever he wanted for the night.  You pushed the idea of being intimate while Aegon lay asleep and risked being watched when he woke into the back of your mind, focusing on her and Aemond alone. It would be a lie to say the idea of getting caught and watched didn’t excite you at all. The idea of your prince asserting his possession over you in front of another man made you feel heated, wanted, and highly desirable. After all, Aegon was fully asleep anyway. 

Time to get creative.

Aegon was in fact, not asleep. He had woken up the moment Aemond returned, but continued to lay with his eyes closed upon hearing his brother’s anger at his intrusion. He knew if he were to awaken there was a good chance of a big fight breaking out between them, perhaps of Aemond even killing him right then and there. 

And so, he continued to pretend to be asleep while he listened to Aemond’s rage and his wife’s attempts to soothe him. Even with just listening, the elder could tell how easily the lady’s soft demeanor warmed his brother’s cold one. His heart thumped wildly against his chest, forcing his eyes to remain shut.

Amidst hushed whispers, his ears perked up in curiosity when he heard a wet smacking, then another, and then more. Hushed whispers again, and then the sound of kissing continued once more. From where the daybed was situated in their chambers, He only needed to crane his neck slightly to the side and crack his eyes open just a hair to see you and Aemond in a passionate embrace. Despite the darkness brought about by the dying embers of the hearth, he could still see how his brother’s hand wandered, squeezing and caressing his wife. He saw how you kissed him with such passion, one he was unsure any lady had ever done with him. Jealousy burned within him, while heat pooled in his chest at the sight of the two lovers. He was a fool to continue to listen, to witness what was before him, but Aegon couldn’t find the strength to look away. What the king wouldn’t give for her to be doing that to him, to hold her in his arms. He was sickened with desire.

The younger prince led you to bed, where he bunched up your nightgown to your hips before descending his lips upon your core. Aemond had an inkling that his brother would awaken, a sick desire to show the king what was his overwhelmed him. Lost in the depths of the mindnumbing pleasure that devoured your wit, you were none the wiser with your husband’s little game. He was wary enough to cover your bareness with his body, though the sweet sounds emanating from your lips were hard to stifle. Still, your husband had no complaints. 

Your husband was like a man starved, devouring your sweet ambrosia like it was the water that gave him life. You bit back the mewls that threatened to escape your mouth, though your efforts were futile as they only grew in volume with your impending release.

“Aemond, the curtain,” you mumbled before a moan cut off your words. You reached out to the curtain hanging from your bedpost, urging your husband to cover you for the sake of decency. If he even heard your word, he paid them no mind while he continued to fuck you with his tongue. His nose nuzzled against your pearl, the sparks of pleasure shooting from your nub sending you into a dizzying haze. Your release washed over you like the tide, and you had barely been granted a moment of reprieve to see if Aegon had been disturbed before your husband had freed his cock, sparing no second and breaching your walls. 

You threw your head back into the feather mattress, a breathless whine escaping your lips as he rutted into you at an unforgiving pace. Your hands clung onto your husband’s shoulders while you willed yourself to stay mindful of the noise, yet you couldn’t help the soft whines of your husband’s name that left your lips, much to the one-eyed prince’s delight. 

Aegon’s cock strained painfully in his breeches at the sweet sounds you were making for his brother. His hand twitched to rub at his bulge, and he subtly covered his lap with a cushion to pleasure himself. From his view, he was only granted the sight of his brother’s back while your legs wrapped around his trim waist, but the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin made Aegon’s skin tingle and his cock jump against his palm. He rubbed himself in tandem with the rhythm of the bedframe’s creaking, praying that the darkness of the room made it so that neither of you would catch him in the act. 

Aemond surged forward to meet your lips in a kiss that was a mess of teeth, tongue, and spit. His pace remained relentless, determined to make you fall apart on his cock while his brother helplessly watched. One quick look behind him and he had seen Aegon, crowned king of the Seven Kingdoms, pathetically jerking himself off to the sight of him fucking his wife. Aemond may have once coveted the crown placed upon his brother’s head and the glory that came along with it, but for once he had something his brother wanted. Nothing else would ever come above the warmth of your embrace and the sweet nectar from between your thighs. As a second son he would be bestowed no lands, no legacy, and no other glory, but what more would a man need than a wife who sang the loveliest melody while he split her open with his cock?

Your nails dug into the hard planes of Aemond’s back as he drove you further into your second peak. It was all overwhelming, the caution of keeping quiet, the mind-numbing pleasure of your prince’s cock driving into your cunt, and his grunts of pleasure in your ear, coupled with the electrifying sparks of his thumb playing with your pearl. 

“Do you like this, dear wife? Making me fuck you while your king lay asleep in our chambers? Is this what you wanted, hm? Is this what you wanted me to do?” Aemond growled in your ear, punctuating each query with a harsh thrust. You could only whine and whimper in response, while the warmth in your belly only grew higher, and higher, until it spread all over like cold water, making you spill around Aemond’s cock while you moaned in ecstasy. 

Behind you, Aegon bit his lip harshly as he spilled into his breeches, the sounds of your release driving him towards his. He pressed his face into the cushion to hide his panting, his skin growing heated with the humid air of sex that filled the room. 

Aemond soon spurted his own seed into your core, the pulsing of your walls milking him dry while his thrusts slowed. He collapsed on top of you for a moment, breathing in the scent of your damp skin while he caught his breath. 

“I love you,” he said against your skin, this time without the anger behind his words.

You caressed your husband’s hair while he continued to lay on top of you, equally feeling as boneless with his weight engulfing you comfortingly like a blanket. 

“I love you,” you whispered in response. “There is nothing else I desire for in this world other than you, my love.”

Aegon felt an odd twinge in his chest at your words. For a moment, just a few seconds, he fantasized you had uttered those words to him, and you were his.

After regaining your senses, you lifted your head slightly to take a peek at Aegon. From the view where you lay, it looked to you that the king remained peacefully asleep despite you and your husband’s activities. Though the darkness in the room betrayed you, making it hard for you to actually see the tear that had streaked down his cheek.

“I guess that didn’t wake him up,” you mused. The prince merely hummed in response, his face still buried in the crook of your neck.

“No, he can sleep through anything. Must be nice,” Aemond said quietly. He bit back the smirk at your blissful unawareness, moving to lay on his back before pulling you to his chest.

“Will you promise me that you will talk to him? On the morrow?” you asked, looking up at him with hope. Your husband nodded, sealing his promise with a kiss on your forehead. He pulled the covers over the both of you, rubbing your back while you drifted off into slumber. Your husband held you tight through the night, pleasantly satisfied. 

You remained asleep when Aemond had gotten up just as the sun broke through the horizon, pulling away from you to prepare for his morning training. After getting dressed in his training clothes, Aemond approached his brother’s sleeping figure on the daybed, nudging him awake. He threw a spare training jacket to Aegon, which covered his confused face, dazed with exhaustion. 

“Get up,” Aemond said coldly, eyeing his brother with indifference. “You’re going to train with me.” 

The kind did not appreciate his brother's prodding. He would have preferred to sleep for another hour if Aemond would allow it, but he also knew his brother rarely allowed things that he, himself did not have a preference for, and so Aegon rose from the daybed with great annoyance, and a deep sense of contempt. He let out a groan when he stretched his aching limbs, the exhaustion from the previous night still coursing through his muscles. Aegon had been talking a little too loud for Aemond’s liking, who turned to his brother to quiet him. 

“Shut it. Do not disturb my wife,” he hissed, eyeing your sleeping figure when you slightly stirred. Aegon rolled his eyes at his brother’s order, though obediently changing his dirty doublet for his brother’s gambeson. 

“You’re one to talk about disturbing others in their sleep,” the king grumbled under his breath. Aemond merely let out a breathy chuckle at his brother’s words. 

This idiot. Subtlety was never his strong suit.

While Aegon finished up the last buckle of his garment, Aemond kneeled one knee on the bed to lean over your sleeping figure, planting a small kiss on your forehead. You let out a small dreamy hum in response, still deep into the throes of your slumber. Aemond pulled up the furs to cover you better, before turning to Aegon and leading him outside.

The morning air was crisp when the brothers descended the steps to the training yard. Few littered about, mostly servants running around in preparation for the day. The surprise in their gaze was undeniable at witnessing their king awake so early, the sight of him in the training yard with his brother clearly not a usual occurrence. 

The brothers sparred together, or rather, Aegon was pathetically dodging his brother’s attacks while Aemond swung at him with a skilled ease. It was clear there was a tension between the two, one they were both well aware of the reason why. With only a few hits in, Aegon had already begun to pant, the years of his negligence in his sword training catching up to him quickly.

“I hope the satisfaction you get from this helps to quench the fire in your cock, brother,” the king taunted, heaving.

“There’s only one person who can quench the fire in my cock, and it certainly isn’t you,” Aemond retorted, indifference coating his tone but a smirk decorated his lips.  “My wife tells me you had something to say to me. What was so important you chose to intrude on my wife in the middle of the night?”

Aegon held up a hand in defeat, dropping his sword carelessly into the dirt before bending over to lean his hands on his knees. He took deep breaths while he willed himself not to vomit, the wine in his stomach not settling well with the strenuous ordeal he found himself in so early in the morning.

Essos. His crown for freedom. All of those now seemed like a faraway dream, with the way his brother looked down on him with an unhidden contempt, the effort would be completely futile.

“I thought we could talk, as brothers. Yet standing here in front of you know, I see that is far likely to happen, Aemond,” Aegon said, resignation in his tone. His brother scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief.

​​“Talk,” Aemond said, his voice filled with sarcasm. He let out a small chuckle, grabbing a rag to wipe his sword. “We can talk,” he expressed, his tone carrying a feigned lightness that perturbed Aegon. “Just not about your little obsession with my wife, brother.”

“My obsession?” Aegon responded, incredulous. He looked at Aemond in utter disbelief, who continued to clean his sword calmly. “If anyone is obsessing about someone here, Aemond, it is not me. You are too quick to anger, too riddled with jealousy of me that you cannot stand for me to be in a room with her. I would almost think you were afraid of being bested by me,” the elder said, his lips curling into a sneer. His brother halted in the middle of his wiping, the hand holding the hilt of his sword gripping the handle tight. Aegon gulped at the sight, wary of the younger’s growing temper. Aemond turned to the king, narrowing his good eye at him.

“I do not fear you, Aegon. Do not pretend,” he said, an eerie calmness in his tone. Aegon took a careful step back as his brother stepped forward, crossing his arms behind his back. “I wouldn’t give a shit about you being around her if I didn’t know your damned thoughts about her. She is mine.”

Aegon’s clenched jaw mirrored Aemond’s. His brother’s words left him with no reasonable defense. His affection for his brother’s wife was now out in the open, and he feared the repercussions. 

“How do you know what I think of her? What makes you think I even want her?” Aegon responded, anger in his voice. 

“It is because I know you, Aegon. You are predictable, you grow wide-eyed at the first thing that you believe would grant you the smallest ounce of affection. It is pitiful, really, especially for a king,” Aemond sneered. Any snark rebuttal Aegon had died on his lips as he shrunk in the weight of his brother’s gaze. The younger prince’s stare was piercing, jabbing through Aegon’s skin, prodding at his bare bones. “If I see you making eyes at her again, I swear to it, there won’t be enough blood left in your body to even cry to the gods that they might spare you.”

Aegon could only stare at his brother, his response sending a chill down his spine. He had never feared the younger prince before, in all his physical prowess and ruthlessness, but as they stood in the quiet yard, he had begun to falter.

“All this for a woman, brother?” Aegon asked, voice low as he could only stare at his younger brother. Aemond huffed, standing tall over his king. 

“Yes,” Aemond said. “Over this woman.”

But I am your blood, Aegon wanted to say, but he could only stare.

“Don’t take it personally, brother. If any other man were standing in front of me, I would have said the same thing,” Aemond said, tilting his head mockingly. The one-eyed prince ignored the nagging in his consciousness, one that resembled his mother’s stern voice.

‘We must protect our own,’ she would always say, though as her sons now stood face to face, they couldn’t be more of a threat to each other. Perhaps he had gone too far, but he couldn’t let the fucker have more than he deserved. He already had the crown, the Conqueror’s name. He loved his brother, the gods know he did, but he would breathe fire onto the seven kingdoms if it meant it kept you by his side. 

Aegon could only sigh in defeat, kicking a small pebble by his feet as he sniffled.

“She is all yours, Aemond, do not fret. You have made that very clear. I shall take my leave, this conversation has certainly been the most… fruitful,” Aegon said, smiling sarcastically. The elder turned before Aemond could respond, walking back into the Keep.

Watching Aegon walk away, Aemond pondered on the weight of his words, what this would mean for you and for Aegon, realizing too late what he had failed to do. 

Swiftly, you found that your favourite thing about married life was lazing in bed. Not for the passions that were shared or the secrets that whispered like crisp sheets, but for the leisure of not having to rise.

Aemond was the king, he was charged to serve from dawn to dusk.

While you were the queen, you had little to do bar attend a council meeting once a week, and see that your marital duties were happening regularly. That was of course, no issue.

The issue was your uncle leaving you at the first cock's crow to tilt with Criston.

"Stay." You begged, eyes still fluttering with sleep as you sat up, watching him brush his hair.

"I cannot."

"You do not want me."

He sighed, and sat himself at the edge of the bed. "That is not it, you well know."

You folded your arms over your chest petulantly. "Well, it is how you make me feel."

Your husband rolled his eye. "My love-"

The covers dropped from your chest, leaving your breasts exposed to the gathering morning light. "Please?"

The sight was a captivating one that could arouse even those with the strongest resolve, long silver hair waved and messy, violet eyes begging, sweet lips jutting out in a pout, nipples perky with the morrow's fresh air.

His grace shut his eye and stood up, regretting indulging you by dressing at the bedside.

"You never did play fair. Not in childhood, and most certainly not now."

He strode across the chamber, grabbing his eye patch and placing it on quickly. His large hand then reached for his belt and scabbard, buckling them around his waist.

The queen remained sat up, exposed, undesired. You rolled your eyes and collapsed back into the bed, pulling the covers over yourself.

That show along with a few choice words had worked to pull him into the comfort of your sheets many a time in the past two moons of your marriage, but now your uncle had gotten stricter. Said his training would turn "lacklustre" should he continue to forgo it.

It was a petty excuse that annoyed you to no end.

"Aemond." You groaned, without much point to it.

The sound of his boots clicking against the stone floor got louder, and he stopped at the edge of the large oak bed, reaching out a hand to scratch at your scalp.

"I will see you when we break fast."

You grumbled and turned away from him.

"Really? Come, your king demands a kiss."

The covers rustled when you bunched your legs up beneath them. "Will he take my head if I refuse?"

Aemond scoffed and braced his hands on the edge of the bed, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

The corners of his lips were upturned in victory. He strode through the ghostly halls to the yard, and began his bouts with Ser Criston.

By the time he had finished, the hot summer sun was high in the sky, and his forehead was damp with sweat.

He had barely begun his walk up the keep's step when the Grand Maester's assistant blocked his path.

"Her grace has fainted."

The king's gaze darkened. "Where is she?"

"Your chambers, my king. Her maids found her laid on the ground, dazed."

Aemond all but sprinted to the holdfast. He stormed through the open door of the king's rooms, eye locking on your figure laid in bed, smiling like sunshine as if you had not scared your husband to the edge of death.

"What has happened?" He asked as he came to the bedside, hand reaching out to cup your face. His question was mildly for Orwyle but mainly aimed towards you and your odd grin.

You took his hand and placed it on your belly, looking up at him with joy all over your face.

It took him an embarrassing amount of time to catch your meaning.

His eyebrows raised and his mouth opened just slightly, before he shared your wide grin. "Truly?"

There was a quick nod like your head was a spring, and immediately, he embraced you, completely uncaring to the fact that Orwyle was right next to him.

You were going to have a babe… he was going to be a father.

"You have made me the happiest man in the realm." He murmured into your hair, pressing kisses against your crown.

A soft giggle left your mouth, arms raising to wrap his shoulders.

The king was smiling brightly — a rather unsettling sight — when he pulled back, smoothing down your silken silver hair.

"You are alright after fainting?" He asked softly, turning his head to the Grand Maester for confirmation, expression growing serious

Orwyle nodded his head pensively. "The queen is uninjured. Fainting is common in the beginnings of pregnancy."

Aemond hummed and looked back at you his smile finding footing once again. His lips pecked yours.

That evening you laid in bed. Naked, after being worshipped so attentively that moving sent thrums of pleasure through your very body.

Your husband was laid on his side, eye level with your belly, gently tracing around your navel, pressing kisses in its vicinity.

His hair was tangled in your hand as you scratched at his scalp.

"I cannot wait for you to be round…" He murmured with a tone you would call wistful, pressing his forehead against your stomach.

"You wish me fat?"

"I wish the babe to have a spacious place to grow." He quipped back, and you chuckled.

That made him grin again, pressing his ear to your middle as if listening for a heartbeat, the arm tight around you rubbed slow circles on your back.

After you had lost consciousness, Orwyle felt your stomach a bit longer than you assumed necessary, tapped it with a sheepskin instrument, and decided that your womb was strong.

While that was happening, the other maesters began pouring over moon charts, and decided that you had gotten with child within two weeks of marriage, leaving you two moons along.

They said that you should be due at the dawn of spring.

Aemond pressed a long, wet kiss to your navel.

"Shall we have a prince?" He nuzzled his nose against your belly, eye shut. "Or a little princess?"

The sound of rustling covers followed by a soft yawn, and then you finally spoke. "I know not. You wish for a son, I assume?"

"No." He murmured quietly, climbing back up to be eye to eye with you, cupping your cheek. "I wish for a daughter."

An incredulous huff left you, lazily tilting your head into his hand. "You have want for a daughter?"

"Why would I ever choose a son with my face over a daughter with yours?"

You rolled your violet eyes to the heavens, making a show of it as you leaned your forehead against his.

A hand raised to his face, fingers stroking his scar. "I would not mind a son with your handsome face."

He huffed softly, smiling with a tired and vulnerable aura only ever yours to witness. "Well, I would prefer one with yours, if my queen would indulge me this once."

Soon after — a month to be exact — your nausea set in.

Many things caused it; the scent of the city, of eggs, of wine, and of your husband.

Early one night, while the sun still bled along the horizon, he had returned to your chambers and held you from behind. It was a few seconds between smelling the rosemary in his hair and having bile rise in your throat. The king swiftly stopped oiling his tresses.

As of recent, the queen was most commonly found on the hard stone floor, with a book in her lap and a chamberpot at her side.

The sight saddened your husband greatly.

"What do you think, my darling?" He asked with raised eyebrows, thumb gently stroking over the large rubies along your collarbone.

"They are nice." You replied hoarsely, leaning your head against his shoulder.

It was unlike you to not perk up at the sight of jewels. He had been showering you with them nearly daily, and you seemed careless to it. The nausea was dimming your light.

"Nice?" He repeated dully as he gently rubbed your stomach.

You nodded. He sighed.

"Then I shall continue my quest to find better than just 'nice'. And to search high and low for a cure to this sickness you so suffer from."

Thankfully, your vomiting subsided rather quickly after that morning.

And as the illness left, the evidence grew.

The babe was four months by the time your belly began to show.

It was only a slight bump, but a bump all the same. The king was utterly delighted by it.

"Look at you." Hot lips kissed behind your ear, the sound of clicking heels deserting your rooms in the background because your maids ran at the sight of your husband.

"The image of the mother." He smirked as he cupped your belly over the thin chemise, pressing kisses to your shoulder with great pride.

His compliments seemed to have grown even more creative as the proof of his seed inside of you got larger and larger.

The unending protection around you doubled as your belly endeavoured to do the same.

Your uncle had become more obsessed and possessive of you since the bump had appeared. The proof of your coupling and his ownership was there for all to see, and he would be damned if anyone would dare to attempt to take what was rightly his.

At five moons, your nameday came.

Each and every year, your uncle went out of his way to spoil you. Allowance spent on jewels, chasing his mother around, begging her to throw something in celebration of you.

Now that he was the king, the realm and its coffers were at his disposal. No expense was spared.

He threw a large tourney in your honour, sat in the royal box and held your hand as if you were going to disappear, and made a pointed effort to dismiss every man who claimed that pregnant women should not look upon such violence.

As the crowd roared for another tilt, he looked over and smiled — just slightly, careful as ever — reaching his free hand to cup your cheek. "Happy?"

You nodded. He always made you feel like the centre of the world.

By the sixth moon of your pregnancy, the king was ravenous.

Day and night, atop and below, anytime he could have you, he would.

Such great hips and thighs, and such amazing swollen breasts so tender to the touch were not to be wasted.

His cheek was carefully nuzzled in the valley between your tits as he caressed one with gentle fingers.

Fucking was becoming a careful business now, yet it left him more breathless than ever.

"Do you think the babe presses against your cunt? I swear it has gotten even tighter."

You chuckled with an indolent breath, hand on his back, still and calm.

"No… I think them sat on my bladder. I cannot go ten minutes without needing to piss."

The king hummed and untucked his head from your bosom, pressing a kiss to your cheek as his hand splayed out over your bump. "Naughty princess, bothering her mummy so soon."

A soft huff left you, far more amused than exasperated. "We do not know if she is a princess-"

The words were cut off with a kick to your belly that felt more like a punch beneath your husband's hand. Before you had felt flutters and slight movement… but never a proper kick.

Aemond's mouth was slightly opened, then he grinned, tapping the spot to urge another jab — like a boy finding a funny new toy. "Regardless of whether or not the child has a cock… we know that it is a dragon."

The following moon came and went swiftly. Now, you had a babe of seven moons thrashing inside of you.

They did so especially whenever you took to the skies on Vermithor — whom you were desperately struggling to climb onto by now — as if they could feel their ancestry through the flesh of their mother.

They also enjoyed kicking when you were in council.

It was nice, like having a friend with a secret language that was shared only between the two of you.

It was often, these days to see the queen smiling down at her belly, ignoring the lords at the table happily. The king joined in her joy, and would stop his usual pacing to feel the kicks of the child.

"My little dragon." He whispered in the dead of night, not wanting to spoil your sleep. "Kepa loves you."

He had begun talking to your stomach the moment he had found out about your pregnancy, but the conversations had been growing lengthier of late.

"You shall be born into warmest embrace."

He kissed your navel, eye shut, completely absorbed in the moment.

"There is no woman more quintessential to be your mother." His long fingers traced the slight, silver stretch marks that had latterly appeared.

"You…" His forehead pressed against your swollen belly. "Are my heir. My realm."

That was taken with a prompt thump to his temple. He breathed out in amusement.

"I shall allow you to sleep in peace. My apologies."

As the child expanded, so too did the extent of your exhaustion. Most especially during court. An uncomfortably padded chair combined with the weight of a dragon pressing on your pelvis had your hips sore and your eyelids drooping.

Oftentimes the king would return from whatever midday task he had to change clothes or freshen himself, and you would be asleep so deeply that you resembled a dead body.

He liked to place a hand to your belly and a finger to your upper lip, to ensure you were breathing, and to let his heir know that muña was alright, just a bit weary. He would peck your lips, order food for your due waking, and continue with his day.

Perhaps his grace's favourite part of your pregnancy was how insatiable you were.

Morn, noon, and night, you would have him on his knees, working you with his fingers, or his cock. Whatever he would give, you would take.

Your uncle gave it all. He never could deny you… but now, as you whined in want, belly swollen with his seed and love, he took your pleasure more seriously than his duties as the king.

Laying on your back during the act had become painful. Being bent over a piece of furniture was no longer possible, and taking him on your hands and knees always had you more focused on not losing your balance than the actual sensations.

To say the least, you were at your wit's end of trying to get your fill and being too frustrated to finish.

You all but smacked your husband when he pulled you on top of him.

"I know, I know!" He replied quickly when he saw the look on your face, adjusting you to spread your legs widely as he slipped a practiced finger between your thighs to rub at your pearl.

Riding was far too tiring. You had no intention of doing so.

"I will accommodate you. Move as you like, sweet wife. I shall bear your weight."

Those words were met with a swift scoff. You looked down at him with boredom in your eyes.

The king sighed. "If you do not want to, you do not have to."

Your eyes rolled, and you planted your palms firmly on his chest. "I did not say that."

That made your husband sigh in victory, and he helped you lower over his hardened cock slowly, the pair of you making relieved sounds of pleasure.

By the end of the minutes, there were reddened marks on your hips, but they were completely worth it.

That night, you fell asleep spent with a smile on your face.

The next few evenings and mornings you spent coupling in that way.

During such intimacy, feelings your husband had thought he would be able to keep buried had bubbled to the surface.

They disgusted him as much as they filled him with arousal.

It happened first when you were sat on his face, your glorious cunt on his lips, and your full thighs in his hands.

Your fist was tugging at his hair as you moaned his name beautifully.

"Mummy." He had groaned against your core.

Immediately, he realised and stilled. You had not heard, thanks be to the gods.

A loud, angry whine left your throat as you pulled his hair, losing the ecstasy you were so close to. Though sense quickly came over you, assuming he needed air, you gripped the headboard to help you stand on your knees.

The king was beneath you, breath heaving. He swore he had ascended to the seventh heaven.

The queen above him, swollen breasts and belly, a wanton blush across her face as she brushed her thumb over his forehead.

"Aemond? My darling?"

He nodded, mouth parted as he licked your arousal from the corners of his lips.

"Sit down."

You obeyed.

After, you laid naked on the bed, on your side, uncovered and in lazy conversation with your husband.

"The Baratheons have passed their days of glory."

You murmured lazily, playing with a strand of silver hair with one hand as your other rested on your belly, brushing the barely-there dimple that used to be your bellybutton. "Lord Borros is a fat idiot… he cannot even read."

Your husband hummed, placing his hairbrush down and joining you on the bed.

His hands found your breasts and bump as if they were magnetic.

"Aemond. Are you even listening to me?"

The king blinked slowly. The scolding tone was making this worse.

Every part of him burned with embarrassment, but he needed to expose this part of himself when he was in control, lest he ruin an intimate moment.

"Wife… I feel I must discuss something with you."

Covers rustled as he intertwined your legs, eyes focused on your nipples, then back at your face.

A knit formed between your eyebrows as you lazily brushed his upper abs.

The king did not want you to think him perverted, even though that is what he truly was.

Thoughts of you with child — with his child —, praising him, had run through his mind since that first day your pleasures had been discovered in the library when you were four and ten. When that raunchy book lay forgotten on the windowsill as your uncle learned to rub your pearl the way that made you gasp.

"Mm, what?" You replied with a yawn, laying your head onto the fluffed red pillows.

His hand was still on your belly — resting over your own — while his other gently caressed your tender breast, circling the hardened, enlarged nipple.

"You have the body of a mother now… you have for some months."

"Is that a problem?" You teased dryly, knowing it was not. He loved your bigger breasts, wider hips, rounder arse, and thicker thighs.

"Not in the least." A soft sigh escaped him as he moved both his gaze and hand from your tit to your face. The king cupped your cheek and laid his head on the pillow as well.

"On the contrary, in fact. It- I suppose I enjoy being beneath you, while you are in this state."

"Really?" You murmured sarcastically, too tired to catch his drift, tracing circles over his bicep lazily.

Aemond nodded, about to speak again in riddles but being cut off by your lips assailing his scar and sapphire.

"Handsome." You were always pleased with yourself when you saw his face bare.

He huffed softly. The action reminded him that he did not have to fear judgment, for it was you, his miracle, his wife, his queen who was in possession of every secret he held.

His eye was shut, and his hand drifted along your round belly slowly. "Your figure enlivens me. I am aroused by the thought of it. And the title the babe has given you."

Your brows scrunched together in confusion. "The title?"

A quick nod was his response.

"Ñuha jorrāeliarzy..would it be too depraved if I were to call you by it when we make love?" He whispered.

Oh.

An amused huff left your mouth, as your thumb traced his scar. A soft challenge was spoken in the safe bubble of your bedchamber. "Say it right now."

Aemond breathed out through his nose. This reaction was unsurprising, but he still had to brace himself for the cringe he was sure to feel, baring this part of himself to you.

His fingers splayed out along your belly, and he tucked his head into your neck.

"Mummy." The warrior king mumbled, pressing a gentle kiss below your ear.

Your nails gentle scratched at his nape. The tone you used was soft and sweet, only for him. "Yes, my love?"

Gods, he melted. His legs curled up just slightly, and his head moved to rest against your breasts.

"Did you have a difficult day?" You murmured against his hair, kissing his crown and cupping the back of his head to keep him there.

The warmth of your tits was felt against his cheek as he nodded.

"It is over now, valzȳrys." Your hand found his lower back, and you began rubbing it gently.

The king made a quiet sound of true pleasure, listening to the beat of your heart. One large hand held your breast, feeling its heaviness.

He could not wait for them to swell with milk.

Soft lips kissed his scalp again.

Tonight was sweetness, tomorrow would be frustration.

By now, you were more than eight moons pregnant. No longer could you ride your dragon, or go up a flight of stairs without needing a few minutes to regain your breath. The stride you used to have has been replaced by a waddle, and everything is getting a bit too real.

It came to a head in the gardens.

A group of ladies and their queen having a small luncheon. Then wine began to flow around, and those proper ladies devolved into dim gossips who thought it their place to terrify the queen.

"When I had my second, he was flipped about. The maesters pushed my abdomen so hard that they cracked a rib! I could even hear it!"

Leave was taken rapidly after that declaration.

There was no way to describe the feeling in your gut besides utter terror. Labour seemed so far away for so long, but day by day, it crept closer. Now you were little more than two weeks away from giving birth.

The pout on your lips as you walked towards the holdfast was clear.

Large, heavy doors opened to your chambers, and you called out.

"Aemond?"

There was no reply. But the scent of lemons and incense was wafting through the air. You waddled into the bath in chamber.

The king was slouched in the marble tub, relaxation on his face turning to a grin as he looked you over.

"Gevie."

His hand reached for yours when you got to the edge, kissing the back of it, then slowly rubbing your knuckles. "Did you enjoy your time with the ladies?"

"Do you think I had fun with those prattling cows?" You snapped.

The look on your husband's face morphed into a surprised one. "I would take that as a no." He kissed the back of your hand once again, undeterred. "What is it that ails you, my queen?"

"Lady Webber, she-" Without your leave, tears had gathered and fallen in a matter of seconds.

Soft lips quivered as you let out a weak sob. "Aemond, I am terrified."

Most would assume that you were not afraid of anything. You claimed Vermithor at the age of eight, for the gods' sake. For you to be even startled was a great feat, and this outburst worried your husband to no end.

Water sloshed around the edge of the large tub when he climbed out. The puddle surrounding it was none of his concern.

He embraced you immediately, dripping naked body wetting your deep blue dress. A large hand rubbed your back as the other cupped your head, holding it against his bare chest.

Comforting you with words was not his strong suit. His vocabulary seemed to vanish when it was needed most.

"I know that birth is an intimidating business… but you are strong, ābrazȳrys." He kissed the top of your head with cold lips. "Nothing could take you from me. Let alone our own babe."

Such words were murmured against the top of your head in attempt to relax you, but he still heard muted gasps coming from your choked throat.

The king lifted you without warning, like a bride, held carefully as he strode into the main bedchamber, and set you on the bed like a sheet of crystallised sugar at risk of breaking with a mere glance.

His large hands cupped your face, smiling at you tenderly — trying to make you take it on yourself — while wiping away your tears with his thumbs.

"How may I temper your anxieties?"

The bridge of your nose twitched as you sniffled. You raised your hands to grip his forearm desperately.

The idea had recently plagued you, whenever you thought of labouring. The man you married would never do such a thing to you, would never allow it. Still, it was a nightmare that had haunted you.

"Do not let them cut me open." You begged shakily, teary-eyed.

Aemond's brows furrowed as he looked down at you. "My sweet, I would never. You know that, I would stand between any blade seeking you."

He lowered himself to look closely into your violet eyes.

"Avy jorrāelan, niece." He leaned his forehead against yours. "It is not because I can breed you. I would love you still were you barren. You may carry my heir, but never would I allow you to think that your very life would be forfeit for the mere continuation of my legacy. I swear this to you."

Slowly, you nodded your head.

The king gave you a gentle kiss, and laid with you for a few long moments, before sitting up and helping you out of your bothersome dress. He took you to bathe with him, as you often do. And even though he is awful at it, washed your hair.

You sat between his legs, all your weight against him, sniffling still.

Your husband had thoughts of the past on his mind, as he caressed your belly slowly.

"Do you remember that day on the battlements?" The sound of sloshing water backed his soft words, his chin resting atop your head.

"We always used to go on the battlements." You replied dryly, arms crossed over your chest, not in the best of moods after earlier.

"When we were two and ten. I had just gotten my sapphire in, and I was whining about the pain." He kissed your scalp.

A thoughtful expression grew on your face. "That was in your chambers."

He nodded. "Part of it, I know."

"We were hiding from Alicent." You chuckled lazily, relaxing a bit more, slouching delicately.

Aemond's mother was enraged around that time of your lives. She never liked how affectionate her son was with you, and when she heard about your recent flowering, she decided you should not be alone together.

"Mm, but I mean our conversation. About children." Your husband said softly, dipping his head to the crook of his neck.

That day, only four years ago, you had made a promise. That you would never be like your parents. Aemond vowed to love his children, not matter how unremarkable. He would not be Viserys. He would be calm and collected, unlike Alicent. You vowed never to make your children feel replaced, as Rhaenyra had done to you.

Those promises seemed more important than ever as the days went by.

After the bath, you sat on your husbands lap by the cracking hearth — to dry your hair —, a book abandoned on the oak side table. Sugar covered your tongue as your uncle fed you pastries.

Aemond had occupied his spare hand by rubbing your stomach. He was convinced he would never get tired of it. The idea that there was truly a miniature version of you and he merged inside of your belly still befuddled him.

"I cannot wait to meet our little dragon." He murmured quietly, the corners of his lips upturned in fondness.

"Mm." You hummed through a cake-stuffed mouth, swallowing and sitting up straighter, cupping your bump with adoration.

The king's sapphire glinted from fire-light, his face calm and fond.

"I am so proud of you."

A smile formed on your face, and you looked into his lone eye fondly. He kissed your shoulder.

That made a sound of contentment come from deep in your chest, covering his hand on your belly, feeling the weighty kicks the babe was so insistent on today.

One could hear the grin on the king's face without looking at it. "The little one is active."

You nodded, then leaned your head against his.

"They can feel your presence."

"Whenever you say they, you make me want for twins."

"They is neutral to sex."

"So? I already know that we have a princess."

A chuckle left you, he's been so insistent on that fact your entire pregnancy. "It is a prince."

Your uncle rolled his eye. "Did the babe tell you that?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. I can sense it."

Aemond chuckled but did not fight you. He simply continued to caress your belly and back.

"You will be the best of fathers." You murmured happily against the top of his head, soothing his insecurities with your mere presence.

At nine moons exactly, one would have liked to spend every waking moment attempting to sleep, but the tireless work of holding the realm together continued.

Many ambassadors of different lands passed through the Red Keep, but rarely a representative as important as this one. The Prince of Pentos' eldest son, and his wife had come to sample the hospitality of your home and negotiate trade.

You really did not care. In a plush seat at the side of the throne's foot, you sat, hands clasped over your belly, as the large doors opened.

"Myrion Mopatis, the eldest son of the Prince of Pentos, and his lady wife."

The greeting was brief, the luncheon after it long. But you found that you did not mind. Aemond seemed to find the son sensible, and you thought his wife funny.

Her name was Serenei. She had long black hair and deep brown eyes, she looked almost Dornish. You decided you would keep her.

"I have never seen a woman to hate her husband more." You chuckled, sprawled onto a chaise. Your uncle sat at the end of it, massaging your swollen feet.

He shared your amusement with a quiet huff. "I suppose he is rather dull."

A quick counter came from your lips before a yawn. "You prefer dull people to bright ones."

"I do not." He muttered calmly as he focused down at his task, stroking his strong thumbs over the balls of your feet.

The fabric of your thin nightgown fell from your bump when you untied it, laying your hand there carefully, murmuring conspiratorially down to the child inside. "Kepa knows that I am right."

"Stop turning the babe against me." He murmured in concealed amusement, reaching a hand out to cover yours on your large belly.

"Why would the babe be on your side? He does not know you as well as he does I."

Aemond hummed, feeling around to try and get a reaction, but gaining none.

"The heir is sleepy, I think." He murmured quietly. "It's a tiresome thing, growing."

His musings made you huff in amusement, firelight dancing in your eyes. "As someone with a middle the size of a barrel, I agree."

The king shook his head plainly; he disliked when you talked of your body that way.

"My beloved, do not be ridiculous. You are the perfect size."

A yawn left you.

"Is that sarcasm or exhaustion?"

"Both."

He hummed lowly and scooped you up, walked across the chamber with you cradled against his chest, then set you into bed gently, tucking the covers around your body. Then he began unclasping his tunic.

"I went on a search for eggs again this morn. I cannot choose one out of Dreamfyre's clutch." He murmured quietly, knowing your opinion on the topic already.

Slow, affectionate hands rubbed your belly as you tilted your head to give him the look.

"Aemond, I do not want the babe to have an egg."

"And I think that is stupid."

A scoff left you. "My egg never hatched. Your egg never hatched. Look at the dragons we ride now. They may choose a grown dragon when they are age enough for it, and it shall be far more powerful and worthy than some hatchling."

Aemond's eyes were set down, presumably to unlace his breeches, mostly because he didn't want to face your words.

"The heir to the Iron Throne deserves a dragon at birth."

A sigh left you, struggling not to roll your eyes. "My darling, our child will not think themself unloved if they do not have a hatchling at the grand age of one."

Your husband clearly disliked that, his face twitching as he pushed down his breeches.

A hand left your belly, reaching out in want for his. "Aemond, will you heed me?" You asked softly, like he was a troublesome child only tamed by affection.

The king looked up to meet your eyes at the soft tone, and took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

"You are not Viserys." You began carefully, gripping his fingers tightly. "The child already knows that he or she is loved." A gentle hand moved your intertwined ones to your belly, holding them there as you looked into your husband's lone eye. "They do not need a dragon as proof of that."

The man before you swallowed, his throat bobbing as he understood you. In childhood, his father had thought him a disappointment for not having a dragon. He disregarded him even more so than his siblings, for something the gods only controlled.

His face crumpled when he sniffled, blue eye suddenly full with salty tears. Leather in the form of his eye patch was swiftly forgotten and fell to the floor, as he took a seat on the edge of the bed and looked at you with a shaky resolve.

How handsome he was when he cried. His sapphire gleamed, wet from the malfunctioning duct on his left side.

The soft sound of breath from his lips was when you knew you had won. The king laid down, burying his face against your breasts as he sobbed silently.

"It's alright, sweetling." You murmured against his scalp, pressing a soft kiss there.

The tone of his voice was gasping and desperate, so unlike the straight warrior he was known as. "I.."

"I have you."

The next day, you ventured out of the keep as you did each morn. Well, it had turned to afternoon more recently.

Your last ride upon your dragon had been at seven moons. Since your belly had grown, climbing onto the beast had become near-impossible, and when your husband watched you nearly fall dismounting, he forbade any more flights.

As much as it saddened you, it was for the best. You still visited Vermithor, each and every aforementioned day.

He grew restless and aggressive whenever apart from you, having gotten even more protective since you became with a babe.

The ride in the wheelhouse was uncomfortable, but you endured it to see him.

Since he became king, Aemond proclaimed that the bays belonged to the dragons, that keepers were unnecessary, and that the pit would constantly be alight with fire, heat growing them as it did in Old Valyria.

When Vermithor spotted you — his waddling rider approaching him with a smile — he scurried over so quickly that the ground shook. He stopped just soon enough that he did not knock you, and touched your chest with his nose.

A soft laugh left you, rubbing his nostrils gently. "Dōna valītsos." You murmured.

The biting sea air lifted your hair, sweeping it about, the scent of salt filling you with melancholy.

"My son missed you." You said happily, standing before the large dragon, like an ant with a man. He nudged your belly carefully, knowing of the child inside.

It warmed you.

A week and a half later, at exactly nine moons, and — according to the maesters — eleven days, you were impatient and insufferable.

In the past few days, the babe had manoeuvred themself into place for the south, their head and body pressing on every organ and bone you had in your middle. Sleep was a struggle, even if you felt like you were always sleeping.

It was the middle of the night, maybe the early hours of the morning — how were you to know? The child had its entire body on your bladder, and you desperately needed to use the privy.

Slowly, you attempted to sit up. Alas, no. Your husband's grip was too tight, and you were too weak.

"Aemond." You murmured aimlessly into the night, his chest pressed against your back. A loud huff of annoyance left you.

"Husband!"

The man behind you made a quiet sound in waking, kissing your neck as if thinking it were him who had woken for no reason, then relaxed.

"Aemond."

The king's eye opened, his head untucking from your neck. He hummed in acknowledgment.

"I need to piss. Help me up."

The covers rustled as he loosened his grip around you, cursing the cold that came right before spring. He stood at the edge of the bed — pushing the awaiting cradle to the side — and gripped your hips; he disliked you doing any type of physical activity that he could do for you.

Your hands clutched his biceps, and you let out a loud sigh, laying your head against his chest for a moment of respite; on the edge of heaving breath just from standing.

Your uncle cupped your nape and scratched slowly at your scalp.

"Jorrāelagon ābrazȳrys." Was murmured softly in High Valyrian, practiced words soothing you as his free arm embraced you.

Then, before you could register the feeling, liquid was splashing out of you into a large, dark puddle on the ground.

The king's grip around you tightened. "Was that..?"

Once you had looked down at the puddle, and the droplets clinging to your legs, you nodded. Your waters.

He joined you in your nod, clearly out of his depth already as he held you tighter, worried. "Alright…"

Twelve hours later, the castle was beginning to bustle. But Maegor's Holdfast had never stopped.

The loud sobs coming from the king's chambers would unsettle those with the strongest of dispositions.

Slow, heavy feet paced around the ostentatious rooms. "Where is my husband?" You sniffled, eyes red and voice hoarse.

A white sweat-damp chemise that was basically see-through by now was draped over your figure, bulging at the belly just like you.

"The king is just in the corridor, your grace." A midwife said carefully, reaching out to touch your forearm to hopefully calm you.

Quickly, you shrugged her off, letting out a loud cry and leaning your temple against one of the tall pillars.

The sound of the massive doors opening reverberated throughout the chamber, along with your husband's quick stride over to you. He had left only for a moment, and was barely outside of the door as he conversed with Tyland.

The king met you near immediately. He was silent as he placed his hands on your hips from behind, squeezing and rubbing in hopes of giving you some form of relief. The touch was careful not to get in the way of your hair, that he had half braided to get it out of your way.

Comforting nothings left him with an empty mouth. Words wouldn't be helpful, he figured; you never liked to deal with communication when angry or in pain, so he stayed quiet, and kissed your shoulder as you let out cries of differing intensities.

It felt like your insides were parting ways. Oh gods, you were pushing without even realising. A hopeless wail left you, your knees buckling. "Aemond-" You babbled, voice shaken an useless with tears.

The midwives recognised the action and rushed over, all but pushing your husband out of the way.

The cords in the back of your throat almost ripped with the screech you let out, on your knees. Aemond rushed to kneel with you, taking your weight as his, laying your arms over his shoulders as if you were a rag doll.

A loud sob left you, face scrunched up in both agony and fear.

"You are almost there, sweetling." The king murmured, leaning his forehead against yours to keep you present. "Focus on me."

A minute later, with a dragging scream from you, soft, innocent cries filled the chamber. A babe was born.

Immediately, you slumped against your husband, relieved and exhausted. The afterbirth slipped out with one lazy push.

His gaze was set on you incandescently, and he could not resist kissing your lips just briefly. "Well done, my love. You were so perfect." He almost whispered, holding the back of your head tightly as he eyed the child just a step away, watching a midwife cut the pulsing cord.

Another woman slid a number of pillows under you, and helped you manoeuvre onto your bottom. Then you were handed the babe.

It was screeching its little heart out, fighting the swaddle of white linen. So weighty yet so delicate. Silver hair and its mother's violet eyes. Its father's nose.

A tear tan down your cheek. "Hello…"

Your husband's arm was still tightly around you, and he was sat beside you now. His own eye was teary. A careful finger brushed the child's cheek.

"A boy." A midwife said quietly, then backed away to give space.

A soft cry left you, bottom lip trembling as the babe began to calm in your arms. "Issa taoba.." You sniffled, looking at your husband. "I told you."

A soft, exasperated breath of pure joy left him.

Once in bed, comforted and tucked in, you named your son.

"Vaemon." You murmured as you looked down at him latched onto your breast, suckling as if his first day was his last.

The king had a gentle grin on his face, "A strong name." sat on a chair beside the bed, looking at his wife and child with nothing but adoration and reverence.

"He is the image of you." Your husband said warmly, leaning in to kiss your shoulder. His heart swelled by the picture of you nourishing the babe with your own body.

He felt emotional, to think that your love created this sweet, sinless little being. His temple pressed against your bicep. The sapphire was uncovered, glinting with the daylight. He had wanted no barriers.

The prince's mouth had stopped sucking when you looked down, a sleepy milk-drunk expression across his little face. You stroked his cheek gently. Then murmured into your husband's hair. "Would you like to hold him?"

Aemond was incredibly worried of dropping him, making him cry, anything along those lines, but there was nothing he wanted more the to feel the babe's weight in his arms. He nodded avidly.

You handed Vaemon over slowly, careful not to jostle his weak head.

The king looked down at his son in his arms with a growing lump in his throat, watching the child squirm for a moment and then relax. His wide violet eyes staring up at his father with the same gaze of his mother.

"I cannot believe that you made him." He murmured with quiet awe, gaze set downwards as he gripped the swaddle for dear life, terrified of letting him slip from his grip.

"He has your nose." You murmured with a lazy lilt of fondness, head tilted into the pillow.

Aemond, thumb brushed across the bridge of their son's nose, staring into his massive violet eyes. "Everything else is of yours."

Vaemon began to squirm, letting out quiet coos that sounded like discomfort to his inexperienced father.

Your husband's eye snapped up to meet yours. "What is wrong with him?"

A soft breath of amusement left you. "Nothing at all."

When Aemond later went to inform the court of the heir's birth, he was coined 'The Spring Prince', for the break of winter had been confirmed, a raven carrying the news from the Citadel when you were in your labours.

The succession was at rest. A healthy babe was in your arms. The realm rejoiced.

The king showered you with affections beyond comprehension, you had not ceased smiling since marriage, with the birth of this child, your face was like to freeze that was.

Love was the oddest of things, ever-growing and changing, always soft. Like the gentle wisps of silver on your son's head.

"The prince has much hair." Orwyle said with almost amusement as he held the babe wrapped in pink gossamer, the small council gathered in your bedchamber, lined up in a half circle shape around the bed you laid in.

There was a lazy grin on your face, head leaned against your husband's bicep — Aemond stood at the edge of the large piece of furniture, an arm draped over your shoulders possessively, eye trained on his son to ensure his safety.

"Doesn't he? I had no notion that it could be so long." You murmured, looking at Vaemon with such googly eyes one would wonder if you were the first woman ever to have a child.

It had been time enough, your husband decided silently. He promptly snatched his son from the Grand Maester, taking him carefully, with precision — still petrified of hurting him.

"My wife must rest." He said plainly, looking away from them, uncaring, his words polite code for 'fuck off', though that phrase awaited in case.

The council obeyed, and scurried out.

Heavy eyelids blinked around your engorged pupils, looking up at your husband with a dreamy expression.

How attractive he was. The aura of protectiveness emanated from him, mixed with fatherly nurture as he stared down at your child, trying to gauge by the babe's facial expressions if he was holding him correctly.

"Comfortable, little one?" He asked in a low whisper, eyebrows raised like he was looking for an eloquent answer. But it was clearly a tease, the corners of his mouth upturned.

The prince began to whimper. The king began to rock him. He was so good with him, it made you wish to cry.

"Gevie." He said with a growing grin, staring down at his wailing son with pure pride. "You get that from your mother."

The babe's cries began to relax after a few moments, and the father smiled even wider, cradling him tightly.

"My love?" You murmured tiredly, head melting into the pillow even more with the movement of your jaw.

Your uncle looked at you with tenderness, his sapphire glinting under the candlelight of the chamber, black leather hugging his body as he did the same to your son, cradling him carefully. "What can I do?"

"Nothing." A soft whisper came from you.

Aemond took his seat at the edge of the bed again, holding Vaemon against his chest.

"Sleep, sweet wife. I have you both."

A weak pop came from your neck, barely managing a single nod before drifting off.

What happy dreams they were. Of your future, of your beautiful babe and his wonderful father.

It was three hours later when you woke to the sound of pained little cries, eyes fluttering open to see your husband shushing his son and rocking him desperately.

He caught your eye accidentally, and looked guilty as he strode to the edge of the bed. "I know not his issue." The king said with a self-deprecating frown.

"He is hungry." You murmured with a yawn, untying the chest tie of your fresh nightgown.

"So soon?" Your uncle asked — genuinely surprised, taking a seat at the edge of the bed and carefully placing the screeching babe onto your chest.

A nod was your answer, as you adjusted the little prince against your breast, helping him gather your nipple and suck deeply. Once he got it, you smiled, and cupped his body.

Aemond was unsurprised when you vowed early in pregnancy not to let another woman feed them. It was unheard of for a child of a noble to be fed around the clock by their mother, let alone by a queen. But your love knew no bounds, and your possessiveness would never allow another to nourish your own son.

He braced his elbow at the edge of the bed, free hand coming up the cup your cheek. You leaned your head into his hand and smiled.

"You must be starving, my darling." He said seriously, tucking the covers securely around you. "Supper is coming."

A yawn left you, resting your chin against your collarbone, looking down at your son with a indolent grin.

The sounds of nursing, the smacking of his lips and his desperate breathing filled the room.

Aemond grinned in amusement, stroking his long fingers over the babe's head. "Who is going to tell him that he will not be ripped from your breast?" He joked.

It was four days after you gave birth that you escaped the very attentive eye of your husband, and in true Targaryen fashion, climbed your dragon with a child strapped to your chest, and flew above the clouds.

The king was livid.

He sat the Iron Throne and gripped the arm rests so tightly it was a wonder he was not cut. At the base of the steps was the hand, being less than helpful. Its not like his sire was listening, anyway.

The king rolled his eye. "Go."

Tyland slipped out, and almost simultaneously, the heavy throne room doors opened, revealing the most beautiful of sights.

The hall was dark and dull in the spring evening, but the light of the queen brightened it. She, with loose windswept hair, wearing black, contouring riding leathers, and a babe tied to her with a crimson wrap.

Gods, it was so impossible to stay angry at you…

"I hear you went for a flight." He said dryly, keeping his voice neutral as you practically skipped across the large hall.

"He adored it!" You grinned, cupping Vaemon's head and bottom as he cooed, holding him tightly despite how securely he was wrapped to you.

Aemond raised a hand to his temple and rubbed it. You take years off of his life.

He began carefully, standing from the throne and slowly descending. "My love, you should not be out of bed. Let alone climbing a dragon. That cannot be beneficial for healing."

"Nonsense." You muttered back without even glancing at him, eyes set down on your son's silver hair.

The king sighed. There was one person in the realm who could defy him and not be threatened; his queen.

After a moment, he was off of the iron steps and reached for your cheek, his other hand touching the wrap to feel his son's safety for himself.

A smile was on your face when you looked up into his eye.

"Wife."

"Yes?"

"You left without informing me. I feared for you." He murmured quietly, a genuine concern washed over his face.

You leaned your head into his palm, still smiling because you were the victor.

"I did not mean to frighten you…"

He sighed and caressed your cheek. "You gave birth four days ago. Whenever you shift it bed, it scares me."

The look on his face made you reconsider just slightly. "I should have informed you. But you would not have let me out of our chambers if I had."

"That is for your own good."

The whites of your eyes made an appearance as you rolled them.

The king sighed again. "Go to bed, niece."

A week after birth, you had settled into a routine with the babe.

Vaemon slept between you and your husband at night, and suckled whenever he wished. He was proving to be a lusty boy who didn't like anything as much as eating.

Unfortunately, it seemed your breasts were swollen no matter how much he drank.

This past night, you had gained no rest whatsoever. The pain in your chest was too large.

When the sun began to rise, and dark circles had settled beneath your eyes, you broke, and sobbed uncontrollably.

This woke your husband, who was worried to no end within a moment of consciousness.

He tightened his arm around you on instinct, and noted that his son was in the cradle at your side of the bed. You never placed him there.

"My love, please. What is it?" He pleaded, gruffly, sitting up like a horse's ear would prick, looking down at you, trying to see the issue.

Your lip was quivering, tears rolling down your face as you met his eye. "My breasts, they-" Another loud, unattractive sob left you.

Ah. His eye flickered down to your chest, noting your swollen flesh and aggressively peaked nipples. Poor thing, he thought.

Your husband raised a hand to one of your exposed tits, and held it carefully. Gods, it was like a rock.

Simultaneously, you winced and buried your face against his shoulder, voice whiny and hoarse. "They are so full."

Aemond nodded, brows furrowed as he thought of what to do. The king looked into your eyes once again, a question in his lone blue one.

Immediately, you nodded through tear-blurred sight — anything to stop this ache.

Your uncle made eye contact with your nipple, and leaned his head down to latch onto it, sucking greedily.

The milk was so sweet, gods it aroused him. It would be a lie to say that this was not a fantasy of his, to drink from your breasts while you praised him.

It was a feckless thing to try and shake himself out of that mindset, for the liquid tasted so saccharine; the deepest form of a mother's nurture in his mouth, filling him with warmth and acceptance.

What a strange, perverted man he was — and he knew it.

Fortunately, his desire did not rob him of his sense of duty, and he switched sides, keen on giving you relief.

Still, you cried, overwhelmed from pain and the overactive emotions that came after giving birth. Fingers dug and scraped at his back as they did whenever you fucked.

The king held both breasts in his gentle hands, and redoubled his efforts, pulling hungry mouthful after hungry mouthful of honeyed milk from your tits until they were practically empty.

Then — only when your cries halted — he lifted his head, dribbles of milk on his chin. He eyed your poor reddened face.

"Better, ābrazyrys?" He whispered softly, raising a hand to cup your face just as he straightened up.

A swift nod was your answer, sniffling and curling into him limply.

Aemond gladly scooped you into his lap, and pulled the covers over the pair of you.

You nuzzled your cheek against his pec, seeking closeness, and receiving it as he stroked your hair.

"The gods curse women." You murmured, voice watery and in no way kind, petulantly cowering into his embrace.

The king nodded against your scalp, his chin rested there. The loose curtain of his hair around your face was comforting, as was the sound of his hum.

You felt something poking your thigh. Then you thought of his depravity. "You are hard."

A sound of surprise left him — as if he was unaware — and he spoke quietly, shifting you in his hold. "My apologies."

You snivelled and laid back, pulling him by the bicep to join you. He obeyed and followed, drawing you to him by the waist, pressing a few reverent kisses to your head.

Careful fingers brushed the edge of your breast. "The pain is gone?" He murmured into your hair.

"Almost." You whispered back, voice weak and defeated. He sighed at your tone and pressed his lips to your temple.

The king continued to massage your chest, trying to relieve the lingering discomfort."I left some… just in case he wakes."

On cue, the babe's heavy breathing and whimpers began to fill the large rooms.

Aemond huffed softly, leaning over you to look. The babe laid in the cradle, his legs tucked up, his little face scrunched in sadness.

The king lifted him swiftly, cupping his bottom and head as he laid him on his hard chest.

"What is it, hmm?" He murmured against the child's silver hair, leaning his head against yours as your son began to cry.

"The cold world." You said against his shoulder, words muffled. "He misses my womb."

Aemond hummed in agreement.

It was after two weeks when your uncle finally felt like he was getting the hang of fatherhood.

You loved it, for he looked so handsome holding Vaemon. So nurturing. You would climb atop him if you could.

The lithe man paced around your bed, tapping his son on the back with such little force that it didn't make a sound.

"He will not burp."

You were laughing to yourself lazily, sat up against the pillows — he refuses to let you out of bed — enjoying the sight.

"You must actually pat his back."

The king scoffed and paced to the side of the bed, bare feet silent against stone. "That is what I am doing." He replied dryly, still tapping the babe's back.

Your poor soon had a look of discomfort on his little face.

"You are doing it wrong."

Aemond huffed, but relented. Vaemon was squirming at this point, head rested haphazardly on his father's strong forearm. With one firm pat against the child's back, he spat up half of his feed onto the floor.

A soft sigh left you, still utterly amused. Your husband looked up like a deer in headlights, readjusted the babe, then reached for a cloth to wipe his mouth.

The spill was cleaned swiftly by a nameless maid, and your son was placed in your arms, his father having far too much to process to be in possession of him.

"He is so happy." Your uncle murmured thoughtfully to the babe while he sipped water, brushing his little back as he laid flat on your chest, cooing happily.

A happy hum was your response as you laid your head on his shoulder. He set down his cup, wrapped an arm around you, and kissed the side of your head.

"You are such a wonderful mother."He said quietly, chin nuzzling the top of your head.

A soft sigh left you, as you shut your eyes and caressed your son's head. "He adores you."

Aemond kissed your cheek, and then eyed Vaemon, who seemed to have drifted off. "I did not grow him inside for nine moons. Nor nourish him, as you do."

"So is my duty." A yawn left you, nuzzling your husband's collarbone. "I am a mother now."

The king let out a breath of almost disbelief. "And I thought that you could not be any more perfect."

The corners of your mouth tugged upwards into a lazy smile, eyes shutting, and sheets rustling.

"Sleep, my sweet." He rubbed your side slowly.

With that, you drifted off. Aemond murmured of his love for you, and for his beautiful son.

You were the queen, a Targaryen of Old Valyrian heritage, and the mother to the next king. But none of that mattered.

You were a wife to a man who loved you, and mummy to the most adorable son the gods had ever graced a woman with.

This little family was sure to grow, and you could not wait. Soon, high laughter would be wracking the walls, and the patter of wet, tiny feet would fill the holdfast.

This very keep would be bursting at the seams to accommodate the brood you wished for, and your husband would be the happiest to order and extension.

Anything to see you contented, beautiful, and swollen with his children to the point that no man or woman could ever question whose you were.

Aemond Targaryen m.list 🗡

hello my apologies for the length lol... hence the wait

pls forgive any typos and random bs, like i said this ho is long and i cannot proofread a fourth time

i actually really do like this tho <3 had it lying around for weeks and decided now was the perfect time in honour of the end of akotsk (still sobbing) and the hotd teaser

i am taking requests so hit my inbox!! also if u js wanna thirst i love those asks too <3

House Targaryen taglist

jjk7: pretty top today. i love it

jjk7: is that a new blush? this one suits you so much

jjk7: you look so cute right now

you knew you were being silly, but you looked forward to seeing that username in your chat every night. after a long but rewarding day, it made you feel warm all over - reinforcing all of the good feelings you were still learning how to have about yourself, after so long of being put down.

you’d even go so far as to mention it to yejin, your best friend and roommate, who indulged you as you gushed about whatever comment jjk7 had left that day, giggling as you bounced around the room like a teenager with a crush.

little did you know that jjk7 was no other than jeon jungkook himself. one of the biggest streamers on the platform, and streaming heartthrob.

he was beyond attractive, the type of hot that felt downright sinful and his audience knew it just as much as he did. guys like that had a sort of confidence that radiated off of them that had everyone turning to look at them, and jungkook fit the memo.

tatted, pierced and buff as fuck - he was every woman’s wet dream, and you weren’t oblivious to it in the slightest. you were shy to admit that you too would turn on his streams whenever you couldn’t sleep, considering he typically would go on so late, and watch him play the games you’d never think to pick up simply because of how hot he looked playing them.

you’d nibble on your lip as he’d make his cheeky comments, thanking his audience for their donations with a smile that had your knees wobbling, giggling to yourself all giddy every time he would let out a sigh or noise. he was trouble, but in the comfort of your 4 walls, he was also a distraction.

if only you knew how deeply the same infatuation was reciprocated.

see, jungkook was confidence personified but even he felt burnt out at times. and so, he had created a secret account, with nothing that would allude it to being his, and would often lurk up and down his feed until he found something that would grab his attention longer than 5 minutes.

most failed, until he happened to fall on one of your livestreams.

you were the complete opposite to him. all baby pink and shy giggles, it took him no longer than 3 seconds in your virtual presence to know he wouldn’t be able to get you out of his system any time soon. 5 minutes, and he was already planning your inevitable wedding.

fuck, you were adorable. giggling with the people in the chat as they joked about with you, all whilst you wandered on animal crossing, fishing, selling, chatting to your villagers. this wasn’t what he was used to - he liked action packed games, the battle royale formats, the looting, the killing.

it didn’t make sense as to why he stayed on your stream until it ended, until you were yawning and stretching your arms above your head, like he hadn’t been flooding your chat with every compliment he could muster just to get your attention.

he even found his heartbeat quickening when you addressed him directly.

“hi jjk7, i think you’re new here.” you smiled so sweetly he groaned out loud. “i’m y/n, we’re nice and cosy over here so if that’s your vibe, you should stay!”

god, like he could fucking leave.

after that night, he found himself turning his notifications on for you, even going so far as to talk about you in his own livestreams. he mentioned how he was getting into cosy gamers, liked watching them, of course not mentioning you by name, but alluding to you.

thankfully; his audience had no idea he was talking about you, but he was growing restless. after joining every live for months, donating small amounts that wouldn’t draw suspicion just to see you squeal, he wanted more. craved more.

he needed you, and he wanted you to need him too.

—

jungkook went live an hour later than usual tonight.

it wasn’t intentional - he’d lost track of time, his eyes stuck watching you and your familiar pink glow radiating on his screen. his chin rested on his palm as you fumbled through another animal crossing task, apologising to your villagers vocally with a wince as though they could hear you.

by the time he clicked start streaming, his chat flooded almost immediately.

‘late today!!!!!!’

‘what were you doing :((‘

‘you look distracted again omg…’

he laughed, leaning back into his chair, hands lacing behind his head as if he wasn’t alternating between his own live and yours in real time, small smirk forming on his face.

“relax, guys.” his smirk grew to accommodate his confidence. “got caught up.”

his chat didn’t buy it for a second.

‘caught up where?’

‘HUH WITH WHO’

‘omg is this about that cosy streamer again’

jungkook didn’t pretend to deny it, simply letting out a huff of amusement. he clicked his tongue before shaking his head. “you guys are so nosy.”

‘wait YOU DIDNT DENY IT’

‘oh he’s down baaaadddd’

‘say her name sAY HER NAME’

his smirk turned into a full blown smile as he bit down a laugh, something warm and dangerous curling deep inside his chest. he glanced at his other screen, where you were giggling away, nodding at something someone was asking you in your chat, utterly eager.

“she’s adorable.” he said with ease, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

the chat exploded.

‘simp simp simp simp’

‘bro you are down BAAAAD’

he laughed this time, shaking his head lightly. “what? am i wrong?”

someone began clipping this immediately.

jungkook leaned forward, piercings glistening in the light of his camera. his eyes were visibly flickering between his own screen and the one beside him with you on it as you read the comments of someone explaining something to you for the third time, smiling through your confusion.

“she’s just…nice to watch. relaxing, you know? you ever see someone and just-“ he waved his hand in front of his face, the lightest flush on his cheeks. “yeah.”

‘oh my fucking god he’s in love’

‘ASK HER OUT’

‘go in her chat JK PLSSSS’

“i already am.” he muttered without thinking.

he froze for half a second. so did his chat.

‘already am omg?’

‘jungkook!!!!!!!!!!’

‘guys are we getting a mother’

he exhaled through a small laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck as he tried to keep up with his comments. “i mean..listen, i watch her streams.”

‘LIAR LIAR LIAAAAAR’

‘bro ur capping ur not fooling anyone’

he shrugged, unapologetic. “i like her. sue me.”

his eyes flicked over to the other screen again, going silent for a few minutes as he openly watched, soft smiles forming on his lips as he matched your giggles with his own small laughs, despite you being completely unaware that he was all but fucking devouring you before everyone’s eyes.

“hold on.” he muttered to his live stream of hundreds of thousands of people.

his gameplay stalled. his chat were screaming.

jungkook barely noticed, pulling his keyboard closer to him as he fully put his attention on you. you were mid sentence, grinning at whatever subject you were discussing with your chat whilst your cheeks flushed warm.

he smiled to himself.

yeah.

adorable as fuck.

you sat at your desk, wearing the cutest frilly top you owned, sweet little bows attached to your hair in clips whilst your matching pink headset sat snug on your head. you were a vision to jungkook, and he couldn’t look away even if he wanted - couldn’t help but imagine you in your pretty colours sat on his lap, playing your games whilst he played his.

“but enough about that, how was everyone’s day? i hope you all had the best day ever!” you hummed, as you clicked around on your computer.

usernames you recognised instantly filled the chat, the usual greetings making your shoulders relax further. you felt so safe, so comfortable, your smile wide.

suddenly. a message appears in the chat.

jeonjungkook: hey

your breath hitched visibly, just slightly. your eyes flickered over the username again, blinking once, twice, as if it might change into something else if you tried hard enough. verified check mark, real account?

“oh my-“ you laughed, quiet, suddenly nervous, still bright but different. “um, hi!”

your chat was going feral, your 10 watchers spamming like crazy. they couldn’t believe this. what the hell was happening?

‘IS THAT-‘

‘Y/N HOLY SHIT’

‘NO. FREAKING. WAY.’

your cheeks were heating bright red, shakily tucking your hair behind your ear. “guys, please.” you let out a small giggle. “be nice.”

more messages began flooding in, alongside more viewers than you’d ever received. not a massive amount, but bigger than usual. you swallowed, your eyes flicking back to his username as more messages popped up.

jeonjungkook: hope this is okay

jeonjungkook: i watch your streams all the time lol

your heart began pounding out of your chest.

“oh my gosh, that’s so sweet!” you breathed out, beaming smile forming on your face as you cupped your flushed face, tilting your head. “thank you!”

you tucked another piece of hair behind your ear as you straightened your back, suddenly very aware of your appearance. the way you were sitting, the way you sounded, was your mic quality okay? this was new equipment so you weren’t sure..

“um, welcome..everyone.” you shyly said into the mic. “i hope you don’t mind, we’re really chill over here.”

jeonjungkook: just how i like it

you went back to your game, fingers moving on autopilot as you tried desperately not to think too much about the fact jeon jungkook was currently in your chat, watching you fish in animal crossing like it was the most important thing in the world.

“okay!” you said after a moment, squinting at the screen. “guys, should i sell this or donate it to the museum?”

the responses came in different waves, as you smiled at a few suggestions. one person stood out the most.

jeonjungkook: musuem

jeonjungkook: blathers will be offended otherwise

you burst out laughing. “see, he gets it.” you teased, glancing at the camera directly. “thank you for being my voice of reason.”

your chat was going insane. some how a few of his followers had found the stream and were screaming, your own fans and mods working overtime to introduce you, asking them to be respectful and filtering out any nasty comments.

jungkook was smiling wide into his own palm.

jeonjungkook: can i ask you something?

“yeah,” you nodded after a moment, noticing his comment. “of course you can.”

jeonjungkook: do you know who i am?

your heated cheeks had returned.

“oh-um, yeah.” you were visibly flustered, laughing. “i mean..obviously, i watch your streams a lot too, you’re really good.”

you felt embarassed, one hand leaving the keyboard to cool your warm face, something that had him groaning out loud. god, he couldn’t handle it. you were so sweet.

jeonjungkook: just really good? :(

your chat practically imploded, your heartbeat going so much quicker. you looked off camera to yejin who was perched on your bed, her mouth dropped to the floor as she silently squealed, making you let out a nervous sort of giggle.

“okay no- you’re like..the best, and..yeah. you’re really intimidating.” you shyly admitted, covering your entire face now.

jungkook genuinely had to stand up and walk around his room for a second, breathing out loud. his own heart was beating faster than anything he’d ever expected. having attention on him was hardly something he wasn’t used to, hell, he thrived on it on most days but having your eyes focused on his messages whilst you turned all pink and shy? it felt like a confession, and he was lapping it up.

his next message came immediately.

jeonjungkook: intimidating, hm? gonna take that as a compliment from you

you smiled, something warm and fluttery blossoming in your chest as your chat continued to spiral, the room suddenly feeling warmer, a little smaller but brighter.

—

the moment you finally clicked end stream, the room fell painfully quiet. only for a few seconds.

no soft lo-fi music in the air anymore, or chat bubbling up in the corner of your screen. you could hear your pc fan whirling away, and the sound of your own deep breathing, as though what just happened was beyond anything you’d truly thought you could experience.

you stared at yourself at your darkened monitor - pink cheeks, bitten lips, wide eyes.

“oh my god.” you whispered to yourself, barely audible, as if saying it any louder would make this real.

yejin didn’t even give you a second. she began screaming.

“oh my fucking god, y/n.” she had scrambled off the bed, grabbing your shoulders as she shook you gently, but with urgency. “that was the jeon jungkook. in your chat. flirting with you.”

you squeaked, breathless and dazed as you slumped in your chair. “don’t say it like that.” you said with a whine. “he was just being nice.”

she blinked at you once. twice.

“girl, shut up.”

you looked over at your phone, where you were getting notifications left right and centre. your follower count was growing rapidly, and a small pit formed in your stomach of slight anxiety from it all whilst discord pings, twitch alerts and messages began to stack, only adding up to make you feel more overwhelmed.

your heart continued to thud painfully in your chest.

yejin continued to ramble before standing up straight. “i need to lie down.”

you smiled despite yourself, curling into yourself a little as the adrenaline began to slow, leaving behind warmth and an overall heavy feeling.

your fingers hovered over your mouse before you could stop yourself and soon enough, you were clicking back into your dashboard.

his vod was right there. you hesitated, for just a second, before pressing play.

there he was.

leaned back in his chair, his hair slightly messy, tattoos on full display, inked fingers tapping away at his screen with an easy smile you had grown accustomed to. to think his attention had been on you was…unbelievable.

you watched as he paused his game, watched him turn his attention to his other screen, smile growing wider whilst he muttered small things to his chat, mainly consisting of him being bullied whilst he groaned out loud, laughing and shaking his head. he was down bad.

“he was really watching.” you breathed.

yejin peeked over your shoulder. “he looks like he wants to eat you.”

you squeaked. “yejin!”

“what?” she grinned. “it’s true, look at him.”

your curser hovered over his name, eyes fluttering as you nibbled on your lip. jeonjungkook. fuck. the fact he admittedly watched your streams constantly, and that he liked them too, was exhilarating to think about.

and by the time you were in bed that night, you rolled over and over, trying to rid yourself of the thought of him, his large biceps and lazy grin. the pang inbetween your legs, unfortunately, rendered that useless.

jungkook couldn’t sleep either.

he was sprawled on his bed, shirtless after his shower, still half hard from the memory of you earlier despite relieving himself twice under the running water. you were driving him insane and you didn’t even know it.

and so, he pulled out his phone, going over to your profile despite the time reading 2am, looking over your cute profile picture with a slight groan. pink banner behind you with your signature bunny ears, smiling so softly as your eyes crinkled up - the epitome of warmth.

he dragged his hand down his face, lids closing for a moment as he took you in from memory alone.

he wasn’t stupid. he was aware of the power balance, the optics, knew how careful he had to be. but knowing all of this didn’t stop the way his chest tightened when he thought about the way you’d laugh so heartily on stream, or how you had tucked your hair behind your ear out of pure shyness.

especially when it was all because of him.

he rolled to his side, looking at your profile once more before finally pressing the dm button, eyes narrowing.

he typed. deleted. typed again. deleted again.

finally:

jeonjungkook: hi

jeonjungkook: thanks for letting me intrude in your live

jeonjungkook: i like watching you so it was nice getting involved

he sent his messages. they delivered instantly. a small part of him felt anxious.

he sat up immediately, eyes widening a little as he noticed you typing, and then stopping, no doubt doing what he was doing earlier. his bare back sat against the headboard, tatted arms flexing.

bunnykiss: hiiii :(

bunnykiss: i was hoping you’d message

bunnykiss: thank you for being so sweet in my chat <33

something warm unfurled in his chest. he smiled softly.

jeonjungkook: couldn’t help it

jeonjungkook: you make it so easy

three dots appeared. disappeared. appeared again.

he imagined you curled up, no doubt in pink pyjamas, curled up in your equally pink bed covers, pulled up all the way to your eyes to hide your hued cheeks. the thought made his jaw tighten.

bunnykiss: you’re kinda intimidating

bunnykiss: but in a good way

he huffed a quiet laugh to himself.

jeonjungkook: yeah?

jeonjungkook: i’ll try not to be. don’t wanna scare you off

bunnykiss: i don’t scare easily, you just made me nervous <33

fuck, he thought. his gaze was growing dark, brain swarming, cock only getting harder at your admission.

jeonjungkook: you don’t need to be

jeonjungkook: promise i’m nicer than i look, baby

a pause

jeonjungkook: especially with people i like

you were genuinely screaming into your pillow, kicking your legs loudly that had yejin groaning over in her room. god, was this real? was this happening? the jeon jungkook flirting in your dms in the middle of the night? whatever you’d done in a past life, you were celebrating now.

bunnykiss: cute. i like that

he smirked to himself, tongue poking his cheek. unfortunately for you, he wasn’t done - he had just gotten started and he planned to toy with you a while.

jeonjungkook: also, i gotta confess something lmao

your typing bubble appeared almost instantly.

bunnykiss: oh?

jeonjungkook: jjk7. that’s me

jeonjungkook: surprise

jeonjungkook: been watching you for months, but had to make an account just so i could tell you how pretty you look every stream. only felt right

you didn’t respond immediately, and jungkook’s heart was stuttering, not in fear or anxiety, but pure, sheer adrenaline.

bunnykiss: oh my god

bunnykiss: no freaking way

bunnykiss: you’re my favourite follower, you’re the one who noticed when i changed my blush!!!

jeonjungkook: mm, hard not to

jeonjungkook: especially when you lean in real close to the camera. fuck.

your pulse kicked in.

bunnykiss: you’re so bold for someone who’s currently exposing himself

jungkook smirked wide.

jeonjungkook: yeah well, like i said, been holding back for months so

you both didn’t speak for a beat, taking each other in. jungkook, shirtless, body flexing under the glow of his phone in nothing more than his pyjama bottoms whilst you were in bed, your matching frilly top and shorts, hair in rollers, squealing away into your pillow. god, you were a match made in heaven and you didn’t even know it.

jeonjungkook: your outfit today was so pretty

bunnykiss: thank u <33333 i loved it too, everything matches

he let out a shaky breath.

jeonjungkook: oh i know. noticed your bra strap, pink too?

jeonjungkook: fuck

jeonjungkook: that nearly took me out when i first saw it. & then when you started leaning closer..

your breath stuttered.

bunnykiss: jungkoooooooook

jeonjungkook: i know i know

jeonjungkook: can’t blame me for bringing it up, baby

jeonjungkook: fucking loved it

you were bright pink, nibbling away at your bottom lip

bunnykiss: you’re trouble

jeonjungkook: probably

jeonjungkook: maybe i need a girl like you to set me straight

your response didn’t come immediately, and jungkook knew he had you right where he wanted you, a small smile forming on his lips

jeonjungkook: but first, go to sleep. been a long night, hm?

jeonjungkook: i’ll speak to you tomorrow

jeonjungkook: and jjk7 will tune in like always

you screamed.

bunnykiss: nighty night <3333

you were a sopping mess in between your legs, with your brain reduced to mush. if only you knew this was just the beginning.

—

it was exactly ten minutes after midnight when you realised you had no more snacks left.

this wouldn’t have been a problem on any other day, but you were about to start your period, and as a result, were experiencing pre-cycle cravings that you truly couldn’t do anything to satiate. yejin was fast asleep, which meant no one could talk you out of how ridiculous the idea of walking to your local corner shop would be at this time of night.

you were in pyjama shorts, too tiny to be deemed appropriate for most settings, legs bare and baby pink hoodie on. you lacked shame, apparently, as you walked out into the night air with no other than bunny slippers on your feet, tucking your hair behind your ear underneath your hood that sat on your head.

the convenience store was 5 minutes away, you’d be fine. you did this more times than you should, anyway.

you had both your wallet and your phone in your hands as you excitedly skipped all the way down, the prospect of grabbing as many things as you wanted simply a joy.

the store was pretty quiet when you walked in, the cashier asleep, meaning the only sounds you could really hear were that of his snoring. the shelves were half stocked, fluorescent lights bright in the sort of way that had you feeling both alert and tired.

you grabbed a basket almost too excitedly, shuffling down the confectionery aisle in glee.

you didn’t notice him at first.

not until you reached for a bag of sweets, and heard-

“cute slippers.”

your hand froze. you slowly turned, eyebrows furrowed.

jungkook leaned against the freezer, only a few feet away, dressed too casually for your racing heart. sweatpants, a hoodie, cap pulled back the other way to hide his too messy hair. he looked like a guy that was ready to break you, limb my limb in the best possible way and you could have moaned at the thought.

“oh..” you breathed. “my god.”

7 billion people in the world and the guy you had been openly flirting with for the past few days, and watching on stream for the past year, lived in the same city as you? so close, that he too was in the same local convenience store as you at the same late hour? you hadn’t believed in fate before, but now, you were certain it was real.

he smiled, as though he could read your thoughts.

“hi, bunny.”

your cheeks flared instantly. a habit, it seemed. “you- what..how are you even..”

“getting snacks?” he hummed. “i ran out of milk.”

his eyes were openly checking you out, raking over your bare legs and the way your shorts weren’t even visible underneath your hoodie. god. he wanted to fucking bite you. you looked so soft, so domesticated - he wondered what you’d feel like if he gently ran his hands all over you, in genuine curiosity.

he looked like trouble.

jungkook was known for many things, but his looks sat at the top of the ladder. seeing him in person floored you because in a strange turn of events, you realised his camera truly didn’t do him justice. his tattoos, his piercings, the way his clothes sat on his body, the ease in his chest and the confidence in his shoulders. so tall, so muscular - fuck. he was everything you’d ever wanted.

you realised you were just blinking up at him with parted lips, making you visibly snap out of it. he had begun to yearn for the pink flush that often appeared on your cheeks, and the sight of it present had him smirking.

“you always look this when you go out this late?” his tone was casual, but the way he was looking at you was anything but.

you shrugged, suddenly shy. “it’s just the shop.”

“dangerous mindset.” he hummed back. your heartbeat began kicking. “why’s that?”

his eyes flickered from your hoodie, to your bare legs, the hem, your lips.

“because someone might see you and get ideas.” he grabbed something from beside your head.

you let out a nervous sort of giggle. “someone like you?”

he stepped closer. not quite invading your space but just enough to make his presence known even further to you, to have your body reacting the way he liked.

“yeah,” he confirmed quietly. “someone just like me.”

the silence stretched, long and charged, leaving you to nibble on your lip, your eyes connecting in a way that had you both nearly breathless.

you cleared your throat, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your. “i didn’t expect to see you here.”

“mm.” he began, your bodies too close to really be deemed friendly. “me neither, but i guess you’ve been under my nose this entire time.”

you couldn’t hide the shy smile that had formed on your face even if you tried, turning around and beginning your browse. he followed, almost like a lost puppy, eyes trailing over your legs, your ass, holding your little basket in his own hands as you piled in snacks.

neither of you spoke, but you were enjoying his company massively. at one point, you were deciding between two different types of chocolate before he simply grabbed them both for you, adding them to his own basket.

by the time you were at the cashier, he looked up in slight awe of jungkook, bumbling over his words. you watched as he graciously thanked him, before paying for both of your baskets without even glancing at you despite your protests. he shoved his phone back in his pocket after paying before grabbing both bags, nodding over to the door.

the cashier peered at you curiously. he couldn’t help but admire you both, and nodded a little to himself - you made for a good match. only a guy like him could get a girl like you.

outside, the night air felt quieter. colder. streetlights stood tall, illuminating the streets whilst you both stepped out, your eyes peering up at him. neither of you wanted to part yet.

“i’ll walk you home.” his voice was soft, warmer than anything you’d heard from him yet, as though he was telling you, as opposed to asking.

you hesitated for less than half a second before nodding, shy. “okay.”

you walked side by side, arms brushing against one another, eliciting a deep burn inside your stomach. his hand twitched like it wanted to reach for yours but he was actively choosing not to, especially considering this was the first time you had face-to-face met him.

“do you dress like this all the time?” he murmured over to you, fingers brushing your own again. “or is this just a tonight thing?”

“you seem very obsessed with my outfit. maybe i just like to be comfortable.” you teased, though tone still quiet from being shy.

“mm.” he didn’t deny it, smile brewing on his face. “you look soft.”

the word wrapped around you, slow and delicate.

“soft?” you reiterated through a slightly shocked voice.

“yeah. real soft.”

he stopped walking just as you did, your building right beside you. you turned to him, his arms lifting so his fingers finally grazed your waist, gently, barely touching whilst his eyes met yours once more.

he gave you time to pull away. you didn’t.

the air between you felt electric.

“jungkook..” you breathed out, exhale shaky.

he did the same, your bodies suddenly closer than either of you noticed, his head sucked down so you could see his face properly. this wasn’t inappropriate, this was intentional.

“tell me to stop.” he whispered.

you shook your head, eyebrows furrowing at the mere thought.

his smile this time felt dangerous, too content and easy for it to be anything other than bliss.

“good,” he murmured. “been thinking about you all night.”

he leaned in - not to kiss you, but so his breath gently tickled your cheek, skin touching skin just barely.

“now, go inside.” he softly said into your ear, pulling back to meet your gaze. “before i forget how to behave.”

your heart felt like it was about to burst. you found yourself nodding, brushing hair behind your ear once more once he passed you your small bag. “goodnight”

“night, bunny.”

he watched as the door closed behind you, only turning around when he knew you were inside and safe. his head churned, his heart fucking leaping in his chest.

you were a problem.

—

you hated being home alone. it left you feeling awfully lonely, especially considering you probably used yejin as somewhat of a crutch, constantly needing to be around someone so your brain wouldn’t wander to things you tried so desperately to ignore.

jungkook had kept you occupied, considering yejin was back home for a few weeks, through facetimes, text messages, even his streams.

he wasn’t a shy man, constantly talking about you on his own time, his audience falling in love with you without even meeting you - you were warmth in a bottle and one look through your profile had them following you in a heartbeat.

your own streams were now much busier than you were used to, and you shyly tried to keep up, but you’d often fail. you had even made a small group chat dedicated to your fanbase, consisting of all of your original followers where you kept them updated about your schedule and random cosy gaming facts.

outside of the internet, the bakery you worked at was thriving, jungkook often coming in just to spend time with you, many instances in which had you flushed red until you actually got home. he had even helped you close a few times, completely disregarding the fact he was one of the most visibly recognisable young men in society.

you were getting closer and closer to him, and with that came a need you’d never experienced before. sure, you had dated before, but nothing was like this - no one made you feel like this.

even now, as you lay on your couch, warm blankets covering you as you napped with only the warm glow of the multiple lamps and candles in the room, did you think of him. you were embarassed to admit you often dreamt of him, his tattoos, his biceps, god - his piercings. you were ruined, made undone by a man who had watched you for months without you ever even knowing.

he was a man who had fallen for you in the shadows of his identity whilst you sat, unaware, secretly admiring him from afar. you were both sickening.

you were pulled from the gentle lull of sleep to a knock on the door, making you groan quietly as you rubbed your eyes, stubbornly sitting up. maybe if you ignored it, it would go away. when the next set of knocks came, you frowned, standing up and prodding your way over until you were opening the door.

jungkook stood there, leaning against the doorframe, a bag of takeout in hand and a lazy grin that only widened when it actually met your gaze.

you stood, slightly in shock, completely disregarding what you actually looked like

small, tiny little white tank, no bra, stretched over your chest with matching pink shorts that also sat way too short to be deemed even semi appropriate. your hair was a mess, but fuck, jungkook couldn’t stop looking you up and down, practically growing harder and harder from the mere sight of you.

the worst thing? the sleep that pulled on your features was the epitome of adorable, the way you tilted your head at him, as though you couldn’t tell whether this was a dream or reality.

“hey.” he gently pulled you from your exhaustion.

“hi-hi! what are you- um, what..” you stuttered over your words, rubbing at your eye and patting down your hair.

“yejin home?” he asked, as though he didn’t already know the answer. “got you food.”

you blinked up at him, stomach growling at both the best and worst time as you began to flush pink. “oh, no..no she won’t be back for another week.”

“cool,” he pulled himself off the doorframe. “can i come in?”

you stepped aside almost immediately, to which he walked in, letting you move ahead of him whilst he closed the door. it took him a solid 5 seconds to stop looking at your ass, only for him to finally take in your shared home.

pinks and creams, soft lighting everywhere, your switch sat on the couch alongside your blankets. it was warmth personified, with greenery sat by the windows and books piled in multiple corners - jungkook was floored for a moment by how you this place was. god, he wanted to die here.

he told you to let him know where things were and sit down as he dished up the chinese takeout, your cheeks flushing pink as you watched him do exactly that.

whilst he plated, you pulled your hair up into a ponytail, making it look sleeker than the birds nest a moment ago, and realigned your clothes, still flushed pink from his surprise arrival.

“you nap like this?” he asked as he brought you your plate alongside a drink.

you nibbled on your lip, thanking him. “um, sometimes.”

his mouth twitched, sitting beside you with his own plate, clothed leg touching your bare one. “dangerous habit.”

you laughed then, breathy, still shy. “you keep saying things like that!”

“you keep giving me reason.” he shrugged back, hiding the smirk on his face through a bite of food.

you both ate, bickering and teasing one another as much as possible, with him leaving you in fits of laughter more times than you could count. after he washed up after you both, despite your complaints, he sat beside you once more.

“no stream today?” he asked. you nibbled on your lip. “oh..i was actually gonna do it soon, just need to throw a t-shirt on, some concealer maybe.”

he sat back, legs spread, whilst his hand itched to sit high on your lap. perhaps elsewhere. “hm, you look so cute. don’t know what i’d do with myself if you were on stream like this.”

you hid your shy smile. “well, i’m right here, aren’t i?”

he grinned wide, letting out a laugh. “yeah you are. but trying to behave remember?”

you looked away, battling a bigger smile as he stood up, pulling you up with him as his fingers took a hold of your own. “c’mon, wanna see how you set up.”

and so you did. you took him to your gaming room, a space you shared with yejin as she had an identical desk on the other side of the room, just out of shot from where your cameras sat. you quickly headed into your bedroom to freshen up, only returning when you were finally ready.

you kept your tiny shorts on, and jungkook groaned quietly at how tight your baby tee sat on your body, wanting to fucking rip it off of you. in the spirit of being good, he chose against it.

“you don’t have to stay if you don’t wanna, i pinky promise it’s fine.” you say lightly, though your voice betrayed you.

“you kidding? miss out on a bunnykiss stream?” he scoffed, taking a seat on your chair before you. “nah, baby. want you sitting right here when you start.”

he patted his lap, making you choke on a breath. “but everyone will see you!”

“yeah? you okay with that?” he tilted his head, smirk too wide to be deemed anything innocent.

you swore you were as red as a tomato at this point, as he gently took a hold of your waist, pulling you in until your ass sat flushed against him. you were sat somewhat awkwardly before he pulled you in properly, your chest against his back and his arms wrapped around your waist.

“wait!” you stopped yourself from hitting the live button. “you need to wear these.”

you twisted in his lap, creating a slight bit of friction that had you both tensing and yet neither of you addressed it, despite the fact there was an elephant in the room. you grabbed your extra headset, clicking it in place before putting it onto jungkook’s head, the bunny ears looking right at home on him.

“perfect.” you smiled bright, leaving him breathless for a moment. “yeah? do i look as pretty as you, bunny?”

you giggled, pulling on your own matching headset before finally pressing the button to start your stream, his breath tickling your neck.

your followers began flooding in immediately. what once was 10 people lives had now become several hundred, something that made you incredibly nervous to begin with but you had learnt to enjoy it now.

“hi guys!” you chirped in your usual friendly tone, offering a little wave. “how are you guys doing? how was your day?”

the chat was rolling in fast. faster than you’d ever seen it. considering you couldn’t see jungkook’s face, but his tatted hand sat firm on your stomach as he pulled you back into him, his bunny ears poking out from behind you.

‘HOLY SHIT?!?!??’

‘Y/NNIEEEE, WHO IS THAT OMG?’

‘guys. is that jeon jungkook’s hand?’

the chat exploded. viewers were coming in rapidly, comments going faster and faster and faster, making you let out a giggle nervously. you leaned back further into jungkook, seeking a little bit of comfort to which he was more than happy to provide.

“yeah..i have a guest. okay! okay! i’ll show you who it is, everyone please be really sweet like you always are.”

jungkook’s lips were grazing your neck openly, as he pressed a faint one just over your pulse before pulling back, making eye contact with the camera, his face suddenly visible. his mouth stretched out to an easy grin, one he typically greeted his own fans with.

“hi guys.” he murmured, making you smile a little to yourself.

the chat detonated.

‘THE BUNNY EARS I CANT’

‘GUYS HE JUST KISSED HER NECK’

‘Y/N UR BLUSHING OMFG’

you were blushing. violently.

“he’s just-“ you giggled. “he’s being supportive.”

“supportive?” his arms around you pulled you tighter against him, adjusting you so you truly were pressed into him in every way. you turned your head to face him, the both of you sharing a lovesick glance. “that’s what we’re calling it?”

you squeaked softly, instinctively grabbing onto his arms. “jungkook!”

“what?” he murmured in faux innocence. “you look comfy.”

you’d never seen a chat move so fast before, your heartbeat quickening with how many people were joining your stream, eyes widening a little. jungkook pressed his fingers into your stomach gently, grounding you, feeling you relax in his arms as you let out a breath.

‘THE WAY HE’S HOLDING HER!!!!!!’

‘ALSHAJEHSJEHAKSH’

you shook your head lightly, smile bright. “okay! we’re playing stardew tonight because i missed my crops yesterday and-“

“tragic.” he whispered into your ear.

you dissolved into giggles. “stop distracting me.”

his thumb pressed into your stomach again, smirk forming on his lips as rested his chin on your shoulder, eyes slightly hooded from the feel of you sat directly on his hardening length. “can’t blame me, bunny.”

you spent the live greeting your followers, thanking subs and playing your game. you often found yourself smiling bright at the sweet messages in the chat, supplemented with the cheekiness of jungkook who was making it a point to attack your neck with as many kisses as he could muster. every touch was sending sparks to your system.

neither of you addressed the way you were both grinding into one another, just hidden away from the camera, building friction slowly but devastatingly.

“guys, what should i upgrade? barn or coop?” you hummed, tilting your head lightly.

answers flooded in, the both of you reading them.

“hm.” jungkook pondered out loud. “coop first - you’re the type to get attached.”

you glanced at him, eyes bright. “that’s true.”

the smile he gave you, as though no one else was watching despite being platformed to hundreds of thousands of people, was down right intimate. it said a million things, as though you’d just given him knowledge he would stash away for a rainy day.

‘jungkook is so whipped ong’

‘YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE TOGETHER!!!!!’

‘wait this is making my heart soooo full’

‘why are you guys moving so much lol’

you stayed on the stream longer than you had initially planned, constantly getting distracted by jungkook’s wandering lips that left you breathless too many times to count, and the harsh movements of his hips. it wasn’t until you said your goodbyes, and you were taking off your headset, did you finally properly turn in his lap to face him.

he grabbed your legs, pulling them to the side of his lap, so you were sat sideways onto him. you both shared a moment of silence, grinning openly at one another before laughing quietly.

“don’t know what i like more.” he breathed in your scent openly. “watching you, or seeing you.”

your cheeks warmed instantly, like your body knew to flush in his presence. “i liked having you here.”

“yeah?” he leaned in, brushing his nose against yours.

“mhm.” you nodded lightly, faces too close at this point, your fingers playing with his t-shirt on his chest.

he lifted your chin, forcing you to finally look at him in the eye, a decision that had you lost for breath. god, his eyes were so dark, so deep - you felt like you could swim in them for hours. if only you knew how deeply he felt the same, continuing to brush your noses against each other.

before you could even comprehend it, he began leaning forward, his lips grazing over yours too faintly to be deemed a kiss. it was the way your eyes fell shut that had him properly pressing his lips against yours, head resting on your own before settling against you.

the both of you moved in unison, lips engaged and savouring each moment as though you’d both waited for this for eons. jungkook, who had watched you for months, a secret admirer, desperate to know you in a way he was sure he could never have despite being a man who had access to everything. you, sweet bunny, who watched him from afar alongside his millions of followers, in awe at both his skill and beauty.

you melted against him, his lips dominant as he guided you, making out quietly against the very chair he had dreamt of you in. you fisted his t-shirt now, pulling him closer if that was even possible whilst his hand grabbed the back of your head, deepening it.

it wasn’t until you were pulling away did jungkook let out an uncharacteristic groan, dropping another kiss to your lips. this one lasted for shorter, considering you were still breathless, though he was anything but patient. he planted pecks all over you, anywhere he could catch you - cheeks, nose, forehead, chin. god, you were everything.

by the time you’d both finally pulled away, you hid your face in the crook of his neck, in a fit of giddy giggles whilst he laughed quietly at your reaction.

you would be the end of him.

—

you closed up the bakery with flour smeared on your cheek and a bruise already forming on your wrist from the amount of times you’d banged it on the counter trying to grab something. it wasn’t that you’d had a bad day, au contraire, but it simply felt longer than usual. you groaned lightly, rolling your shoulders as you pulled down the shutter with a large amount of effort, closing up entirely before turning around.

the bright smile that appeared on your face at the sight of jungkook stood, leaning against his car, was something that had your stomach doubling over in excitement. he looked so good, all shoulders, matching grin on his own face as you all but skipped over to him.

jungkook had straightened once he first saw you, slipping his phone into his pocket as soon as you came into eye line. he was looking you up and down, letting out a quiet hum of appreciation at the sweet little dress you were wearing, pink as usual, hugging you just right. fuck.

“you always look like this at work?” he asked as you walked up towards him. “or am i just getting lucky tonight?”

“shut up, i literally look a mess.” you laughed lightly, pulling your coat around you further.

he scoffed lightly, thumb moving against your cheek and swiping the flour away. a hand slipped around your waist to bring you in, causing you to let out a small gasp as you found yourself pressed against him in seconds.

“missed you, bunny.” he whispered down at you like it was a secret.

you hadn’t seen one another for a few days, and yejin was coming home soon, which meant late nights on your couch would have to lessen considering she’d probably have a heart attack at the sight of him. so, to balance it out, you’d agreed to spend the next few days at his place.

the other night was the first, and it ended up with a heated make out session on nearly every single surface. you could tell he was holding back, not wanting to startle you in anyway, and so he had taken you to bed, and kissed you until you were dizzy before pulling you into his chest. a kiss to the temple and you were out like a light, curled into his bare chest like it was home.

you felt a sort of giddiness at the thought of him all day, feeling excited at the prospect of getting to do it all over again. even now as he leaned in to give you a kiss, you found yourself melting in his arms whilst pulling him down to you. it ended like it always did, a flurry of pecks all over your face before he opened the car door for you, closing it once you were in.

he drove with one hand on your thigh, much higher than anything appropriate but judging from your flushed cheeks and coy little smile, he knew you enjoyed it just as much as he did.

his place was quiet, a penthouse apartment in the nice part of your neighbourhood. it was cosy, though lacking compared to your own place, but that simply egged him on to tease you. he had told you that it ‘simply meant you have to add your touch’, alluding to the fact he wasn’t letting you go any time soon.

“can i please use your shower?” you asked sweetly once you were both inside, the sound of his keys being placed on the counter loud.

“you don’t have to ask, bunny. you got everything you need?” he hummed back at you as you skipped to his bedroom to collect your things. you grabbed one of his t-shirts, not bothering to wear anything else when his clothes carried his scent so well.

you let him know you were all set before heading in and taking your time, letting the water ease all of the day away as you washed your hair and body. knowing he was really only behind that door had heat pooling in between your legs, and if you were braver, you’d relieve yourself then and there but unfortunately, you were much too shy. as a result, you dressed and padded out, still feeling half unsatisfied.

“all your packages arrived.” jungkook mentioned, back to you as he cooked a meal for you both.

you nibbled on your lip, distracted by the expanse of his back and the way it tensed against his t-shirt. you hated how hot he was, how fucked it would have your brain at times like this when all you could think about is how you wanted him inbetween your legs.

you cleared your throat, shaking your head lightly. “i’ll have a look..”

“why don’t you try them on?” he hummed, turning around to face you. his eyes openly looked you up and down, easy smirk forming on his face. “give me a little fashion show.”

you took your plate once he filled it up, raising an eyebrow. “starting to think you had ulterior motives when you told me to just send the packages here.”

“can you blame me?” his grin was too lazy, bumping your hip as you both ate together.

once you were done, you thought you’d entertain his idea, laughing lightly as you pulled the different clothes from each package before skipping over to his bedroom, both of you feeling oddly giddy for a moment.

the first one was a too short dress, something that would work perfectly for a stream with the pretty white lace at the neckline, and the way it curled over your shoulders. you liked how it sat on you, even made you feel quite angelic. you stepped out of the room, your hair sat in a way that made you look effortless, as though the garment was created solely for you.

“this is too short to wear out, but it’s really pretty.” you hummed, playing with the hemline, not realising the way you were lifting it, giving jungkook a clear view of your equally lacy panties. “i’m thinking it would be nice for my streams though, the neckline is nice.”

you peered up, realising he wasn’t saying anything, only to find his jaw clenched tight. he was looking you up and down, running a hand through his hair whilst poking his tongue against his cheek.

you tilted your head. “you don’t like it?”

“i fucking love it.” he scoffed at you, as though he was insulted by your assumption.

he stood from his seat on the couch, towering over you within seconds, long legs reaching you quickly. his fingers brushed over the hem of the dress, grazing your panties boldly.

your breath hitched, your own smaller hands sat on top of his wrists as he traced your skin, purposefully avoiding the one spot you needed him to touch. he leaned down to your ear, hot breath touching your cheek causing you to shudder.

“keep.” he whispered, lips pressing a small kiss to the bottom of your jaw. “show me the others.”

you blinked up at him, wobbly legs carrying you back to his bedroom where you let out a shaky breath, eyes shutting tight as you desperately tried to ignore the pang between your legs.

your next outfit was a two piece set, a cute off the shoulder sweater with a matching skirt - much more modest than your last but so adorable, you were already too excited to show him.

“look at this one!” you excitedly exclaimed as you rushed out. “its pink.”

your smug little voice had him grinning wide as he beckoned you over to where he was sat, making you stand inbetween his legs. “mm, really like this. wanna take you to the fair soon, you should wear this.”

you slid your hands to his shoulder, smile wide on your face. “really? i love the fair!”

he grinned even wider, his chest blooming. fuck.

“cmon, you have more to show me. i cant fawn over you forever.” he teasingly groaned out loud, with a dramatic sigh, pinching your thigh lightly before you bounced your way back.

the next 20 minutes went in the same direction. every time you weren’t sure about something, not liking how it sat on you, he’d groan so loud, hands roaming over you in a way that screamed anything but innocence. he was obsessed with you, loved how cute you were without even trying and it was fucking with him bad.

your last outfit? jungkook was hard. really hard.

tiny shorts, riding up your ass, a cotton pair that had a matching tank, something you’d typically wear for your streams. you walked out to him grunting lightly under his breath at the sight of you.

“i like this.” you whispered, suddenly shy underneath the intensity of his state. “could wear it for tomorrow’s stream?”

“no.” his tone final.

your face completely dropped, and if he wasn’t about to rip it off of you, he would have been on his knees apologising for putting that expression on your face.

“oh..oh okay. you don’t like it? thought it was pretty.” you frowned through your quiet rambles, playing with the hem of the tank, like your tits weren’t all but practically spilling from it.

“you won’t be able to wear it tomorrow.” he corrected, hands dropping to your waist, openly touching you. his fingers were digging into your skin just the way you liked it.

you tilted your head, still shy. “why?”

he leaned down in response, eyes dark. big, beefy arms picked you up with ease, causing you to let out a gasp as your nails dug into his biceps. “what the…?” you yelped.

within seconds, he was dropping you onto his bed, climbing over you and pressing his lips to yours. you were gasping up into his mouth, but he wasn’t giving you time to process, simply feeling your body melt into his covers and accept the attack, a tiny moan leaving you.

his tongue invaded your mouth, exposing, fighting for dominance all the whilst his hands pinned your own, knee inbetween your leg. he wasn’t just being cruel, he was being sinful - you could feel him all over, every inch of him.

your brain was a muddle as he finally pulled back, but only to press his lips to your jaw and throat instead, grunting, hissing, pulling. your cute little outfit didn’t stand a chance against him, as he let go of your hands only to pull against it.

“wear something like this on stream?” he hissed into the sweet spot on your neck, where he was leaving a too large hickey. “you’re driving me fucking insane, y/n.”

you closed your eyes tight, moans filling the room as you arched your back into him, free hands finding home in his hair.

“just constantly pushing me. it’s like you’re trying to ruin me on purpose.” he grunted, pulling away from your neck so he could pull your tank down, watching the way your tits dropped with a too loud groan. “look at you, baby.”

your breathing was irregular, stomach in knots from the need that had been growing for weeks now.

he wasted no time, launching his mouth onto your boobs through licks, sucks, bites. he was leaving marks on every inch of you, bruising you blue and purple as a reminder of who you belonged to, of who really owned every inch of you. you hated how badly you loved it.

“wan’more.” you begged him, whining in the process causing him to hiss once more, as though the sound was enough to undo him there and then.

he pulled away from you once more, chest heaving as he pulled off his t-shirt. his moves were hurried, like the concept of time was fickle, a need burning so deeply in his stomach it rivalled any other emotion he had ever felt in accordance to you.

with your breasts out, and your flimsy tank still on, jungkook grabbed your easily as fickle shorts and yanked them down, hardly giving you a moment of reprise. you couldn’t believe how desperate his actions seemed, as though he had waited too long - a man starved, finally given exactly what he had been craving.

“fuck. look at you, bunny.” he let out a loud whine, head dropping to your stomach for a moment, before raising again, weak eyes meeting your own. “all this for me?”

you nodded, chest equally as fluctuated, as you shyly spread your legs, further revealing the wetness that had been growing from the moment you had left the shower.

jungkook’s head dipped, capturing inbetween your legs before he blew gently against your clit; watching the way you recoiled. he hadn’t the heart to deny you what he wanted equally as bad, and within moments, his mouth latched onto you.

he focused on your clit at first. sucks. licks. kisses. at one point, he was moaning louder than you were, as though you had gifted him with your slick. it wasn’t until he inserted one of his beefy fingers into you did you let out a half squeal, half moan, legs already beginning to shake.

“pussy like this needs to be fucked open on the regular.” he was grunting into you. “needs to be stretched, baby, needs to be worshiped. look how you take me, so tight.”

his rambles were making your brain explode, your smaller hands gripping his hair like it was the only lifeline your body could grasp. you couldn’t get enough, and yet it was too much all at once, your thighs shaking and your body quivering.

“jungkook.” you moaned out loud, causing him to shudder. god, his name on your lips. heaven.

another finger was inserted as your hips lifted, whimpering. “can’t..too much.” you said.

he hissed again, pounding them into you as though your words were only egging him on. “not enough.” he shook his head, cock painfully hard in his bottoms.

he could feel you clenching, could feel you getting closer, and closer, and closer but he wouldn’t give it to you. no, jungkook was all ego and pride first and he wanted, needed, you to cum on his cock first. he’d make up for it, make you cum as many times as you could physically handle for the rest of your life, but today was his. all fucking his.

he pulled away from you, fingers leaving your tight pussy causing you to whine out loud. he couldn’t think, and neither could you, suddenly entranced by his thick, long cock that sprung from his boxers, pumped painfully by too large hands you’d spent too long looking at both on streams and in real life.

“spread your legs.” he huffed, grabbing your thighs and doing it for you anyway. not like he’d make you do anything, not when he was willing to serve your every whim.

your fingers were digging into his forearms as you panted, watching the way he slapped his cock onto your clit. you startled, whimpering as he rubbed his cock up and down, head thrown back.

“wish you knew how long i’ve needed this.” he whispered down at you, capturing your lips once more. “dream of fucking you every single night, bunny. dream about breaking you open every chance i get.”

“want that.” you nodded into his kiss, teary eyes already forming before he’d even pushed in. “think about it all the time too.” you confessed in a small voice, eyes suddenly too scared to meet his gaze, busy staring at the leaking tip smearing pre-cum all over your clit.

“yeah?” he moaned at your words. “think about me, baby? tell me what you think about..”

he pushed into you then, with little warning, your eyes going wide as he pushed, inch after inch after inch. you couldn’t handle it past the first few, never having taken anything so big, but by the time he was fully in, you were shaking in his arms. your legs were quivering in a way that had him biting down on his lip to not cum, the sight ruining him alone.

“cmon. tell jungkook.” he cooed into your ear, body pressed into body, pelvis against pelvis, core to core.

“think..fuck, i-i..think about..this.” you choked out, big eyes opening up to meet his gaze, finally, causing his own breath to flutter away. “yeah? think about me here? all in your tummy?”

his voice felt gentle, soothing, as though he hadn’t just bullied his length into you, stretching you out more than you ever had been, cock tormenting your poor little pussy to make sure it’d never forget the shape.

you nodded, beginning to sniffle as tears lined your waterline. jungkook couldn’t help but think you were a vision.

he began to move, giving you single thrusts, letting you feel him, watching the way your fingers and toes curled. he was taking your breath away with each one, though it was finally satiating an itch that had been tearing you apart for longer than you were ready to admit. it felt like home.

“wanna know what i think about?” he was grunting down at you, head against yours, hissing at the feel of your nails creating marks all over him. arms. back. chest. god, he loved it.

you awarded him with a nod, desperate, yearning to know the way his brain worked.

“you. all the time. always in my fucking head, baby. found you months and months ago..fuck..so tight.” he shut his eyes momentarily. “and i couldn’t get enough. you were mine then, don’t care what anyone says. you’re mine.”

again, you nodded, vigorously. “wanna be yours, kookie.” you said through a teary exhale, teardrops beginning to stain your cheeks. “just wanna be all yours. watch you all the time too.”

your admission had his eyes shutting again, pace quickening as he lifted your hips, cock hitting you right where you needed it the most. “yeah? did your little pussy get wet when you watched me?”

you whimpered at his words, the vulgarity of it - you hated that it was true. that you’d have your fingers deep inside by the end of the night, at the mere thought of the tatted streamer who had no idea you existed. or so you thought.

“cause i pump my cock watching you, bunny.” his head dropped to your neck, kissing down it. “all your cute outfits, always act so innocent, but i know you’re a fucking slut. just needed to ruined, didn’t you?”

“by you.” you quickly agreed, eyes widening at the sound of him calling you a slut, your pussy clenching around him. “yeah, by me.” his lips sucked on the sweet spot he had already marked.

“h-harder.” you begged, voice quiet, eyes shut when you asked.

oh, but that couldn’t do. jungkook nearly fucking snarled in your face at your request, so innocent, dripping in desperation - how could he ever deny the sweetest thing he’d ever laid eyes upon? he’d give it to you hard, make sure you couldn’t walk for days, pussy too sore from the pounding he was giving you and yet he’d fuck you anyway, make you take it until you were crying just the way he liked it.

and so, he quickened his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin as he all but broke you. he wasn’t a nice fucker, he was cruel - and the worst part was that was the only way you wanted to be fucked. wanted to feel him so deep inside of you so the only memory you’d have in that moment would be the very present, split apart on his too large cock.

jungkook coaxed an orgasm out of you. then another. and another. it was until you were on your 5th, sobs raking through your body as you clawed at him, his face, chest and biceps covered and almost bleeding from your attack, did his own orgasm come, once you were entirely, fully, wholeheartedly satisfied.

he came deep inside of you, with a final, devastating thrust, painting your already weakened walls with his cum. he ground his hips into yours, making sure you were taking every drop, his head against yours.

“good girl.” he hissed, panting. “want you round soon. need you to take every drop for me, hm? gonna keep you plugged all the time.”

“want that.” you cried, legs shaking around him as you took, and you took, and you took, poor core milking him dry.

it wasn’t until he was beside you, cock still inside but no longer moving, your body against his did you finally calm, the fog lifting from your brain. you were dizzy with need, finally feeling satisfied in a way you’d really only ever dreamt about.

“there you are. you okay, baby?” he cooed down at you, a pure juxtaposition to the harsh fuck he had just given you.

you nodded, but he nudged your nose with his own, planting kisses to your cheeks, urging you to use your voice. he needed you to say it. needed to know what he gave you per your request was truly what you wanted, what you needed.

“felt so..so good.” you confirmed through a shaky breath, arms desperate around him. you wanted to be in them forever, clinging tightly, and he could feel it.

could feel you silently asking him to stay. to hold you. take you, and not leave - truly remain. he wanted to scream at you as he did exactly that. couldn’t you see?

he was entirely, equivocally yours.

—

you don’t vanish loudly.

yejin was back at home, and your relationship with jungkook was growing rapidly. neither of you had made the next move in outwardly claiming one another as boyfriend or girlfriend, but you didn’t need that - he was more than a fickle title to you anyway. you were utterly obsessed, watching him, engaging with him, talking, fucking, loving, kissing. he was a dream made into reality.

folding your laundry, you noticed your phone ringing beside you, your eyes flickering over to the screen momentarily.

your actions halted.

no caller id?

you hadn’t had one of those in…months. over a year, even, but time was hazy and your brain had patched itself up in hopes of self preservation, only to unravel in this very moment.

you weren’t sure what propelled you to pick up the phone and hold it to your ear, not when tears lined your waterline almost immediately, your shoulders bracing, posture straight - a good little girl who was never quite good enough.

“hi.” you whispered softly into the device, voice quiet, betrayed, confused.

no greeting came from the other line. a pause, instead, both deliberate and intentional, causing your shoulders to tense even further.

“so,” the sound of none other than your mother filled the line. “this is what you’ve chosen for your life?”

your stomach dropped in confirmation of your wildest fear, one half of the entity that was able to cripple you from the inside and out doing exactly that. the worst thing? you had allowed it.

you leaned against your doorframe then, gulping down a thump in your throat. “i’m doing okay. i’m working and i’m-“

“working?” she scoffed, barking out a laugh too cold to be directed to that of offspring. “sitting in front of a screen playing games in front of strangers? dressing up like a whore, pretending to be sweet so they send you money?” you could almost imagine her tongue rolling over her teeth. “pray tell, what part of that is work?”

heat clawed up your face and chest, shame stifling each and every one of your achievements. “it’s not like that.”

“but it is.” she was laughing at you. “you’ve always needed affection, your father knew this. always needed someone to clap for you, it’s humiliating.”

“i’m happy.” you interjected, tears beginning to fall but the lump in your throat began to become painful. “i’ve built something…people like me.”

her laugh was growing louder. crueler.

“they don’t like you.” she says. “they like the act. you behave so nicely for them, but take that away, and what’s left? do you think they’d stay?”

your chest ached. your legs were giving out as you simply listened to her hatred, her pure disdain for her daughter as though you had ever done anything wrong, as though you hadn’t dedicated the past lifetime of yours to her in hopes she’d notice you. in hopes she’d throw you a fucking bone.

your father, no doubt sat alongside your mother, chimed in, only causing another pang to your stomach.

“you’re almost unbearable to watch, always clinging to people. your roommate. that boy.”

your grip tightened on the phone. “jungkook?”

“don’t say his name like he’s something to be proud of,” your mother snapped, venom dripping from her voice. “another person you’re just leaning on. and to think, a small part of me genuinely thought you might be standing on your own for once, but no. you’re incapable.”

something splintered inside of you.

“i’m not leaning on him.” your voice was desperate, broken.

“always need to be saved, don’t you, y/n?” she continued, relentless. “one day he’ll realise that too, they all do. then what will you have left?”

silence stretched.

you waited for the ache to pass, desperate, even when you pressed the red button on the screen, phone slipping from your hands as you could take no more. the air felt colder, your loose clothes suddenly too suffocating, your head a tornado of the same words you’d been told all of your life.

you were unloveable. who would want a girl as broken, as splintered as you?

yejin had found you in the hallway an hour later as she came home from her job, snow littered on her shoulders from the storm outside. one look at you, at the hollowness in your eyes, unspeaking, staring into space and she knew. she fucking knew.

she called your name. once, twice, softly, harsher. it wasn’t until she dragged you to your own bed did you wake from the fog, confused at the gentle plush of your own bedding, tears continuously streaming down your face. she had held you that night, crying with you as you managed to recount the harsh words of your parents in exquisite detail, only for her to refute each and every claim.

she held you the way a mother would hold her babe, to her chest as you curled and sobbed, brain shattered after months of patched up healing, truly believing the hard had gone and went. and yet in a moment you were brought back to it.

as a result, the next few days passed like seconds. you didn’t eat much, usually just staring at the wall or aimlessly at the tv to assure yejin you were present, though she knew you weren’t. she had taken a few days off of work, labelling it as a family emergency, dedicating her time to watching you, heart breaking with each passing moment.

your phone sat somewhere in your room, untouched for days, leaving a myriad of messages from your followers, your group chat consisting of your original fan base and most importantly, jungkook.

they began teasing at first, wondering how you were at aimless parts of his day, but growing increasingly worried as you didn’t respond. he was away on a work trip, his presence needed for an in person streaming event, meaning he had no access to you and yet every waking moment he had free was spent messaging you, calling, texting, leaving voice notes, voice messages.

he had contacted the bakery, desperate to hear anything, only to be told by the manager you were on leave due to a family situation. his eyebrows furrowed. you never discussed your family with him, constantly shutting down the topic whenever he would ask, leading him to believe you had a strained relationship.

it was today, however, the 5th day of silence that gnawed on him. he had come home, suitcase dumped at home before he began the 25 minute walk to your house, despite the snow, making it in 10 due to his rushed pace.

the knock on the door was anything but polite as he all but slammed his fist down, demanding attention. it only lasted a few seconds before the door flew open, revealing yejin who looked up at the tatted man with tired eyes, purple littering her bags.

jungkook stood, snow clinging to his hair, lashes wet, chest rising and falling way too fast. his coat was half zipped, scarf already falling off of his body as he removed it, and hands an angry shade of red from both the freezing cold and the harsh knocking he had just done.

his eyes lifted away from her, peering behind to see any presence of you.

“where is she?” he asks, voice tight. it frayed at the edges, revealing a dangerous mix of fear and watered down anger, knowing whatever had troubled you was grand.

yejin swallowed. “jungkook-“

“please.” he cut her off, with a shake to her head. “she isn’t answering calls, or texts, hasn’t streamed, haven’t heard from her and i know that isn’t like her..she loves..she wouldn’t, okay?” he shook his head. “so, where is she?”

she exhaled slowly, shoulders sagging with the weight of the world before stepping to a side with a shaky inhale.

“come in.”

he did exactly that, eyes darting around the room once more but nothing.

“she didn’t want you to see her like this.” yejin whispered, quiet like the mere thought was enough to make her cry. “but..i think she needs you.”

he nodded immediately, a sense of relief filtering through his body at the thought of him being able to bring you some sort of comfort.

“they called - her parents.” she said through another exhale. “and fuck..they’re so fucking cruel to her, but this time. she was on the floor, jungkook, she was fucked up.”

her lip was quivering, a hand running through her hair almost desperately. his heart pained even looking at her.

“they always hurt her. always.” she wiped her eyes, sniffling lightly. “and she’s not eating, not doing anything. can barely get her to eat anything, she just stares. thinks i don’t notice, she tries to pretend she’s okay, but it’s getting bad and i-i can’t..she needs you.”

jungkook nodded, heart breaking into a million pieces at the thought of his sweet girl in ruins over people who didn’t warrant one second of her time. his hands were shaking, not from the cold or the sudden heat, causing them to spark, but from the sheer anger in his heart.

yejin hesitated for another moment. “she’s in her room.”

that’s all he needed.

he turned on his heel, heading over like a man with one single thing in his mind, a sole purpose.

he didn’t bother to knock, he wasn’t the type, too used to grabbing things with both hands to warrant a hesitation.

the room was dim, curtains pulled despite it only being early afternoon, with the faintest hint of his cologne in the air. he noticed you immediately, curled in a big blanket, pink to match your cheeks, donned in a t-shirt he knew belonged to him.

the sight hit him like a punch to his stomach. you looked frail, quiet, silent - fragile.

“baby..” he whispered before he could stop himself, chest heaving with a shaky exhale.

your lashes fluttered. the sound of his voice lulling you out of your vegetative state for a moment, looking up to the doorway only to see the object of your very desires stalking over to you.

his mere presence brought you comfort, your lip quivering as he sauntered your way, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into his arms like you were the only thing worth living for in the entirety of the world. one hand remained around you, another pressed against the back of your head as he breathed in and out. deeply.

“i’m here, i’m here.” he chanted against you as your weakened arms wrapped around him too, little hiccups replacing the sobs your body had been raking not even 5 minutes ago. he was healing.

“i ruin everything.” you choked out to him, face hidden away in his chest.

“no. don’t you fucking dare.” he hissed with a shake of his head, cradling your face in his too large hands. “my girl. look at me, you are everything.”

you squeeze your eyes shut, unable to look him in the eye.

instead, he climbed into your bed, pulling off his coat, hoodie and tee so he was bare chested, grabbing you carefully and placing you on top of him. he wrapped you in your blankets tight, cradling you, desperate for you to feel the warmth radiating off of his body. it was all for you.

“i’m here, and i’m staying here, you hear me bunny?” he promised you, kissing your head over and over. “because you’re my girl, and i won’t let anyone make you think you’re less than what you are. not you. anyone but you.”

you cried into jungkook’s chest that day, sobs raking over every inch of your body in a way he had never anticipated you were even capable of. he watched you break into tiny little pieces, porcelain china falling into small parts and yet you were unaware that he was picking each one up. he held you like a man with a mission - like a man who held your heart as though it was the most precious thing he’d ever owned.

you held him like he was ought to disappear any moment now, and yet he remained. and for the first time in days, the ache began to lift. you were finally able to breathe.

you were empty, and yet warm.

—

your laughter echoed the walls of your living room loudly.

not the careful, or restrained kind. not the awkward, half practised sound you had learned to make when you were younger that had carried you into adulthood. no, not at all. this was free, breathy, the type you couldn’t catch even if you wanted to.

“jungkook.” you whined, through your laughter, shaking your head. “stop bringing it up!”

“chat, do you think we should stop bringing it up?” he asked his stream of nearly a million viewers, as you sat on his lap, whilst he walked you through a horror game, the both of you donning matching controllers.

his arms were loose around your waist, your giggles music to his ears as you shook your head. “guys! this is so unfair, the controller slipped!“

“slipped.” he scoffed, leaning into you further, causing you to look right at him. “bunny, you dropped it. again. if the games too scary, we can do something else.”

“no.” you huffed, laughter finally dying down. his chat were going insane, absolutely in love with the shared streams you had been doing lately. “my hands are smaller, okay? not my fault you have huge, giant fingers.”

jungkook’s smirk was wide as he looked at the chat, some of them already reading the filth in his mind before he could outwardly say it. you caught his stare, catching onto his thoughts causing you to slap his knee lightly.

“they’re clumsy.” he corrected you, putting his controller down for a moment to dwarf over your own hands with his own, leading you through the game. “they’re also very cute. dangerous.”

you squeaked, your giggles returning as you turned pink, shyly shuffling in his lap, further grinding against the hard on he had been sporting for the last half an hour. luckily for him, your bare ass hidden by your cute little skirt was also hiding that for him.

“guys, he’s being cheeky again.” you teasingly booped his nose with your own before settling deeper against his chest, causing him to plant a small kiss beneath your ear. “can you blame me? she’s killing me here.”

the chat was going insane. this was usual routine by now; with the internet claiming you both to be the cutest couple online. videos had been made tracking the timeline of your relationship, with the infamous clip of him joining your live, and people realising that jjk7 was infact jungkook too.

you both played for the next hour and a half, laughing as you read the chat, flirting openly with one another, with you cowering into his chest every time a jump scare showed up, and a whine leaving your lips in embarrassment after.

“okay, okay. gonna stop the live here, my girl is scared, and she gets nightmares.” his voice was teasing, making you flush.

months of being together and you still got giddy over being called his.

once you had said your goodbyes, you settled back into his arms, just as he put the controller down. he grabbed onto your legs, swinging them to a side so you could wrap your own arms around his neck, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.

“you okay, baby?”

you nodded immediately. “yep!”

and you meant it. no hesitation. no checking your chest for unopened cracks waiting to be revealed.

just a happy, genuine, yep.

he smiled in response, pressing kisses into your face further, groaning lightly as you moved against his crotch once more. the knowing glint in his eye and the way his hands began to wander had you giggling, knowing what was about to come.

you felt soft. happy. you.

and for once, being you felt enough.

—

being an office worker was the bane of your existence. despite feeling like a walking, misogynistic trope straight out of a film, it was unfortunately a truth to your life. you would wake up early, put on your makeup and pretty skirt, heels high and hair do only to be disregarded and dismissed with every opportunity.

you were better than everyone on that team. you knew it, they knew it - but being the only woman meant they weren’t willing to acknowledge it. you would work long hours, often overtime as your colleagues would shamelessly pile their documents on your desk, only to come home exhausted and upset.

that was the first time you saw him. the man across the street.

a day like every other, returning home with pained feet and tear streaked skin. they had been particularly rude to you, with you returning home two hours later than expected as they all went out to celebrate their new branch opening. you were quiet, to an unspeakable fault, but why did they have to take advantage of it? you wanted to be noticed, you wanted someone to see you for once beyond it all.

you entered your room, blinds drawn as quiet sniffles filled the silence. the only perk was the incredible pay, which allowed for such a beautiful apartment overlooking the city.

jungkook, across the road, was in a similar predicament. he, too, felt overworked and exhausted. with the recent merger at his company undergoing, his business had doubled overnight. suddenly, the weight and expectations of what felt like the world now rested upon his shoulders.

with an apartment that felt too cold to bare at times; he trudged to his room, sighing loudly as tattooed hands ran over his face. he didn’t know what he needed, simply knew that he needed it badly, finding himself perching on the seat that faced his window. the blinds were drawn and he exhaled again, eyes flickering over the skyline unimpressed before they fell onto something much more interesting. you.

his eyebrows furrowed. people usually kept their bedroom blinds closed, although he felt his brain contradict as he too sat before an open window. his brain silenced within seconds once his eyes set on your face.

you were crying, yes, but your lips were puffy. cheeks full and eyes screwed shut as you pulled pins out of your up do, heels scattered around the room and chest heaving. he watched you, almost comically, fall onto your bed whilst sniffling. he couldn’t hear you and yet he swore his heart was beating so loud that had he strained enough, he would hear small little whimpers. he couldn’t look away.

he was insane, he was genuinely insane. what was this sickening feeling gripping his brain? he felt like a pubescent boy looking at a woman for the first time, but these emotions were beyond him. the mere sight of you was overheating his body, and he was alarmed to say the least. he screwed his eyes shut before opening them again, but you remained in your position and as did he. he began loosening his tie, and before he could think any further, he began slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

after a few more minutes, you rose. slow puffs of air left you as you regained some composure, sniffling whilst wiping the black mascara from your cheeks. you looked a mess, a juxtaposition to the effort you put in every single morning.

you found yourself sauntering around your room, picking up a set of pyjamas and slowly readying yourself to have a shower. you picked up one heel, walking to the other which sat next to the window, raising your back to stand up straight with it in your hand when you finally saw.

jungkook.

he stood. watching. eyes wide, not in embarrassment of being caught, but an almost childlike curiosity. you flinched, slightly, in shock that someone was so openly watching you.

your first instinct was to cower, to shut the blinds and move away immediately. you, however, did not.

you found yourself stood there. unmoving. gaze connected to the doe eyed man, observing him as he observed you. it was odd, to be so open with a stranger. it fought against every moral and social understanding you both undoubtedly shared.

you roamed over every inch of him, lips parted and nose still sniffling. black, thick hair styled messily on his head - he had been running his hands through it, that much was clear to you considering the way it stuck at one side. his lips parted and bitten red, his nose scrunched slightly and his eyes. his eyes wide and curious, understanding and confused all at once.

jungkook stared at you, too, your appearance mimicking his. for a woman who had been crying so helplessly moments ago, he truly had been rooted to his spot at the mere sight of you. what was happening, what was he feeling and why was it gripping the ridges of his brain like a vice?

after what felt like eons of merely staring at each other, both unmoving, he made the first move. he had loosened his tie earlier and it now sat pooled at his feet. he moved, slowly unbuttoning his shirt further whilst staring at you.

it was then you noticed the look of exhaustion on his face, the way his chest heaved in what could only be a deep sigh. milky skin revealed to you as he perched, thighs resting wide and shoulders slouched, arms resting on the chair. your move, he wanted to say.

your insides were burning. was this really happening? a greek adonis with his shirt half opened, legs wide, slouched in his seat watching you?

your fingers fumbled with your own outfit, your silk blouse untucked from the tight pencil skirt and beginning to unbutton. jungkook watched as the material slowly fell from your body, his mouth watering and eyes narrowing.

your hair followed, the final pins releasing perfectly blown out hair that sat perched on your chest, reddened eyes sparkling as they modestly hid you away from his prying eyes. you laid on your bed that faced him, arms under your face, all pencil skirt and sheer tights.

you both spent hours looking at one another that night, not a single word spared, but a cocktail mix of tension, passion and comfort shared. a man you had never met, the stranger from across the street, your neighbour in the sister building to your own - why did he feel safe?

jungkook watched as you slowly fell into sleep, makeup still smeared on your face and your body still partially hidden away from his eyes. in the span of a single night, you had stolen something deep inside of him with no intention of its return. in a single night, you became his, but more importantly - he had become yours.

—————

this little scenario continued on for months, first happening every now and then before becoming frequent. now, you found yourself unable to sleep at night without your eyes locked on the bambi eyed man from across the street.

always scantily dressed, the two of you would perch after work, weekends, and holidays. he in his chair, you resting on your bed. you would wake up, and he would no longer be there, but the warmth between your legs would serve as a reminder of his presence.

you couldn’t tell anyone, not your friends nor the very few coworkers you enjoyed. no one would understand, no one would encourage such behaviour, they’d call you insane or a creep. they’d call him worse, you were sure but you didn’t care. he was yours, in a weird way. he belonged to you. you belonged to him too.

jungkook, too, was fairing no different. he found himself working harder at work; pushing himself to the point of exhaustion just so he would finish and come home at the same time as you. weeks of deduction had confirmed to him that you finished work, usually, at 8 - awfully late for an office job, but as a CEO, he often worked longer hours. his employees were in awe at how much work he took on, but none could be privy to the dirty secret as to why.

he would sit in his chair, trousers hung low on his waist with his tie and shirt discarded, hands running through his hair as he simply watched you. he yearned to know your name, what you sounded like, would you be comfortable cm’s apart from him or would you cower shyly the way you did at the beginning? he was enamoured.

for the first time in years, he felt genuine comfort. it was ridiculous and made no sense, to the extent in which he knew this would damage both his reputation and career had anyone found out. you were his little secret, and he yours - he couldn’t help wanting more.

you both had reached a fever pitch, you couldn’t return to what once was. you had each other now, and even though this was only the beginning, it was a fact understood between you that this could not end.

————

“enough. you’re always holed up in that apartment, you’re young and you’re sexy - it’s time you let the world see it too.” your friend, yejin, grumbled whilst pulling things out of your wardrobe.

you huffed, dressed in your pretty underwear and silk robe. the blinds were closed today. you couldn’t bring yourself to open them whilst you had company.

“i want to stay at home and relax. that fucking job stresses me out enough, i don’t want to get drunk and then spend sunday healing.”

she rolled her eyes. “too bad. you’re wearing this.”

you felt the dress fall onto your stomach, looking down at it with a sigh.

“seriously, y/n. i’m worried about you, okay?” yejin sighed, turning around to properly face you before sitting next to you on the bed. “they treat you horribly and then you hole up inside, you haven’t come out in months.”

“i’m fine.” you shook your head. how do you explain that your pretty neighbour from down the street ogles at you for hours and it relieves your body of every inch of stress? not quite as easy as one would think.

she groaned, loudly before grabbing your arms lovingly. “for me. please.”

she had such a way about her that you simply couldn’t say no. you match her groan before walking into your bathroom, getting ready just as she wished.

one hour of getting ready and another pregaming, you were finally ready to go. a few of your other friends were joining, all bouncing around your apartment with various drinks as you waited on your ubers.

you found yourself shimmying in, already slightly tipsy with giggles in a too short dress and heels that were much too high. you cramped against the window, letting the breeze hit you as you rest your head on the car door, the car beginning to move.

as the driver drove down your street, you noticed a car approaching on the opposite side of small driveway that separated the two apartment complexes. your brain was hazy as you watched sleek black metal slide by, your eyes peering to the driver.

your breath hitched.

eye contact, no longer than a few seconds but enough to cement a drumming in both your chest and between your legs. jungkook driving by slowly, his eyes trailing over your features up close, drinking every curve and ridge as though his life depended on it.

you couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, the moment passing by before you could really do anything, two cars going in opposite directions; but he was all you could think about. all you wanted. fuck.

the rest of the night was spent nursing drinks, dancing and resting, eyes shut and open wide, doing everything you could possibly do to rid the image of his lip ring. seeing it up close allowed it to catch the light, and you could have sworn he looked like every sin personified.

you felt stupid, as you stood at the bar whilst your friends danced. your back to them as you swirled your straw in your drink, your brain only growing hazier by the second with the thought of him. he had this effect on you, but did he even care? maybe you really were insane, acting so needy over a man whose name you had never even heard - a man who may potentially not want you the way you yearned for him.

shame trickled into your spine as realisation hit you like a truck, a bucket of ice trickling down every inch of you. what were you doing? you wanted to go home, you wanted to close the blinds. he didn’t want you. of course he didn’t, if he had; he would have found his way to you. hazy mind and dizzy brain, you turned around, mood suddenly sour, wanting nothing more than to just leave.

you faced a black shirt.

your eyebrows furrowed at the sight. broad chest and wide shoulders, clad in a black shirt messily tucked into trouser slacks. a suit that looked much too expensive for the club you were currently in, with hands caging you into the bar on either side. those tattoos, so familiar - they felt like home.

your breath hitched as you found yourself wetting your lips, shifting from foot to foot, slowly allowing your eyes to shift upwards. chest to neck. neck to jaw. jaw to lips. lips to doe eyes.

for a moment, silence.

jungkook exhaled deeply, his chest constructing against his shirt as he caged you closer to the bar, finding himself pushing you back into it with each and every step he took towards you. seeing you in that uber, for no more than a few seconds, had drove him insane. he found his brain short circuiting, his mouth parted and his cock thrumming. his, pretty girl, all dressed up before his very eyes.

your friends in the uber were chatting loudly, and he had heard momentarily the end of a sentence, something to do with flonk, a word jungkook registered as the name of hobi’s new club. he had been begging him to come check it out for weeks now, but how could he give up a night of you in the name of too loud music and drinks? though you did not share the same sentiments, he couldn’t help but turn the car around and finally take his close friend on the offer.

he had watched you, like he was accustomed to, from the privacy of his private table alongside his 6 friends. they sat upstairs, overseeing the club, though his eyes remained on you. unable to join conversation, he watched as you danced, lips parted and hands around your various friends. you seemed dazed, mind far away and confused. you needed home, he understood. you needed him, dark eyes staring you down and giving you the comfort you so desperately craved in order to relax.

he watched as you separated from your group, turned towards the bar. he watched as your eyebrows furrowed and a look of shame washed over you and it chilled him to the bone. he found his feet walking towards you, and his hands reaching towards the metal surrounding your body before he could stop himself. he had enough of watching. it was time to act.

you stared up at him, mouth slightly agape and breath hitching. he found himself stepping even closer, your bodies beginning to press against one another.

“fuck.” he whispered, so quietly he wasn’t sure he had even said it. you heard.

the haziness grew stronger, your eyes drooping in a sense of comfort but your body contorting in pure fire. you could feel him against you, your heart beating loudly and your core pulsating.

“you were just gonna leave me, baby?” he found himself asking, his head pressing against yours. “would have waited for you. would have waited all night.”

you found yourself whimpering, almost pathetically as you pressed further into him, your hands sliding to his chest.

“w-wanted to come home.” you closed your eyes.

“yeah? come home to me? can’t sleep without me, hm?”

his words were sin. you didn’t even know each other’s names but you were both enamoured. breathing each other in as though you were parched and finally sipping water. his arms moved from the bar to around your waist, pulling you in until you were now fully pressed entirely into him.

he nudged your nose with his own. “what are you doing to me?”

you opened your eyes, breaths mingling from how close you were. what was he doing to you?

“my head…i can’t think.” you whined, so overwhelmed with hands slowly trailing upwards. you wanted to run your hands through his hair.

he was here, finally here and you couldn’t stop yourself.

jungkook groaned once one of your delicate fingers finally sought refuge in his head, his mouth slowly trailing downwards to your neck. he began placing pepper kisses, slight and airy as though he was hardly there, breathing in your scent like you were his personal brand of heroin.

“don’t need to think, baby. i’m here.” he promised.

you nodded. you didn’t want to.

you both remained clutched onto one another, too close to be deemed strangers and yet, really, that was what you were.

the slick between your legs was growing with every second, slow whines leaving your lips as jungkook pressed kisses on your neck. harsher with each kiss, a promise etched into each one.

he was no better. he had already fisted his cock to the thought of you this morning, and now with the tangible feeling of you in his arms, his body pulsated without warning.

“i don’t even know your name.” you exhaled, half moan, half sigh.

“jungkook.” he whispered against your neck through kisses, seeking your sweet spot. “what’s your name, baby?”

“y/n.”

he closed his eyes, groaning quietly. “even your name tastes sweet.”

had you known his voice sounded like this, or his touch, or his mouth - god, you wouldn’t have stayed away. you would have broke glass, and closed the distance in any way possible. how could you ever get enough.

you gripped his hair slightly, pushing him up enough to look at you. “i w-want you.” you admitted, suddenly riddled with the remaining anxiety from earlier.

“i was yours from that first night, y/n.” he stared, fingers raising your chin. “my brain doesn’t fucking work unless it’s occupied with you, can’t work, can’t sleep. can’t rest till i see you sleeping nice and safe.”

his words left you a whimpering mess. he wanted you just as much as you wanted him, and that was a sickening revelation. were you both as insane as each other? enabling the no doubt disturbing nature of your relationship?

“you make me feel so good, jungkook.” you murmured, brain hazy with want. “make me feel safe.”

“good baby. that’s what i want. you’re mine, and i’m yours. gonna make sure you feel like that, always.”

“please.” you nodded.

you had an adamant rule that you weren’t allowed to have favourites, as it went against every moral code in your heart, but you simply couldn’t help yourself. little arin was perhaps the cutest little four year old you had ever come across, with manners, big sparkling eyes and an even lovelier disposition. you heart practically sang whenever she raised her hand to answer a question, or when you’d see her jumping around so cutely.

tonight was parents evening, and you knew you had a long stretch ahead, with some parents being more difficult to handle than others. you were often blamed for tiny things, and though that was just the life of a teacher, it still stung when you knew you gave it your absolute all. regardless, you put on a brave face as you set up your station in the large hall, watching other teachers do the same.

“you sorted?” your best friend, and colleague, yejin asked beside you, stacks of books propped on her hip as she approached your desk.

looking up, you gave her a grin. “yeah, even put sweets out this year. hope that means everyone’ll be nice this time.”

“i still stand by the fact anyone that can be mean to you is a psychopath.” she scoffed with a shake of her head, pushing a strand away from your face. “you got a big line up?”

“yeah, all the parents are coming. arin’s can’t make it, but i think they said her uncle will be attending instead.” you hummed, propping a sweet in your mouth.

she hummed too, putting her books down at the station beside yours. “lucky. i’ve had three drop outs already. can’t wait for them to get annoyed in two weeks because they feel misinformed on their child’s education.”

you laughed, shaking your head at her typically snarky behaviour.

the next few minutes were dedicated to making sure each of you tables were organised, so that parents could come to you during their allocated slots. yours, of course, stood out from the others, with a meticulous level of care going into all of your decorations. your kids loved coming with their parents for that sole reason, and you found that any tension from the adults were always lessened at the sight of effort being put in.

student books were organised alphabetically so they could have a look through, with examples of some of the work you had been teaching. colourful, phonics flashcards sat bundled in ribbon, with the children’s latest paintings all hung up behind and in front of you.

time began to trickle on rather quickly, with parents coming in and leaving, most polite, asking all of the right questions, but of course some left snide remarks. always something along the lines of their badly behaved children deserved better treatment, or that they wanted more attention, despite you doing every possible thing to do exactly that already.

by the time the night was winding down, you grimaced, looking at the time. it was late, with most teachers having finished up, but you still had one little student left. you reached for her file, heart already fond at the sight of her name.

“your little shadow’s next.” yejin teased quietly to you, packing up her own things.

you smiled with a shake of your head, not looking up as you prepared for your final appointment, crossing something out. you were told two weeks in advance that arin’s parents couldn’t attend, due to some family matter out of town, meaning her uncle would take their place. you couldn’t remember his name for the life of you, jaemin? juyeon? junghwan?

you were pulled from your thoughts as a small shadow loomed over your desk, your eyes peering up to meet large orbs adorned with the shyest of smiles.

“hi miss.” she waved, cheeks already red, cute hair pulled into pigtails similarly to how she always wore it.

“hello sweetheart. your dress looks so pretty!” you cooed, giving her a small high five to which she excitedly jumped to reach, causing you to smile. “mm.. uncle kook bought it yesterday for me.”

“that was so nice of him!” you nodded along, and as she turned in circles to show you properly, another looming shadow appeared.

this time, it completely engulfed you, with the scent of pine and musk hitting your nose almost instantly. your brain took a moment to catch up as it breathed in the intoxicating smell, your own large eyes peering up to meet those who you assumed was arin’s uncle.

oh.

oh.

whatever you had expected..this? this was not it.

dark hair, darker eyes, milky skin with piercings adorning his features, tattoos pouring down his arm as his t-shirt sat comfortably on his body. despite it being oversized, it did nothing to hide the pure size of him - shoulders broader than you had ever seen on anyone, chest puffed, height towering over you with ease.

a nasty part of your brain that you kept hidden away wondered what it would feel like to be between his biceps as he pushed tight.

worst of all, it looked like he was examining you too. you wished you could say he was doing it in a polite way, but with the way his eyebrows were pulled tight, his lips parted, his eyes trailing up and down you slowly, as though he was hungry..there was no civility in the way he devoured you.

you were polar opposites.

you, in your sweet cardigan and flowery skirt, hair tucked behind your ears and glasses pushed up your nose - you were picture perfect, exactly as his niece had described.

when jungkook’s sister had asked him to look after arin whilst her and her husband went to visit her in laws, he was more than happy to do so, loving her more than words. what he hadn’t realised was how excited she’d be to go to school every morning, with minute long rambles about the pretty teacher with the even prettier smile who wore cute dresses and made her hair all nice.

it was hard for his intrigue not to build after a while, especially once she had come one day almost screaming about how badly she wanted a strawberry dress because you too had worn one that day. he had taken her out immediately, closing his tattoo shop, and got to work, scouring every shop until he had managed to score one - to which she demanded she’d get to wear it for parents evening to properly show you.

seeing you now, all doe eyed and heart lipped, jungkook realised you were everything she had described and so much more. oh, you were sweet alright, the seconds long interaction with arin proved enough, but the decorations around you, your outfit, your demeanour, your voice. god, your voice.

you were a fucking problem.

for a moment, neither of you spoke, which in any other circumstance would have been entirely awkward, and yet you both stayed slightly rooted. somehow you both needed those beats of silence to really absorb one another, as though you were both slightly reeling from shock.

a scrape of a chair somewhere in the hall brought you back to life.

“oh..” you pushed your glasses up your nose, cheeks heating as you realised you had been staring. your brain failed to recognise he was still doing so. “i’m sorry..you must be..?”

he nearly grunted at the sound of your voice directed at him, liking it too much already.

“jungkook.”

you wanted to shudder, feeling almost humiliated by the reaction you were having to him. you peered down, watching as he extended his hand almost instantly towards you.

with a slightly shaking touch, your hands connected, his fingers swallowing your own whole. your limb was hidden within his in an almost comical way, your eyes connecting once more as sparks fluttered all over you over a mere touch. you felt like a school girl.

warm, calloused fingers, adorned with tattooes, caressed your own slightly, so gently you wondered whether you were imagining it, although it lasted so briefly. he didn’t let go until it began to border on confusion, slowly dropping your hand just as you spoke.

“miss y/l/n.” you managed.

“i know.” he responded almost immediately.

you didn’t catch the way his hand flexed beside him, still relishing your touch.

of course he knew. he was a man, after all, and after the first few times his niece proclaimed her love for her pretty teacher, his curiosity grew a million. seeing you now, it was very quickly making sense.

it was just something about you. you were lodging under his skin.

arin, oblivious to you both, tugged on his sleeve for his attention, pushing him towards the seats in front of the desk.

something in your chest bloomed at the sight of him so obedient to her, as he immediately listened, sitting down in the much smaller chair. it was endearing to see such an intimidating man folding for her with ease, and even sweeter watching her climb up onto his lap before he had even settled.

his arms caged her in protectively before looking up at you, the two making an adorable duo, something that had your heart utterly melting. she clearly adored her uncle, and he too was enamoured by her.

“well,” you said, forcing yourself back to reality, sitting down and reaching for her work folder. “shall we talk about this little one?”

“please.”

he leaned forward slightly, the change in position causing a small flush on your cheeks. his scent was intense.

“she’s doing beautifully.” you pulled out her phonetic workbook. “especially in reading, she’s picking things up quickly and really showing signs of independence. she’s choosing the books she wants to read, and they’re varying in difficulty which is always great to see.”

arin shyly hid her face in his chest, a sight so adorable you wanted to scream.

you smiled. “why don’t you tell your uncle what word you read all by yourself today?”

a pause. then, quietly..

“caterpillar.”

your smile only grew as you clapped your hands lightly, so pleased with her progress. “yes!”

her smile matched yours before peering up almost excitedly to gage his reaction.

“you didn’t tell me that, bug.”

jungkook was leaning down at her, face so soft, so unguarded, that it was hard to forget he had been looking at you non stop for the past several minutes, as though he was imagining every single possible sin.

“forgot.” she hummed back at him, causing him to laugh quietly, planting a kiss to her nose before murmuring something about how proud he was.

your stomach did something silky at the sound.

god, were you ovulating?

you leaned back, ignoring the flush in your cheeks and the shake of your fingers, pulling out work sheets, early writing, drawings she had made, even the class project she had contributed with. you were surprised at how eager he was, asking questions with genuine care, all whilst arin played with his hands, cuddling into him casually.

“she’s struggling to speak up in groups?” he grunted a little. “only a little, at the beginning. she warms up quickly, but she’s quite hesitant at first.” you nodded.

“is that a bad thing?” he asked quietly, as a means to not let her hear in case it was.

to that, you shook your head immediately. “no, not at all. some children just like to listen first, it’s quite natural. they like to assess before they leap in, it’s a safety thing.”

his eyes met yours once more at that, his lips pursing. “safe.” he repeated.

he tasted the word as though it had kept out of your own mouth and into his own, as though he could savour you with a single 4 letter combination. the way he assessed you then almost made you feel self conscious, as you watched his eyes trickle down from your own, to your lips, your neck, your chest, before trailing all the way back up.

your pulse skipped. your fingers were really restless now.

“her favourite lesson is art by far. her drawings are so sweet, she often takes them home for her parents. she’s working on a big project right now, with some of the older children, for the school library.”

“doing a butterfly, uncle koo.” she murmured, leaping at the opportunity to tell him. “it’s blue and pink.”

“yeah?” he hummed down at her, brushing her hair away from her face. “bet yours is the best one.”

to that she giggled loudly, as though he had said the funniest thing on the planet, a small but sure smirk forming on his face at her reaction. you smiled yourself, finding the two sweeter than most.

“she loves butterflies.” you added softly, as you took out some more drawings. “she tends to go out near the bushes during free play, or she’s near the nature corner trying to rescue something.”

jungkook was fucking enamoured by you. your small little smile, the way your lips pulled back to reveal such sweetness. a guy like him didn’t feel like this - this was odd. unheard of. confusing.

“rescue something?” his eyebrows raised.

“worms, mostly.”

his mouth twitched. “sounds like her.”

arin looked up with a small pout, still playing with one of his silver rings. “one was hurt.”

“i know bug, you told me.” he assured.

“she asked to put it into a shoebox. she brought leaves, twigs, made little breathing holes.”

this earned you a larger smile on his face as he let out a soft laugh, something that nearly had your breath taken away. he completely transformed, as though it was the loveliest thing he had ever heard.

“yeah? did it survive?” there was a teasing tilt to his tone.

“for three lovely days. you held a funeral for mr worm, didn’t you arin?” you hummed lightly down at her, to which she nodded immediately, jungkook closing his eyes momentarily as a huff of amusement left him.

you couldn’t help but watch him almost eagerly as he again, murmured something down at her, to which she smiled bashfully. he was all hard edges, tattooed and pierced, and yet he was putty for his adorable niece.

“she’s sensitive, definitely, which isn’t a bad thing whatsoever but it does mean socially she’s still catching up.” you softly proceeded, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. jungkook watched it. “she’s made some lovely friendships this year, and they’re really solidifying.”

“yeah, she keeps mentioning a yuna..”

you brightened. “yes! they’re really inseparable at the minutes it’s so, so cute!”

“she also tells me she likes when you read stories.” he added.

you blinked at him softly, tilting your head with a slight hum of confusion.

“said something about different voices. she keeps asking me to read her sleeping beauty.”

you let out a soft laugh at that, shaking your head. “some of the girls have been coming in during their play time and asking to be read a book. they’re on a princess kick at the moment.”

to that, he huffed in amusement once more. “yeah, she keeps telling me to get out. something about her prince charming will wake her up.”

“he will.” she grumbled a little quietly in his arms, to which you smiled widely.

“i’m happy you like them.” you redirected, happy that your students were enjoying reading enough to enact it at home.

“curious about these different voices.” jungkook interested, eyebrow raised. “show me.”

“show..you?”

“what, that bad?”

you laughed, unable to hold it in. “dreadful.”

“now i really need to see.” he couldn’t help the mischievous glint in his eyes, still too busy being enamoured by you to stop staring so openly.

“i’m not doing voices at parents evening.” you continued to laugh, shaking your head, but the pink glow on your cheeks gave you away.

“a shame. i’ll be thinking about it tonight.” he murmured casually, as though he wasn’t openly telling you that you’d be on his mind.

your stomach flipped.

before you could even conjure up a response, arin suddenly tugged a folded piece of paper your way, almost buzzing with excitement as she peered up at her uncle momentarily too.

“look, miss!”

you smiled automatically at her, unfolding it with a quiet “what’s this?”, stretching out the paper to see.

and immediately, you froze.

a drawing, one of her many cute ones of course. the sun in the corner a stark yellow, the green of the grass at the bottom alongside the lovely house in the background. in the middle of the paper stood arin, in her cute dress and pigtails, both of her parents by either side, with a large love heart above their heads. what had you shaken, however, were the two figures to the side, also holding hands, one that resembled her uncle a little too well, and the other? one look and you knew that was you.

above you both sat an even bigger red heart.

you couldn’t have even played the plausible deniability card, considering both figured were labelled with a terrible scrawl of “miss” and “koo”, further causing you to inhale sharply.

“arin..” you choked out.

she simply ignored your state, pointing and labelling everything. “this is mummy and daddy and that’s me, and that’s our house and this is you miss, and this is uncle koo and we all live together.” she rambled.

your eyes were widening as you made the mistake of looking up directly to jungkook, unsure of what to say or do. he, however, seemed absolutely enamoured by the picture, focusing directly on the both of you.

“yeah? what’s this, bug?” he asked her, pointing at the massive love heart.

“means love.” she casually snuggled into his chest, as though it was completely normal. in the case of a four year old, that much felt true.

his lips lifted at the corners, in clear satisfaction. “you did good. let’s put it on my fridge when we get home, yeah?”

you let out a small little noise, as though what you were hearing was utter madness disguised in a bow. he was staring at the drawing in a way that had you genuinely confused, as though he was considering it to be a reality, as though he hadn’t just met you mere minutes ago.

as though it represented something so much bigger.

“she likes stories..” you managed, trying to make the mood a little lighter out of embarrassment.

he finally peered up at you, eyes so much darker than usual. “she’s observant.”

you weren’t sure what to say, your shaking fingers now in your lap as yejin quietly watched from the desk over, practically enamoured by the sexual tension radiating off of both of you. you were bewildered, thrown off your professional course as you simply went blank, all thoughts gone of out of the window.

thank god, arin, your saving grace, yawned loudly into jungkook’s chest, pulling you both out of the trance you were ultimately locked in. you watched as he hoisted her onto him more securely, before finally standing up, height completely looming over you in a way that had your gaze slightly glazed over. he wanted to see that look again. desperately.

“thank you for your time. this has been..insightful.” jungkook murmured, just as you stood up, smoothening your skirt.

you were sure your cheeks were on fire at this point, as a mixture of humiliation, curiosity, and frankly, hot need coursed through you at both the sight of him and his words.

“t-thank you for coming.” you stuttered out, nodding lightly, as he simply stood watching you for a few extra moments.

jungkook’s gaze only left yours to trail over you fully now, up and down as though he was savouring the sight of you, his fingers grazing the bottom of your cardigan instinctively, almost desperate to feel the woven strawberries his niece had gushed about so earnestly. he watched your breath hitch, his ego climbing as he realised he had the exact same effect that you were having on him.

oh, he was about to ruin you.

with a good night, you watched him leave, niece resting her chubby face on his shoulder, all whilst you slumped back into your chair, completely exhausted from the interaction. yejin all but leaped towards you, hands on your desk with wide eyes.

“oh. my. fucking. god.” she whispered down at you, to not cause any alarm with other teachers and parents.

you were fucked.

—

the weeks after parents evening were easily some of the most challenging of your adult life so far. to say you were being tested was an understatement, as your integrity of being a teacher came into challenge by none other than jeon jungkook.

you were notified that arin’s parents had to stay back for an additional two weeks, meaning you were seeing him on a minimum twice a day, five days a week. though the interactions were fleeting, both at drop off and pick up time, he took advantage of every seconds.

first came the fleeting touches. he’d watch as you handed the children back to their parent’s, taking the time to speak to each one earnestly, saying your goodbyes to sweet cherubs who would wave eagerly back at you. whenever it was his turn, he watched as your cheeks flushed pink almost immediately, your lips parting, brain malfunctioning in real time.

“pretty dress.” he had said to you once, as his niece bounced over, his fingers lightly grazing your wrist. “i like pink on you.”

“thank you.” you were sure your cheeks were on fire at this point, much to his amusement.

another time, he had grazed his fingers against your wrist, feeling your pulse for a moment too long as you handed him arin’s bookbag, a soft gasp leaving your lips at the contact. judging from his cool and collected demeanour, you assumed he wasn’t as affected as you were, but you couldn’t have been further from the truth.

jungkook’s entire mind had become you. your dresses. your floral perfume. the cute way you’d push up your glasses. there really only was one word to describe you as, and that was adorable - a stark difference to his darker being.

he’d go to work, opening up his tattoo shop, having to take regular breaks during sessions just to smoke a whole fucking pack of cigarettes in hopes you would leave his brain. this wasn’t normal. it wasn’t healthy. he didn’t know you. he didn’t know you. he didn’t know you.

and yet, he knew you. all little arin would do day and night was talk about her lovely teacher, and how excited she was to go to school, how upset she’d be that the weekend was coming. it was hard not to think of someone already stuck in your mind when the world would put them in every direction you’d look in.

he liked hanging back whenever he’d pick her up, too. one time, he had come in late to pick up, the school gate closed, meaning he had to walk through the long way into reception. it took him a while but once he reached your classroom, the sight nearly had him letting out a shaky breath.

his niece, colouring, so adorably, as you cooed down at her, guiding her to do it within the lines, giving her praise all the whilst she beamed.

once he had made his presence known, he stayed behind for another 20 minutes just to speak to you. he wasn’t much of a talker, but he couldn’t help but hover around you, listening as you shyly answered his questions. he felt ridiculous, asking anything just to get your attention, even asking about lesson plans to hear you light up and talk.

jungkook was a domestic man. he didn’t look like one, not with his appearance, all tatted and rough, but he had always wanted a family of his own - one look at you and his breeding kink was already blaring loudly within his ears.

oh, he had big plans for you.

y/n. you’d look good next to him, he thought, all sweet and doe-like. men like him ruined girls like you, but he wanted to be better than that, and be worthy of you. he had his own business, a good place in the city, enough money in the bank to spoil you rotten, a good head on his shoulders. he could offer you stability. could offer you so much and more.

the pair of you were ruined.

half term finally arrived, and it felt like both relief and punishment.

relief, knowing that you were spared jungkook’s presence, allowing your brain to finally exist once more in comfort, without the constant push and pull of how much you wanted him. he had become your personal brand of torture.

punishment, knowing that he was no longer in your presence regularly. arin’s parents had come home earlier than planned, meaning jungkook had simply stopped coming one day, a small frown on your face at the thought.

you had spent the last fortnight in what could only be described as pure anticipation, body learning his schedule before your mind could ever keep up. his heavy presence, his darkening eyes that would watch you with each passing move at exactly 3.15, when the children would finally come out.

he was always on time, always watching, always saying just enough, but never too much. it made it so much worse when you compared it to some of the other dads who flirted casually, openly, directly - jungkook stalked.

there had been the afternoon where he leaned against the doorway to your classroom, watching arin pack up, having stayed behind for an afternoon club. black t-shirt, sweats, hair slightly messy - he looked so good that you had to turn your back to him, leaning up to blutack things onto the wall.

“you always dress like this for work?” he asked you from across the room, heavy gaze following you shamelessly.

you peered over your shoulder nervously. “like what?”

he didn’t respond, tongue in his cheek as he openly checked you out, head tilted before his niece hopped over, shouting out a sweet bye bye to you. you watched as he was pulled away, his eyes hovering over every inch of you, only pulling up to meet your eyes once he was about to properly leave.

you shook your head at the memory.

tonight was different. it felt so much heavier than usual, so much more impactful, and exactly what you needed.

dressed in a dress that was obnoxiously short, you looked at yourself in the club bathroom, eyes dazed, skin slightly sticky from the heat of packed bodies. your body was on show, a complete 180 of what you typically looked like, with alcohol booming through your veins, providing you with a candied reality.

the club pulsed around you as you pulled down your dress at the bottom, pulling your straps up your shoulders to stabilise it over your breasts, you legs on show, your tiny, lacy panties ready to be seen underneath if you even thought of bending over. violet lights sparked in every corner, and though the bathroom was empty, you swore you could still feel everyone around you.

yejin had insisted you go out with her tonight, your other best friend jimin tagging along in the name of a good night.

something along the lines of, “more alcohol and even more bad decisions.”

you had let them dress you, style you, even down to the lack of bra underneath the dress, with him scoffing at the thought, letting out a mutter of how it would ruin the silhouette of the dress.

you were so used to looking like innocence personified that it felt euphoric to finally become sin, and as you entered the club once more, you felt yourself become engulfed in it. you had been here for an hour or so, and already multiple men had hit on you, buying you drinks, going so far as to openly grab you but it did nothing.

none of them compared. none of them were him.

you felt plagued, whining every time your lips touched the rim of a glass, remembering him even in your moment of desperation. you were here to forget him, not to remind yourself of his presence.

oh, but only if you knew.

if only you had looked around you.

if only you had actually opened your eyes.

jeon jungkook rolled his shoulders for the umpteenth time that night, tense, jaw locked and hardened as he watched your scantily dressed body saunter around, hands tied into that of your friends. he watched as you drank your cocktails, rolling your eyes as men tried to approach you, your dainty fingers pushing against their chest with a dismissive look.

who were you?

he hardly recognised you. no, he was used to the strawberry dresses, the flowers you often tucked behind in your ear, the cute dresses that touched your calves, your sweet ballet flats. your eyes would scrunch with each and every smile, head tilting as your hair sat in buns and ponytails.

you right now, however, were not that girl.

there was something sultry imbedded into you, with the way your hair sat so sleek down your back, your skin on show and your giggles hidden behind a manicured hand. god, he had never been harder in his fucking life. his girl, was this really you?

he had every intention of coming to you after half term, to properly ask you out, just like a girl you deserved. seeing you now made his brain malfunction - why the fuck would he wait, when you were right here, right now, all his.

he had been here just as long as you had, and considering this was his friend, jin’s, club, he had been lounging in the vip, nursing a drink. he looked angry, with every person looking at him avoiding him, when in reality he was watching with staggered breath.

there really was nothing casual about the way jungkook watched you.

his friends had long stopped trying to talk to him, with conversations around the vip section becoming static in his ears whilst his world narrowed to the little slip of skin exposed when your dress rose higher as you danced.

he had downed his drink within seconds, with his newest sitting untouched for twenty minutes.

it sat sweating beside his hand, long fingers drumming against the glass, his body restless as he sat, trying to leave you be. he wanted to be respectful. fuck he was trying to do right by you, leave you alone.

namjoon said something, beside him, and yet he couldn’t hear a single word because you were laughing. your head tipped back throat exposed, whilst some stranger took it as ample opportunity to come closer to you, whispering something into your ear.

jungkook’s jaw locked even harder.

“that the teacher?” namjoon asked, with a low whistle as he traced his friend’s eye-line, catching sight of the pretty lady.

he couldn’t answer.

not when you had taken that very moment to turn, and your dress. fuck.

it clung like sin.

all those prim and proper outfit choices felt blasphemous to think about now, especially now that he had seen you in all of your glory. all those sweet, pastel dresses he had spent weeks dreaming about, peeling them off of you inch by inch, were now replaced by the sight of you in front of him, practically naked.

he genuinely couldn’t breathe.

he should have looked away, he owed you that much. instead, his mind became uglier - thoughts of wondering hands, strangled moans, that pretty dress pushed up to your waist. god, he’d ruin you. you’d let him too, from the looks of it.

“you look sick.” jin grumbled as he sat beside his friend, pouring namjoon a drink. “what are you moping about? this isn’t a good look for me, you know.”

“feel worse.” jungkook let out a humourless exhale, rolling his shoulders once more.

the disgusting realisation that he had tried to be good was enough to drive him insane, because that was the problem. he had tried to court you right, respectfully, like you deserved - tried to keep his filthy thoughts of touching something as soft and delicate as you far away, only to walk into a club and find his sweet teacher dressed like every bad thought he had ever had.

he was done. done pretending like he was unaffected, and done pretending like he wasn’t absolutely enamoured by you. he had never felt like this towards anyone in his life, not even the long term relationships he had been in - he didn’t just want you. he wanted to own you.

possessiveness and ownership ran at the forefront of his mind whenever he looked at you, and he knew it was sick, but the part that flickered inside of him whispered into his ear that you wouldn’t mind the idea whatsoever. an even more fucked up part of your mind promised him that you would like it.

every man had his eyes on you and enough was enough. the bartender, the sleazy guys, even the ones with extra money in their pocket - enough. you were his. surely you knew that by now?

he catalogued every single face, making good note of what they looked like before finally standing up in all of his glory, shoulders wide, biceps tense. his chair had lightly scraped, capturing the attention of all of his friends, who watched as he finally began his descent away from the vip section, and right to where you were.

-

you didn’t know where the heat was coming from anymore. the club was warm, the alcohol even warmer as it ran down your throat, rendering you officially tipsy. you were practically on cloud 9, finally able to breathe and enjoy yourself the way you wanted and planned.

something else, however, had began pricking at your senses.

you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

you knew it was ridiculous considering you could actively feel multiple eyes on you, wandering gazes from men who wanted nothing more than to sink their teeth into you but this was different. it felt different.

you tried ignoring it, only to fail, as every few seconds your body kept reacting to something in the unseen, the hidden. your thighs felt restless, your throat tight, your skin far too aware of your surroundings - you blamed it on the tequila.

“you’re flushed!” yejin shouted over the music.

“yeah..i feel really hot.”

jimin laughed. “that’s the point.”

you rolled your eyes at him, pushing his shoulder gently as he twirled you both. you took one last sip of your chilled drink before glancing at the bar.

“i need another.” you groaned, already ready to get drunk, but the lack of liquor was proving to be a problem. “wait, get me one too, i’m about to finish this.” jimin asked, giving you a pearly smile.

you nodded dramatically, before turning to the bar, fighting your way through a sea of people. you could feel hands all over you, and though they weren’t welcome, you weren’t annoyed by them either, as they only added the euphoric state of your mind. you moved around people in a blur of neon and heat, lights flashing down on you harshly before you managed to get to the bar finally.

bass thudded through the floor, so much so that you could feel it in your heels, and through your ribs. you squeezed up to the bar, solidifying yourself a place before politely calling out to one of the bartenders.

nothing. he completely ignored you, causing you to frown, trying once more, earning a passive look before he turned to serve someone else.

you pouted, head tilting in a mixture of tipsied offence and confusion. “rude..”

before you could even conjure up anything else, or try again for that matter, you felt something against you.

a large body pressed against yours, tightly, to which you could feel every ridge, every bite of muscle engulfing you in that very moment until you could do nothing else other than simply gasp. you froze, breath held in your chest, as you watched two large arms snake from either side of you, caging you meanly into the bar with no escape.

you would have recognised those tattoos anywhere.

you froze, your breath completely stalling as you were crowded completely against the bar edge, your front pressed harshly, whilst your back was pushed against heated skin. you were crowded, deliberately, intentionally.

pine. musk. him.

your lips parted before your brain could keep up, just as you felt breath touch your ear.

“that pout for him?”

your knees nearly buckled.

your shaking hands pushed back against him just slightly, enough to turn in his arms and see for your own two eyes whether this truly was a reality. big mistake.

you stood face to face with jungkook, his head dipped low, eyes capturing your own almost instantly. his tattoos were so much clearer under neon lights, his piercings glinting, his eyes so dark, his shoulders so wide. you genuinely couldn’t comprehend this. couldn’t fathom he was here, capturing you so no one else could have a look.

claiming you.

he looked almost offended by how beautiful you looked in that moment, all starry eyed and heart lipped.

“jungkook.” your voice came out shaky, breathless even, so much smaller than intended.

his gaze dragged over your face visibly. over your eyes, down to your nose, dragging against your lips, grunting once he looked down at your body, before coming all the way back up to meet your stare once more.

“baby.”

your stomach flipped so hard you gripped the bar behind you harshly.

“what..what are you doing here?”

his jaw clenched. “watching you.”

no embarrassment, no shame - he said it like a well known fact. it should have unsettled you, and yet, you felt a shaking exhale leave you.

“how long?” you dared to whisper, causing him to push you harsher against the bar, your bodies so intimately pressed against one another. “all night.” he whispered, head dropping down to meet the shell of your ear.

the hands at either side of you now came forwards, fingers grabbing at your waist, pushing you that last cm into him, meaning your own hands came up press against his chest, all whilst his head sat almost touching your own, eyes unable to look away from one another.

he was touching you. intimately.

before either of you could speak again, jungkook broke eye contact, looking behind you as the bartender finally decided to appear. one look at jungkook and he was gulping, recognising him as the owner’s best friend, immediately giving you both the highest of attention.

“what do you want, pretty girl?”

pretty girl?

in that voice?

you forgot every fucking drink in existence.

“i..” your mouth open and fell, looking down at your hands on his chest, flexing your fingers gently, before your eyebrows furrowed. “that gone already?” he asked you in mild amusement.

you flushed hard.

“vodka soda, please.” you tumbled out, holding him delicately.

he ordered for both of you, swiping his card with ease, not even sparing you a second glance during payment. it was only when the bartender moved away to make the drinks that you realised he had stayed where he was exactly, with no intention of moving back, still pushing your body against him intimately. now that you were touching him back, his chest flexed under your hands.

the music swallowed everything but him.

a hand let go of one side of your waist, instead reaching up to cup your chin, fingers wrapping around your neck also, to tilt your head upwards. he was examining you still.

“missed this face.” he hissed quietly underneath his breath, causing you to flutter your eyelashes up at him, stomach swirling with butterflies. “look at me when i talk to you.”

your gaze met his once more, forced as his hand tightened around your neck, causing you to practically slump against him. you liked it, liked it a little too much - the feeling of almost feeling powerless at the hands of a man who had been on your mind the day you met him at parents evening.

your thighs pressed together.

“do you know,” he began, sounding thoughtful, so soft, “how many men have been looking at you tonight?”

your pulse jumped as his mouth dipped close to your ear, letting out a gentle little, “hm?”

“nearly dragged one outside for touching you.”

a cocktail mixture of heat, confusion arousal and fear jolted through your nervous system, as you found yourself letting out a shaky breath. “why?”

“because i’ve been trying so fucking hard to be good for you, y/n.” he hissed then, almost sounding in pain.

his words hit like a tidal wave, as you desperately tried to catch up, fingers now digging into his skin beneath his t-shirt hidden chest.

his thumb pressed into your jaw, forcing your face higher. “tried real hard, pretty girl.” his voice was low enough to not be carried by the music, an ode to you and you alone. “thought you were a good girl. thought you deserved a man to do this right.”

he leaned closer, just as your lips parted.

“tried to wait until half term ended, give you some space to think.” his eyes shut tight for just a second, as though reminiscing his once plan. “was gonna come to you with flowers like some fucking gentleman, take you out, walk you home. was gonna do all that sappy shit ‘cause you deserve it.”

the words sounded sinful in his mouth, but the imagery in your head was enough to have you whimpering openly. the thought of him, jungkook, so enamoured by you, more than what you thought. you were so sure this was one sided regards to the way you felt, and yet here he was, declaring it to you in front of others.

“but then i walk in here,” his eyes deliberately ran down your shaking body. “and find you wearing this.”

you gulped almost nervously. “do..you not like it?”

“more than just like it, baby. fucking love it.” he hissed, offended by your thought track. “problem is every other bastard in this place is looking at you too. drives me fucking insane.”

your eyes left his, trying to catch your breath, so overwhelmed by everything around you - the thump of the music, the flashing lights, the heat, the proximity. he watched you, examining you in detail, recognising every single emotion on your pretty little face.

his thumb dipped, touching your bottom lip, dragging it gently over until it pulled, his eyes trained solely on your mouth. “you’re in my head. can’t get you out.” he admitted quietly, for you to hear and you alone.

the sentiment was not lost on you, as something inside your stomach, soul and mind broke at the prospect. you had assumed he had a roster of girls, that he was using you almost as placeholder because of convenience - this..this wasn’t what you had expected.

knowing he felt the same way as you, equally as confused, equally as enamoured; it felt like confirmation that you weren’t going insane. the magnitude of your feelings, no matter how sudden, felt heavy in your body. to know he was feeling the same, despite his usually quiet and reserved self made you want to scream in joy.

“i can’t stop thinking about you either.” you whispered, so faint that he wouldn’t have heard you had his eyes not watched your lips part.

that alone, was the confirmation jungkook needed as he suddenly pulled away, giving you and your body space. the look on his face was devastating, as though you had said the one thing that could truly undo him, his hands shaking as they released you, running them both through his hair messily - he looked ruined and you had only said a single phrase.

you blinked up at him, dazed.

“jungkook..”

“don’t.” his voice came out rough.

he sounded strained, as though his entire resolve was now left hanging on a thread. his jaw ticked at you openly as he stared and stared and stared, looking away momentarily as though he was thinking, wanting nothing more than to be good to you, be the gentleman he knew you deserved. he needed to be.

and yet, he lost.

he looked back at you, face eerily calm as he took both of your hands and pulled once more, your body pulled against him. fingers intertwined as he brought the back of your own to his lips in a sudden sweet kiss. “come with me.”

your breath caught for the millionth time that interaction. “where?”

“somewhere i can think.” he let out a humourless little laugh, all disbelief.

any rational person would have asked more questions, clarified what was going on, why he seemed so undone by you and your tiny dress, but frankly, you didn’t care. you were utterly captivated by him, and having his attention like this felt addicting, like a class a drug created entirely for you.

so, instead, you nodded.

jungkook began to lead you, body close to yours, creating a path with ease. his hands never left yours, steadying you as you stumbled a little, making sure you were good as people watched you both, men ogling you and women ogling him. you managed to catch yejin’s gaze, who had a beaming smile on her face once she recognised who you were with, animatedly pointing at jungkook with a big thumbs up, making you flush even deeper than you had all night. thankfully, jungkook seemed to stay ignorant of it.

heat ran down your spine as he took you left, walking past security who nodded at him, opening up a pair of doors that seemed inaccessible to a large majority of the people here. your eyebrows furrowed slightly as you were led up a set of stairs, private, dimly lit, the music growing quieter with each passing step.

the club noise completely muffled to a dull noise, leaving your heartbeat as the loudest noise around you.

jungkook was ahead of you, broad shoulders filling the space in front in a way that made you want to moan. fuck, he was just so big all over, it was one of the most attractive things about him - he didn’t even need to try, just being around him made you safe.

halfway up the stairs, he suddenly stopped, your fingers still locked with his.

your front brushed his back as you walked into him slightly.

you watched as he turned to face you, the cool air of the staircase easing your body’s heated temperature whilst his state did nothing to sedate the growing fire in your stomach. you peered up, watching as he stepped down, pushing you against the railing gently, dipping his own head down so he could breathe in your scent like a mad man.

“you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

dark eyes, wrecked. he looked sinful, utterly dangerous for the space between your legs.

to his question, you merely bit your lip, nibbling on it. he watched, eyes tracing the action with a harsh sense of affection - his sweet teacher was still there, it seemed, simply hidden underneath smoky eyes and bare legs.

“gonna take you upstairs, y/n.” he whispered softly. “i’m gonna treat you exactly like i wanted from day one, like i should have. need to know you’re coming because you want me too.”

it was your turn to almost take offence, with your eyebrows pulling tight. your shaking hands became confident, resting on his chest, fingernails digging slightly into skin to mark your territory.

“want you. wanted you from day one too, jungkook.” you promised him, big eyes fluttering in a way that wanted him to take you then and there.

a beat of silence stretched between you.

you watched as he shut his eyes, exhaling lightly, before pulling forward and pressing his lips faintly to your jaw, grazing it as an almost promise to you - he wouldn’t let you regret your choice.

pulling away, he let out a breath, before taking a hold of your hand once more, also pressing a kiss to it as he led you up the rest of the way, this time with an assured sense of urgency.

he opened the door to the private room, and your eyes pulled back in both a mixture of awe and intrigue. you had never been in a place like this, adorned with such lavish furniture, a private bar, a lounging area where a few guys sat around, some of them talking to girls, all whilst jungkook began leading you to another door across the room. all eyes were on you, and you realised these were clearly his friends, from the way they all either smiled politely at you or smirked at jungkook openly.

as he pulled you into an additional room, you watched as he locked it behind you, to ensure a level of privacy, only for you to turn, your stomach dropping in pure anticipation.

a large bed.

the sight of it nearly had you moaning out as it confirmed every thought in your head, your legs growing weak, thighs desperately pushed together at the understanding of what was going to happen. it was all you had been able to think about for weeks.

the thought of him being just as desperate as you, bringing you here just to ruin you, despite having played the gentleman for the entirety of the time you’d known him - your ego bloomed at the thought of having a man like jungkook so down bad for you.

you could hear footsteps behind you, breath hitting your shoulder as his head dipped, breathing in your perfume once more. his body pressed against yours meanly, your back to his front, against him in ways where you could feel him intimately.

“sweet girl.” he hummed just as you looked over your shoulder, meeting his heavy gaze.

he had the faintest of smirks on his face as he read you like a book, a fucked out expression over you and he hadn’t even touched you properly - oh the fun he was about to have. his hands grabbed onto your waist, pushing you lightly as he led you forward, all the whilst planting pepper kisses to the back of your neck.

your small little dress began to ride up as you were plopped onto the bed, bouncing lightly as he stood, hovering over you, looking at the lace of your panties that was now visible, a dampened patch inbetween your legs that had his cock visibly straining against his jeans. his mouth salivated at the sight.

“the things i want to do to you, baby.” he sighed, as your face sat crotch level for him, your gaze fluttering over him in anticipation.

“then do it.” you whispered, almost taunting him, desperate to see him break in front of you.

for a moment, neither of you spoke, simply staring at one another, until he suddenly lunged for you.

you gasped as you scurried backwards on the bed, just as he hovered over you, pinning you down harshly on the plush covers, watching the way you sank in comfortably. he grabbed your arms, pinning them above your head, leaning down to press his head against yours.

he looked possessive by definition, lips curled in almost snarl as he breathed you in, your eyes fluttering closed at the feel of him already so intimately against you. one of his knees separated your legs, cold air hitting the wetness between your thighs, to which he grunted lightly at.

“my good girl. gonna let me ruin you forever, baby? no going back after this, you’ll be mine.”

to that, you nodded almost instantly, hips bucking upwards to get any sort of friction. “please..want it.”

how could he deny his girl?

his lips dropped against yours immediately, claiming harshly.

lips moved in unison as you immediately moaned into his mouth, causing him to groan as he felt you utterly melt. your hands, pinned against your head, were pliant against his own fingers as his lips claimed you, kissing you like a man starved, all whilst grinding down on you for friction.

you could feel how hard he was, how much bigger he was than you in this position and it made your brain malfunction, realising that he truly had every intention of breaking you tonight, just like you wanted.

soon enough, his tongue demanded entry into your mouth, to which you allowed, feeling him explore you in ways that had you whimpering at the thought of it between your legs. it was like he could read your mind, applying further pressure between your legs, the noises leaving you enough to render him dead on the spot.

once he pulled away to let you breathe, he watched as a thin string of saliva separated you, the sight enough to have most cumming in their pants. he couldn’t wait, couldn’t be rational, not when you were here, moaning for him, grinding, desperate to be touched by no one else other than him.

immediately, he sat up, watching as you propped yourself up on your elbows, lips slightly bruised.

he leaned over, grabbing your dress and pulling it up almost meanly, pushing it over your waist and to your stomach, causing you to crash back down on the bed, your hands shaking as they looked for something to grab.

“fuck.” he elongated, groaning loudly at the sight inbetween your legs.

pretty, lacy and tiny. your panties did nothing to hide how wet you were, as they sat completely soaked against you, desperate to be peeled off, hungry to be touched. he immediately positioned himself between your legs, grabbing either thigh before yanking you down to meet him, a squeal leaving your lips at his harsh actions.

“look at you, y/n.” he hissed, nose brushing against your clothed pussy immediately, breathing in the scent. “j-jungkook!” you squeaked, hands flying to his hair in almost embarrassment, as you watched him simply grunt against you like a pervert.

“a good man would be gentle with you..” he whispered underneath his breath, planting pepper kisses to anything he could get his hands on. “but i can’t do that baby. you understand, right?”

“don’t want you to be gentle.” you immediately shook your head in a whimper. “wanna feel you properly.”

that was all he needed. confirmation from his girl that she wanted it just as nasty as he wanted to give it to her - you really were a match made in heaven.

and so, he pushed your panties to a side, blowing against your pulsing clit for a second as he admired how fucking pretty your pussy looked like this, before utterly devouring you.

you let out a loud squeal, hands flying to his hair almost immediately as jungkook began eating you out like a man starved. your poor clit was being abused by his mouth as his sucked, licked, traced and bit, making you feel very inch of his emotions towards you.

you bucked your hips into him, desperate to get away from the overwhelming emotion, but he kept you pinned, grunting loudly at you each time you tried to pull apart. instead, you were resolved in pulling at his strands harshly, crying out his name despite knowing that everyone outside the room could probably hear you.

fuck, he knew you would taste good. one look at you and he knew you were candied all over, but this? how could he ever live without a taste of your pussy now that he was here? the way your thighs trembled violently, your core leaking, all whilst he played with you.

he relaxed one of your thighs with his hand before his fingers began prodding at your entrance, his eyes looking up to capture your own just as he inserted one, watching the way it scrunched up in a mixture of pleasure and shock.

“fuck, jungkook!”

the call of his name on your tongue as he gave you no time to adjust was euphoric, pumping his digit in and out, in and out, in and out as he suckled on your clit like a mad man. soon enough, he couldn’t help himself, inserting another whilst you whimpered about it being too much, only causing him to scoff against you.

“gotta be able to take my cock, pretty girl. need this pussy stretched out.”

you bucked your hips into him further at his words as he set a relentless pace, so deep, fingertips curling every chance he got. sure you had played with yourself, and had boyfriends touch you, but this was on another level. no man had ever made you moan so loudly, always having to fake orgasms and get off privately after but this? you realised there was no way you could let jungkook out of your life, not if your pussy craved this exact feeling forever.

“you’re so good to me. taste so good.” he groaned, all but making out with your pussy, your slick dripping from his chin. “don’t know how long i’ve wanted to do this.”

“wanted this too.” you whimpered back.

“yeah?” he scoffed, sucking, pumping. “i should’ve ate you out on your desk like i wanted. should have made you lock the door and kept your mouth full.”

“y-you can still..fuck..still do that.” you promised him, moaning uncontrollably at this point, scratching at his shoulders, at the sides of his face, anything you could get your hands on.

to that, he grunted, sucking particularly harshly on your clit. “yeah? you want me to do that, baby?”

you couldn’t respond. not when you were already close, already feeling something build in your stomach that you knew would ruin you for the rest of your life - three weeks and he had managed to outdo any man in your life thus far, and you paled to imagine the thought of not having him after this. not when his fingers pumped so meanly, tongue circling only to suck even meaner, causing your legs to shake uncontrollably around him.

“k-kook..m’gonna cum.” you managed to choke out, but it was like he couldn’t hear you, only going harsher, more eager, more desperate, his own hips grinding against the bed to feel some relief.

white, hot light soaked through you as your hips lifted off of the bed, a loud and choking squeal escaping just as your orgasm finally hit you. you could feel it run up and down your veins, coursing through you harder than any other time in your life, clenching around his fingers in a tight clamp. jungkook choked at the feeling, eyes shutting tight before opening up immediately to watch you orgasm for him, body shaking, whining and crying.

he continued to pump, not caring that you were a bundle of oversensitivity until you began slapping at his shoulders desperately to get him to stop. he listened, although reluctant, pulling away from the space between your legs with a small pant, your panties in his hands as he pushed them into his back pocket.

he was so much more perverted than you thought, and yet you liked it. yearned for it even, enjoying it beyond belief as you watched one another pant. you were dazed, eyes completely glossed over with a sense of need you had genuinely never felt before, watching as he pulled you up from your perched position.

you felt his hands on your dress, helping you remove it, unzipping and pulling it above your head, whilst you yanked at his own t-shirt, desperate to have him as bare as you. he couldn’t help the small smile at your actions, loving how needy you were now that you had cummed - god, you were so adorable.

soon enough, all that was left between you were his boxers, to which, you let out a pretty little sigh at the sight. he was big, too big for sure, but the print of him so harshly pressed against his boxers had you oozing between your legs once more, looking up at him almost shyly.

“dunno, kookie..i-i..don’t think you’ll fit.” you admitted honestly, the use of such a cute nickname doing something to him as he immediately hovered over you again, pressing kisses to your lips hungrily. “gotta make it fit, right baby? just need to take it.”

you nodded at him, so pliant in every way, his submissive doll. god, he felt like he was corrupting you, and yet he knew you were also leaving your mark on him too.

he wanted nothing more than to fuck your throat, but he knew he wouldn’t last, and so, he pulled down his boxers quickly, pumping his cock with one hand, pushing your hair away with the other. he asked you to lift your legs for him, to which you did sweetly, revealing your messy pussy once more, a slow breath escaping him.

he ran the tip of his cock up and down your core, collecting slick, just to see your expression. you were propped up on your elbows, watching him with an open mouth, a blissed out expression appearing everytime he nudged your sensitive clit, loving the feel of something so much larger than his fingers ruin you already.

“big breath.” he whispered down at you, as he began to push inside, watching the way your elbows gave out, your head falling plush to the pillows.

you grabbed onto his arms, letting out a loud, broken moan as the tip of his cock stretched you out wide, pushing deeper and deeper inside of you until you could genuinely feel him in your stomach. he wasn’t deterred by your nails digging into him, causing his skin to break, only further thrusting inside of you until he was fully inside, eyes never leaving yours.

watching the way you struggled to keep your eyes open, whimpering, shaking, yanking him down to you whilst also pulling at his hair, grabbing at his skin. god, he was going insane. he couldn’t breathe, not with you gripping him so tightly, not when he was completely inside you and still wanted to feel so much closer than what he already was.

“too big.” you whimpered out with a quivering lip, as he panted above you, pressing kisses to your face. your cheeks, your nose, your eyes, your lips - his angel girl. “doing so good for me baby, fuck. look at you.”

he took one of your hands, kissing it before pressing it against your own stomach so you could feel the slight bulge, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

the mixture of pain and pleasure was utterly addicting, as though this was the one thing you had needed, craved even, without realising. how were you ever supposed to live without it now that you’d had a taste?

a whine was pulled from you as he suddenly pulled back, and gave you a thrust, skin slapping against skin almost immediately. he did it again, and again, and again, and again, until you were finally moaning, squealing each time he pushed back down on your stomach so you could feel him even deeper.

soon enough, he was setting a pace, thrusting j in and out of you, the sounds of your moans and his grunts filling the space, echoing out to the rest of the vip section.

you were usually a reserved person but even you couldn’t bring yourself to care, feeling utterly gone in the hands of a man you barely knew. this wasn’t like you, it was uncharacteristic - even your past boyfriends and flings were soft with you, equally as quiet and hesitant. jungkook went against everything you had ever known with his rough thrusts and harsh kisses, even the way he declared his interest for you felt too loaded to be deemed normal.

“so good to me.” he grunted into your ear as he began to set a faster pace, your moans echoing against the four walls, your eyes shutting tight. “fuck, fuck, fuck.” you whined out, legs widening for more.

the sound emitting from you both were downright sinful, as the tension of the past few weeks finally exploded between you both, jungkook fucking you like a man with a mission. his head rested against your own, hips ploughing into yours, cock all but bullying your poor pussy into submission as your lip continued to quiver, it all beginning to feel like too much and not enough.

“you’re so perfect.” he hissed. “you’re driving me insane. i can’t fucking think anymore, can’t..fuck, lift your hips..can’t do my job, can’t eat, can’t sleep. just you, all of the time.”

he sounded angry, as though you were genuinely plaguing him when all you had done was simply exist, doing nothing more than orbiting his life. it was enough to drive a man like him to ruins, as he realised very quickly that he had no intention of operating his life without you as his.

his words were ruining you too, as tears began to climb to the surface, only to flood and escape just as quickly as they formed. you were so overwhelmed by him, in the greatest of ways, and his delectations for you - you had never been desired so greatly, so openly, without any care of what it seemed like. it was obsessive, darkly so, and any other woman would have been smart enough to push him away. unfortunately for you, you simply spread your legs, begging him to go deeper.

“that’s it, baby. cry for me.” he cooed, genuinely enamoured by how sweet you were underneath him.

you raised your arms, wrapping them around his neck as he cupped your body, pulling you up so that he was practically fucking you off of the bed. you wanted to get closer. wanted to feel closer, even though it wasn’t even possible.

“feels so good.” you whined at him through hiccups, to which he nodded down at you, chest inflating, knowing he was bringing you pleasure. “yeah? like it when i fuck you open, my sweet girl?”

“wan’it all the time.” a sob almost tore out of your throat at the thought, the possibility even.

guys like him and girls like you, they didn’t make sense. you were too soft, too gentle, too understanding. he was rough all over, uncaring half the time with his words, mean by nature. lord knew that one taste of you had confirmed he would spend a lifetime changing that if it meant he could keep you for a second longer, especially with the way you were looking up at him with the sweetest of faces. how could he not be enamoured?

he let out a shaking breath, gripping you. this wasn’t normal, he knew that, fuck he was so aware it killed him - not even a month of knowing you and he couldn’t fathom not having this, not when you were everything he had ever secretly wanted. he knew you were the same too, with the way you were babbling, gripping onto him, your high approaching already but he didn’t want you cumming just yet, not when he had just started.

and so, he slowed his thrusts until he finally came to a halt, a loud, desperate whine echoing from the walls as you hit his chest. “why?”

instead, he grinded into you, making you feel every inch, every vein on his too big cock, just to see you squirm, just to see you shake.

“you’re mine, y/n. my girl now, you hear me?” he whispered down at you, face void of any emotion other pure, fucking devotion.

your quiet sobs only began to grow louder as you nodded earnestly up at him, fingers shaking once they finally locked into his hair once more, grabbing, pulling. “your girl.”

“my girl.” he repeated, panting as he began pick up his pace again. “fuck, the things i want to do to you.”

he smacked your ass harshly, the sound echoing around the room, hitting that sweet spot inside of you over and over until all you could feel were the shooting sparks trailing over your aching figure, your limbs curling around him desperately.

“do them. i want them all.” you begged him, hips lifting. “wanna feel you all the time, kookie.”

“yeah? kookie’ll do anything for you, baby. anything you ask for, i don’t give a fuck, it’ll be yours, you understand?” he was panting, voice harsh, almost mean. “this tight pussy was made for me.”

you let out the cutest “mhm” to confirm, knowing that his words were factual. his words rolled in your head, knowing you belonged to him both mind and body was beyond euphoria, but to know he truly meant it - fuck. it was insanity. this was genuine, unadulterated insanity.

soon enough, your positions had changed, as he bullied his cock back into you as you sat on top, your load moans heard by anyone close by. the feeling was unlike anything you had ever felt before, and though you had been stretched, jungkook choked at the feeling of how tightly you were clamping him.

he watched as you rode him, letting you take it at your own pace, your tits bouncing with every thrust. his bunny. you were too cute in this position, and as he sat up, his back against the headboard, he couldn’t fathom how sweet you looked trying to pleasure both yourself and him.

it wasn’t about the pace, it was about the effort. you put your all into everything, and despite him wanting to break you, it was this that had him coming undone in his mind. his girl, bouncing on a cock that barely fit earlier, ignoring the pain, completely overcome by the unbearable pleasure, rubbing her own clit.

“just like that.” he grunted, chest rising and falling as he watched you eagerly, his hands teasing your nipples. “such a good girl. just wanna feel good, don’t you? bouncing on my cock like a fucking slut.”

you clamped down hard on him at the name, liking it way more than you ever thought you would. “n-not..a slut.”

“yeah you fucking are. my slut, creaming on my cock like a whore.” he hissed, one hand coming up to grab and tighten around your throat, as he began to take charge, thrusting up and into you.

your eyes began to haze over, completely gone at the feel of him snapping into you.

“want you like this always. no thoughts in that pretty head, just taking it.”

your sobs only grew louder as his hand tightened on your neck, the lack of oxygen heightening your emotions. when he released you momentarily, you gulped in a large breath as his thrusts only hit harder, your ass bouncing against him with lewd noises echoing around the room.

you could feel it coming, your high rising in the pits of your stomach as you collapsed into his arms, falling forward to which he caught you almost immediately, not halting his movements even once. he cupped your face to his, cooing at you gently, pressing sweet kisses to your lips as though you were the prettiest thing he had ever fucking seen.

“gonna’cum.” you slurred, completely fucked out and cock drunk at this point as he completely wrapped his arms around you to trap him to his chest.

“fuck, me too baby. where do you want it?” he hissed, body marked from all of the scratches you had been leaving on him, sore cuts having formed.

you hiccuped as you met his gaze, lips glazing his. “inside. want you to cum here.”

your hand took a hold of his as you lead it to your pussy, where you were joined, the ploughing of his cock doing nothing to ease the restlessness of your mind. his breath caught at your words, wanting nothing more and yet never ever in a million years assuming you’d like the same. you weren’t even using protection, just fucking raw like rabid animals and hoping for the best.

what would be the worst case scenario? the thought of you pregnant had him seizing up, his balls full and ready to unload at the prospect of you carrying his child. he didn’t really give a fuck if it was too soon, or if you barely knew one another - he knew what he wanted. known it for years, and now that you were in front of him, begging for him to cum inside? he’d give you everything you wanted.

“yeah? want kookie to get you nice and round? get you pregnant?”

you hated the effect of his words as you nodded eagerly, matching his thrusts as a means to get exactly that.

his jaw became slack at the enthusiasm on your face, grunting loudly as he felt you clamp on his cock one last time, letting out a too loud squeal as you finally came.

hot, flashing white obscured your vision as you closed your eyes, electricity running up and down your veins, a final, devastating whimper escaping your bruised lips. your legs shook around him, your pussy clenching harshly to the point he choked, gripping you tightly, feeling his own orgasm wash over him.

you both fucked back into each other to ride out your highs desperately, with a mixture of lips clashing, moans shared between embrace, skin still slapping against skin. only when you wined out of overstimulation did he finally stop, chest heaving, arms still caging you.

the minutes after blurred into the quiet buzz, and music that could faintly be heard from downstairs. your eyes closed as you let him manoeuvre you, soft kisses being planted on every inch of you, sweet nothings whispered into the confinements of your ear as though they belonged to you, and you alone. your heart inflated at the way he brushed your hair out of your face, keeping you full with his cock with no intention of pulling out.

“did so good for me, baby.”

you almost shyly hid your face in his neck, slightly embarrassed by how intimate the situation now was with the absence of sexual tension. he wasn’t deterred, instead smiling down at the way your cheeks heated up at his attention, a quiet huff of amusement leaving him.

“i meant it by the way.” he hummed, positioning you so you were more comfortable, all whilst his cum leaked on either side of his cock, still stuffed inside of you. “you’re my girl, yeah?”

it was your turn to smile up at him, not bothering to respond but instead, press a soft kiss to his lips in confirmation.

all his.

—

end of term performances were the bane of your living existence. the children were stressed, the teachers were stressed, everything required a level of attention and meticulous care to the very last second all in hopes of pleasing parents. it felt excessive at times, but seeing your students up on stage, so adorably singing their hearts out just as they’d rehearsed did something to your brain that you utterly adored. it was all worth it in the end.

you stood, just behind the parents, in a corner of the room, watching the performance in front of you with a soft smile, holding up a thumbs up whenever one of your children looked at you for support. they were all performing beautifully, and judging from the fact there seemed to be not a dry eye in the sea of parents, you were pretty proud of yourself.

your stomach, however, was filled with butterflies at the sight of jungkook sat, alongside arin’s parents, only a few rows in front of you. you’d recognise your boyfriends shoulders anywhere, with his towering height and bigger build - even calling him that made you want to giggle into your own hands like a school girl.

the days following the club felt like a fever dream. he had cleaned you up, taken you home and stayed with you all night, leaving only reluctantly due to work commitments. he texted you as much as you needed, knowing you were an overthinker, always checking in on you, facetiming you more times than you could even count.

it had only been two months since that night but things were rapidly progressing between you. it was pretty clear to both of you that this wasn’t a normal relationship, and that the feelings you both shared for one another were intense to say the least. you felt insane half of the time, almost too scared to tell him the depth of your feelings for him, and yet jungkook had no qualms about it whatsoever.

whether you were in his arms, or over a call, or even stuffed full of his cock - he took every opportunity he got to tell you how deeply he wanted you - no, needed. you often came into the tattoo shop after your own shifts just to spend time with him, where he’d feed you, hold you, breathe in your scent.

you had met all of his friends, and his family, including arin’s parents who were quite literally over the moon over jungkook’s choice of partner. everyone who would meet you couldn’t believe he had managed to get someone so different, and despite being a ladies man, you were the definition of a keeper.

little arin had practically exploded at the confirmation you would be in her life in a more intimate way, constantly asking if you could come over to her house to play now that you were uncle kook’s girlfriend.

it all felt like a massive whirlwind of events, some that felt too fantastical to really be a reality. yejin teased you with every passing moment, until you had set her up with one of jungkook’s friends, jin, who owned the club. that resulted in her coming into work rather disheveled, clearly having showered and dressed in a hurry as she took you into your empty classroom to unload all of the dirty experiences.

it seemed that you were happy in every facet of your life, in ways you genuinely didn’t think were possible. even stood here as you admired the back of his head, you could feel your cheeks heating up, harbouring a soft smile you hid behind one of your hands.

soon enough, the performance was over, the children collected by their parents, all singing one another’s praises whilst you made your way to your classroom, humming underneath your breath. it was late and you just wanted to finish off a few bits and bobs before making your way back home.

you bent over a pile of finger paintings, hair pulled up into a messy bun to get it out of your face, your lip bitten. you just needed to pin a few up before you left, humming quietly as you gathered everything you needed, climbing up your step stool.

you leaned upwards, wobbling slightly as you almost lost your footing, a small squeak leaving your lips. before you could move an inch, two hardened hands grabbed you by your waist, positioning you back properly.

looking down, you met the gaze of your boyfriend, who was looking up at you in amusement.

“oh! i thought you left.” you blushed pink, embarrassed at being so clumsy in front of him.

“wanted a kiss.” he simply responded, before picking you up with ease, putting you back on the ground to actually face him.

the giggle you let out was one he was growing to love more and more with each passing day as you leaned upwards, pressing a small peck to his lips. he grunted, causing you to leave a few more, not wanting to have a full blown make out session at your workplace despite doing it so often at his. perks of being the boss.

“where do you want this?” he asked, taking the paintings out of your hands, barely stretching his hands up for the same space you had to climb just to reach.

fuck. you hated how attractive that was.

“thank you.” you pressed another kiss to his back once you had informed him, shuffling away to clean the rest of your station.

“you were good with them today. couldn’t stop watching you, think arin probably noticed.” he laughed a little underneath his breath once he had finished up, walking over to you. he slung his arms around your waist, pulling you in so your back sat flushed against his front. “didn’t think it’d make my brain go crazy.”

“what’d you mean?” you hummed, fingers tracing his fingers.

“is it too soon to get you pregnant?” he asked openly, causing you to gasp out loud, slapping his arm in protest at such crude language.

“kookie!”

he couldn’t help the smirk as he watched you flush bright red, the giggles that left you a clear indication of how you really felt.

“what? can you blame me?”

“you can’t talk like that.” you murmured through a shy smile, despite his kisses coming to attack you on your neck, jaw and cheek.

he leaned, forehead against yours, the moment oddly intimate. more intimate than anything else you’d ever really known, and yet that seemed to be a norm with him. he planted kisses to your face, anywhere he could access, as though nothing was enough and yet he wanted more and more and more and more.

“okay, help me just organise these drawings and then we can go home.” you teased, to which he nodded immediately, a man made pliant by the woman in his life.

you handed him a portion, whilst you did the rest, organising them in alphabetical order so it was easy to access tomorrow when you handed them back out to parents. you continued your smooth hum from earlier as you both worked respectively, the quiet between you welcomed and comfortable.

as you completed yours, you noticed jungkook, furrow in his brow as he stared at one openly in his hands. he was examining it in great detail, causing a pearl of curiosity to burn in your mind.

“what’ve you got there?”

he didn’t answer, as you walked over for yourself, cheekily sliding under his arm so you could view it within the confinements of his warmth. his expression shifted as one of his hands immediately took a hold of you, a too large hand gripping your stomach possessively. you loved how it felt.

a crayon drawing.

arin’s.

5 stick figures. a cute puppy in the corner, sun in the sky, grass on the ground.

your chest tightened as you recognised what you were seeing immediately.

arin, holding both of her parent’s hand’s, a big love heart above all of their heads as she depicted her happy little family. beside them, two others, holding hands, one labelled “uncle kook” and the other “auntie y/n”.

it looked incredibly similar to the one she had made three months ago, in that parents evening hall, where she had already depicted her two favourite people outside of her parents together, happy. a prophecy, it felt like.

the difference in this depiction, however was the big, fat diamond on your finger, and the veil on your head.

whilst you were busy gasping, eyes wide, finally looking at what she had depicted, you didn’t notice jungkook staring down at you, gauging your reaction whilst only pushing you back deeper into him, the incessant monster in his brain telling him to make it a reality and to do it quickly.

his wife. fuck. what a dream.

he’d make that happen. soon.

—

IM BACK!

guys, this was originally supposed to be 1k words but unfortunately, i cant shut the fuck up to save my life omg

i hope you guys enjoyed, i just love this pairing so much, aren’t they the cutest ever 😢 i have a few ideas pending for potential drabbles in the future if you guys are interested

thank you guys so much for reading, and thank you for your continued patience - if you want to show some love, my kofi is here, there’s no obligation whatsoever!!

Your second anniversary is just around the corner, and for the first time in weeks, you have something to look forward to. Something that, surely, he wouldn’t forget.

You let out a slow breath, staring at the untouched dinner on the table. It’s the third time this week you’ve set two plates, only to eat alone. The food has long gone cold, but you still can’t bring yourself to clear it away. Some foolish, desperate part of you still hopes Jungkook will walk through the door, pulling you into his arms, murmuring apologies against your skin.

But the door stays closed. Your phone stays silent.

You check the time—almost midnight.

He used to call. Even when he was busy, he always found a way to let you know he was thinking about you. A quick text. A voice note. Something. Now, hours pass without a word, and you’re left wondering when exactly you started feeling like a ghost in your own marriage.

You clench your fists, blinking back the sting in your eyes. This isn’t you. You don’t doubt him. You don’t overthink things. But these days, love feels a lot like waiting, and waiting feels a lot like breaking.

And you’re so damn tired of breaking.

You close your eyes, trying to remember the Jungkook from before, before work took over, before the distance set in. The man who, despite his quiet nature, always found a way to make you feel cherished. He wasn’t one for grand speeches, but his words had always carried weight. Small, simple confessions once meant everything. Now, silence is all you get.

It wasn’t always easy with Jungkook. Back in college, he was cold, reserved, a storm you could never quite predict. But little by little, he let you in. His love had been careful, deliberate, whispered promises in the dark, stolen glances across crowded rooms, fingertips brushing against yours like a secret only the two of you understood.

And now, it feels like you’re losing him.

The thought sends a sharp ache through your chest. You tell yourself it’s just work, that the weight of being CEO is heavier than either of you expected. That he still loves you, even if he doesn’t say it as often.

But love isn’t supposed to feel like this.

The clock hits midnight.

You don’t know what you were expecting. A text? A call? Maybe the sound of the front door unlocking, Jungkook stepping in, exhausted but still managing to hold you close?

But there’s nothing.

Your throat tightens as you stare at the small cake sitting on the dining table, the frosting slightly uneven, the decorations a little clumsy. You were never a good cook. Jungkook knew that better than anyone. But in the early days of your marriage, you had tried. Because back then, cooking together had been something special. Flour-dusted fingertips, shared laughter over burnt pancakes, stolen kisses between stirring batter.

So tonight, with him too busy and too stressed, you thought a quiet, cozy celebration would be enough. Something small, something just for the two of you.

But now, looking at the untouched dinner, the unlit candle, and the cake that no longer seems worth eating, you realize how foolish that hope was.

You glance at your phone—no messages, no missed calls.

You put away the plates. You put the cake in the fridge, even though you know it’ll probably stay there, forgotten.

And then you crawl into bed alone, wrapping your arms around yourself because if Jungkook won’t hold you, who else will?

----

You stir, feeling the warmth of an arm lazily draped around your stomach. The weight is familiar, and for a moment it feels like everything is okay.

Jungkook is still asleep. Shirtless, his toned chest rises and falls in steady breaths, his face soft in the morning light. His lips parted just slightly, making him look so much younger, so much more at peace.

You take your time looking at him, memorizing the exhaustion on his face, the faint crease between his brows even in sleep. He must’ve come home late—so late that you hadn’t even heard him.

Still, he’s here. Beside you. And that alone is enough to make something flicker in your chest.

Maybe he’s planned to stay home today.

Of course he remembers.

You can’t help but lean in, pressing a soft, loving kiss against his cheek. His skin is warm beneath your lips, and for a fleeting moment, everything feels like it used to.

Jungkook mumbles something incoherent, his brows knitting slightly before relaxing again. A small, sleepy noise escapes him, and the sound makes you giggle softly.

He stirs, his grip on your waist tightening just a little before his lashes flutter open. His dark eyes, still hazy with sleep, land on you, and for a second, there’s nothing but quiet warmth in them.

"You're up early," he murmurs, his voice thick with drowsiness. His thumb absentmindedly brushes over your waist, a touch so familiar yet so foreign all at once.

You smile, brushing a few strands of hair from his forehead. "Couldn't sleep much," you admit softly.

Jungkook hums in response, his eyes falling shut again for a moment. He nuzzles into the pillow, his grip on you still firm like he has no intention of letting you go. And for a brief, fragile second, the weight of last night, of the distance, of everything, seems to disappear.

Maybe he really did plan to stay home today. Maybe this morning means something.

Your heart clenches with the smallest trace of hope.

Jungkook lets out a long breath and shifts onto his back, stretching his arms above his head before blindly reaching for his phone on the nightstand. His warmth leaves your side, the air turning cold almost instantly.

You watch as his expression shifts, sleep slipping away as his screen lights up. His brows furrow, jaw tightening ever so slightly.

He mutters without a glance in your direction. "Shit, I need to get to the office."

The hope you held onto so desperately.. is gone.

Your mind scrambles to catch up.

Maybe he's kidding. This is definitely just one of his teasing games where he acts all nonchalant just to catch you off guard later. That’s how it used to be. Him pretending to forget something important, only to turn around and surprise you in a way that left you breathless.

You wait.

You wait for the smirk to tug at his lips, for him to toss his phone aside and pull you into his arms. You wait for him to kiss you insane, to murmur a husky "Happy anniversary, baby," against your skin.

You wait for him to prove you wrong.

But he doesn't.

Jungkook swings his legs over the bed, rubbing a hand down his face before standing up—grabs a fresh shirt from the dresser, checks his notifications again, already half-immersed in whatever work emergency is pulling him away.

The realization settles in too suffocating for you. He’s not playing or pretending. He really forgot.

And with that, the last flicker of hope inside you dies.

----

The sound of the bathroom door clicking shut barely registers in your mind. The faint rush of water follows soon after, but you’re still frozen in place, staring at the empty space where Jungkook was just moments ago.

Your fingers grip the sheets as you try to process it, try to make sense of the ache settling deep in your chest.

He forgot.

The thought circles endlessly, refusing to fade. It should be simple, just a mistake, something easily fixed with an apology. But it doesn’t feel simple. It feels like another crack in something that’s already been fragile for weeks.

Your gaze drifts to your phone, the screen lighting up with messages from friends and family. Warm wishes, sweet texts. All reminders of the day that Jungkook should have been the first to acknowledge. And of course, they must have messaged him too.

But you know the answer before you even have to question it. Jungkook has two phones—one for work, one for personal use. And these days, his personal phone sits untouched, collecting dust somewhere in the house while his work phone never leaves his side.

Your throat tightens.

Even if someone did remind him, would he have even seen it? Would it have even mattered?

You swallow hard, blinking against the sudden sting in your eyes.

Maybe you should say something. maybe try reminding him.

But a part of you, one that you don’t want to acknowledge—wonders if it even matters anymore.

You push yourself up from the bed, the weight in your chest making it harder than it should be. You don’t want to sit here, waiting for him to remember, waiting for an apology that might never come.

Just as you step toward the bathroom, the shower turns off. The door opens a moment later, as Jungkook steps out, towel slung low around his waist, droplets of water trailing down his toned chest.

For a brief second, your eyes meet. He looks at you, blinking away the last remnants of sleep, his expression unreadable. There’s no sign of realization, no flicker of guilt or hesitation. Just the same tired, distracted gaze you’ve been seeing for weeks.

You say nothing. Instead, you walk past him, entering the washroom to go about your usual routine. brushing your teeth, washing your face, anything to avoid the tightness in your throat.

The sound of the sink running is the only thing filling the silence between you.

By the time you step out of the washroom, Jungkook is already dressed for work. His tie is slightly loosened, one hand adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves while the other holds his ever-present work phone. He looks like he’s in a hurry, but that isn’t surprising. He’s been having breakfast at the office for weeks now—always rushing out, always too busy.

Still, you can’t grasp that he’s actually forgotten.

Some part of you still expects him to pause, to turn around and say something. But he doesn’t. He’s focused on his screen, scanning through emails like today is just another ordinary morning.

Your chest tightens. You need to look away before the emotions creeping up inside you spill over.

You settle at the table, opening your laptop like it’s just another workday. Since you’ve been working from home for the past couple of months, this isn’t unusual—but today, it’s not about work. It’s about avoiding him. About keeping your head down so he doesn’t see the way your hands tremble slightly.

If you act normal, maybe it’ll hurt less.

Maybe you won’t break in front of him.

And maybe, just maybe, if you pretend hard enough, you can fool yourself into believing it doesn’t hurt at all.

“Baby, can you help me with the tie?”

His voice is smooth- like every other morning before this one. Like today isn’t supposed to mean more.

You hesitate for half a second before standing up, walking towards him. Your fingers move automatically, looping the fabric, tightening the knot, straightening it against his crisp shirt. You should pull away the moment you’re done, return to your seat, to your laptop, to pretending like everything is fine.

But just as you step back, Jungkook’s hand catches your wrist.

Before you can react, he tugs you closer, his warmth enveloping you as his large hand cups the side of your face, fingers splayed against your skin. His touch is tender, his thumb tracing slow circles against your cheek, his dark eyes holding yours for a beat too long.

His mouth find yours.

Warm & lingering. He kisses you like he actually means it.

“Need it for good luck,” he mumbles lovingly against your lips.

You blink up at him.

Jungkook pulls back slightly, offering a small smile. “Big deal with the Kims today.”

And just like that, reality crashes back in.

Your mind struggles to process, to understand how he can be like this. How can he kiss you like this and still not remember.

His mind is somewhere else. His thoughts, his focus—none of it is here. None of it is with you.

You force a smile, nodding wordlessly. Because what else is there to say?

----

You stay where you are, settled on the couch with your laptop open, pretending that your heart isn’t sitting heavy in your chest, while Jungkook moves around gathering his wallet and keys.

Just as he’s about to leave, he steps toward you, bending down to press a quick kiss to your forehead.

“Love you,” he murmurs.

He’s already halfway through the living room before you even get a word out.

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips before you can stop it.

You remember a time when things were different. When he used to whine, pout, and nudge you relentlessly if you didn’t say it back right away, just to tease him.

Flashback

The movie playing in the background had long been forgotten, the dialogue drowned out by the soft moans slipping from your lips. The purple neon glow cast dreamy hues across the living room, painting Jungkook’s skin in shades of violet as he moved above you.

His fingers laced tightly with yours, grip tightening slightly as his thrusts grew more desperate.

“J-Jungkook…” you moaned softly, nails digging into his hand.

He groaned against your neck, his breath hot, voice wrecked. “Fuck, baby…”

Your body arched beneath him, pleasure building to something uncontrollable. “I—I’m gonna—”

“Come for me, baby,” he urged, sending you tumbling over the edge.

You both unraveled together, gasping, shaking, holding onto each other like the world outside didn’t exist.

Jungkook pressed lazy, loving kisses all over your face, his lips brushing over your cheeks, your eyelids, the tip of your nose. “You alright?” he whispered.

You nodded, a sleepy, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. But then he just stared at you. A little too long.

"I love you.” The words came out barely above a whisper.

Your eyes widened slightly, a playful grin tugging at the corner of your lips as you bit down on them, trying to contain your smile. He’d been saying it more often lately, slowly getting used to voicing what he felt.

But when you took a second too long to respond, he groaned dramatically, dropping his head into the crook of your neck like a kicked puppy.

“Say it back,” he grumbled.

“What?” you teased, laughing.

Jungkook huffed, then playfully bit down on your shoulder, just enough to make you squeal.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice muffled against your skin.

Still giggling, you cupped his face and pressed a soft kiss to his nose. “I love you, you big baby.”

His grin was instant, arms wrapping around you as he pulled you even closer, like he could never get enough.

End of Flashback

Now, he just says it in passing. quick, thoughtless, already moving on.

The front door clicks shut, and just like that, Jungkook is gone.

You sit there, fingers motionless on your laptop’s keyboard as the weight of what just happened settles deep in your chest. He forgot. He kissed you, held you, told you he loved you, but none of it was because he remembered.

Is this what your relationship has become?

Work, work, work. Always work.

It’s not that you expect Jungkook to run behind you all the time, to ditch his responsibilities just to shower you with affection. Hell, you supported him through everything- through college, through late nights chasing his dreams, through every stressful moment leading up to him becoming CEO. You believed in him.

But what about your love? Your marriage? Communication?

You’ve been patient. Too patient. more understanding than any normal wife would be. And you know Jungkook. You know he loves you, would bring you the whole damn world if you asked. But then why—why are you beginning to question it all?

Jungkook stepped into the CEO position a few months ago. At first, things were fine. He handled it well, still made time for you. But then… everything became about work. Slowly, then all at once.

You can’t even remember the last time you had truly loving sex. Not that Jungkook doesn’t love you but it doesn’t feel the same anymore. There’s tension in his touch, frustration in the way he moves against you. It’s not the warmth, the desperation to be close to you like it used to be.

Is this how life is going to be from now on?

Sure, you could talk to Jungkook about your feelings. Tell him that the distance is starting to feel unbearable.

But when?

When he’s always checking his phone? When he barely even looks at you in the mornings? When you feel like you’re living with the CEO rather than your husband?

Well, happy anniversary to you.

----

Your gaze drops to your hand, to the delicate band wrapped around your finger.

Your wedding ring.

For the first time in a long time, you really look at it- tracing the intricate details, the subtle shimmer in the morning light. And suddenly, it feels… heavier. Like you’re only noticing the weight of it now, as if it’s trying to remind you of everything it once meant.

Before you even realize what you’re doing, your fingers slip beneath the band, sliding it off. It’s only when the cool air brushes against your bare skin that it hits you.

Your breath catches, eyes widening at the sight of the ring resting in your palm. You hadn’t even thought about it—you just did it. And now, staring at the small, beautiful piece of jewelry, something inside you cracks. Tears gather before you can stop them.

Jungkook had spent weeks searching for this ring. Dragged you to countless jewelry stores, analyzing every cut, every design, obsessed with finding the perfect one. And no matter how many times you had told him that anything would make you happy, he had refused to settle for less.

"It has to be special," he had murmured against your temple the day he finally found it, slipping it onto your finger with the softest smile. "Because you’re special."

A broken sob escapes your throat as you clutch the ring tightly in your palm.

How did you end up here?

----

Jungkook leans back in his chair, exhaling slowly as he watches the final contract details appear on his screen. The deal with the Kims had gone smoothly, better than expected, actually. It should’ve been a moment of satisfaction, of relief.

Instead, he just drowns himself in more work.

The hours blur together, his coffee going cold beside him as he moves from one task to another. Another meeting. Another report. Another email. The same routine, the same cycle.

It’s later than evening when a familiar voice interrupts his space.

“So you’re really here.”

Jungkook glances up, his fingers still typing as Taehyung steps into his cabin, arms crossed and a deep frown on his face.

“Hey, hyung,” Jungkook greets, barely looking away from his screen.

Taehyung scoffs, shaking his head playfully. “I really didn’t believe it when Yuna said you were still in your cabin.”

“Why?”

Taehyung gives him a look like he’s the biggest idiot in the world. “Y/N must really love you to let you work even today. My wife—dude, she would’ve killed me.”

Jungkook hums absentmindedly. “Mmm.”

Taehyung clicks his tongue, watching him for a second before letting out a chuckle. “Anyways, you’re still an asshole for working on your anniversary.”

Jungkook’s fingers freeze over the keyboard. The realization crashes into him all at once, like ice spreading through his veins.

Fuck.

Jungkook’s fingers hover motionless over the keyboard.

His mind races to catch up with Taehyung’s words, but they don’t make sense. Not right away.

Anniversary?

No, that can’t be right. His brows furrow slightly as he glances at the date on his laptop screen.

November 22.

His wedding anniversary.

For a second, he just stares, as if the numbers might shift into something else, something that doesn’t prove what an absolute idiot he’s been. His heartbeat picks up, but his body doesn’t move. It’s like his brain refuses to register it fully, like if he doesn’t react, it won’t be real.

He’d forgotten.

Completely.

Just an entire day of emails, meetings, and a deal he had been so damn focused on that he hadn’t even spared a single thought for you.

His wife.

But—no, that can’t be right. He would’ve remembered. He should’ve remembered.

His jaw tightens, his mind scrambling for some excuse, some reason. anything to justify how this happened. But no matter how many ways he tries to twist it, the truth doesn’t change.

You had expected something. Of course you had. And Jungkook had given you nothing.

Taehyung’s voice barely registers now, his casual teasing just background noise to the way Jungkook’s pulse is starting to hammer against his ribs.

His wife. His love. His anniversary.

And he had let it pass him by like it was just another day.

How the fuck is he supposed to fix this?

Taehyung squints at Jungkook, waiting for some kind of reaction. When Jungkook stays quiet, his fingers frozen over the keyboard, Taehyung lets out a sharp laugh.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” He leans forward, palms flat on Jungkook’s desk. “You just realized, didn’t you?”

Jungkook inhales deeply through his nose, his jaw tightening. “Hyung, not now.”

“Oh, no. Especially now,” Taehyung shoots back, shaking his head. “Damn, man. Y/N must really love you to put up with this shit.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, his mind already spiraling. He checks the time—late. The entire day is gone. He’s spent hours sitting here, drowning himself in work while you—

Fuck.

He pushes his chair back abruptly, grabbing his phone and shoving it into his pocket. His coat is next, yanked from the back of his chair as he moves on instinct.

“Whoa, whoa.” Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “So now you care?”

Jungkook levels him with a glare. “Hyung.”

Taehyung lifts his hands in surrender, though his smirk lingers. “Go. Try not to get divorced on your second anniversary.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for another word. He’s already out the door, moving faster than he has all day.

And for the first time today, work is the last thing on his mind.

----

Jungkook’s mind races as he grips the steering wheel, his fingers tightening with every passing second. The city lights blur past, but all he can focus on is the suffocating weight in his chest.

How the fuck did he forget?

His phone vibrates in the passenger seat- probably another work email but for the first time in months, he ignores it. Instead, he swipes through his contacts, pressing the first name that comes to mind.

“Pick up, pick up,” he mutters, jaw clenched as the dial tone rings.

“Yes, Mr.Jeon?”

“Yuna.” His voice is rushed, urgent. “I need you to get me something. Flowers. A gift. Something big—just—fuck, anything.”

A pause. “Sir?”

“Now,” he snaps.

There’s a shuffle on the other end before his assistant hesitantly speaks again. “I…Mr.Jeon, it’s almost 10 p.m. Most places are closed.”

Jungkook exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. Of course they are. Because he’s too fucking late.

His grip tightens around the wheel. “Just—check. Call whoever. I’ll pay whatever.”

“Understood,” Yuna replies before hanging up.

What the fuck is he even doing?

No expensive gift, no overpriced bouquet, no last-minute grand gesture can erase the fact that he forgot. That he spent an entire day drowning in work while you—his wife, his love, the woman who has stood by him through everything—sat at home, waiting for him to remember.

His hands clench the wheel.

How much had he missed? How much had he ignored?

And the worst part—the part that makes his pulse spike, that has panic clawing at his ribs is the question he doesn’t have an answer to.

What if you’re done waiting?

Jungkook slams his foot down on the gas.

He’s not losing you. He won’t.

----

Jungkook steps into the house, and immediately, something feels off. The air is still. The silence stretches, suffocating, pressing against his chest. Almost all the lights are off, the space eerily empty, like no one has been here for hours.

His throat dries. “Baby?”

No answer.

He frowns, dropping his keys onto the counter with a sharp clink. His feet move quickly, checking the kitchen, the living room, even the hallway leading to the bedroom. nothing.

A weird feeling starts creeping up his spine. His heart beats faster as he strides toward the bedroom door, only to find the bed untouched, the sheets exactly the way he had left them this morning.

You’re not here.

His pulse spikes, a cold sweat forming at the base of his neck. His hands tremble as he yanks his phone out, immediately dialing your number.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three.

Straight to voicemail.

His stomach drops. A shaky breath escapes him as he stares at his screen, the call log mocking him with the lack of response. His fingers tighten around the device, his mind spiraling.

Where are you? At this time of night, alone- where could you have gone?

The walls feel like they’re closing in on him. His lungs strain for air.

Then, another thought claws its way in, violent and unwelcome.

Did you leave?

No. No. His chest tightens, his breath coming faster now. That’s not—that’s not possible. You wouldn’t just leave him. You wouldn’t—

He swallows hard, shaking his head. Don’t go there, Jungkook. Don’t even fucking go there.

But the panic is already curling around his ribs, suffocating, unrelenting.

You’re not here. And right now, that is the worst fucking thing in the world.

Jungkook’s fingers tremble as he redials your number.

Voicemail. Again.

“Fuck.” His breath comes out uneven, panic clawing at his throat. His hands are clammy, his chest tightening with every passing second. Where are you?

His mind is spiraling now, every worst-case scenario flashing through his head. His jaw clenches as he swipes to his contact list calling your friends.

Each time, the same response.

No, I haven’t seen her.

Did you check with—

Wait, what’s going on?

Jungkook grits his teeth, his hand tightening into a fist. His breathing is shallow, his pulse out of control. You weren’t with your friends. You weren’t picking up. You weren’t home.

And he still had no idea where you were.

Jungkook grabs his car keys with shaky hands, his mind racing. He doesn’t know where to go, doesn’t have a plan. All he knows is that he has to find you.

His feet move on instinct, carrying him toward the door. But just as he reaches for the handle, something catches his eye.

A small glint.

His breath stills. His gaze shifts toward the couch, and that’s when he sees it.

Your wedding ring.

Sitting there. Abandoned.

For a moment, everything stops. The pounding in his chest, the rush of his movements. Everything.

The air in the room feels so heavy he might collapse. His fingers twitch at his sides as he stares at the delicate band, his stomach twisting into something painful.

You never took it off. Never.

Jungkook swallows, his throat suddenly dry. He steps forward almost cautiously, like touching it will somehow make this nightmare real.

His hand trembles as he picks it up, the cool metal pressing into his palm..

Jungkook stares at the ring in his palm, his vision blurring as a lump lodges itself in his throat. Tears burn at the corners of his eyes, his chest tightening painfully.

You wouldn’t just leave him like that… would you?

The thought alone knocks the air from his lungs. His grip on the ring tightens as his mind spirals, drowning in questions that only make the ache worse.

Were you thinking about this before today?

How long have you been feeling like this, so alone, so unloved that taking off your ring even crossed your mind?

A sharp breath escapes him, shaky and uneven. His knees buckle, and before he can stop himself, he’s sinking onto the floor, the weight of everything crashing down at once.

The ring feels heavier than it should, pressing into his palm like a cruel reminder of everything he’s neglected, everything he’s taken for granted. He squeezes his eyes shut, exhaling a slow, trembling breath.

He needs to find you. He needs to fix this.

Before it’s too late.

Jungkook exhales shakily, forcing himself to move. His legs feel unsteady, but he pushes through, gripping the wedding ring so tightly it bites into his skin.

Somehow, he manages to stand, his entire body tense with desperation. He stumbles toward the door, his heart pounding, his mind racing with every possibility of where you could be.

But just as his fingers reach for the handle—

The door swings open.

And there you are.

Jungkook freezes, his breath catching in his throat. His entire world narrows to the sight of you standing in front of him.

He crashes into you, arms wrapping around you so tightly it nearly knocks the air from your lungs. His grip is desperate, his hands fisting into your clothes, his entire body pressing against yours like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

You stand there, stunned, your own arms hovering slightly, unsure of what just happened.

"…Jungkook?” your voice comes out confused.

But he just clings to you, burying his face into your neck, his breath warm and uneven against your skin.

You don’t know what’s going on.

But Jungkook?

He feels like he just got his heart beating again. You feel the way his body trembles against yours, his grip impossibly tight, like he’s holding onto you for dear life.

Then, the sound reaches you. A broken, uneven breath, followed by the unmistakable hitch of a sob.

Your heart clenches. “Kook…” Your voice is soft, laced with worry as you try to pull back, just enough to see his face. But he doesn’t let you. His arms only tighten, his body curling into yours, as if letting go would physically hurt him.

Panic bubbles in your chest, your hands instinctively reaching up to cradle his face, your fingers threading into his hair. “Hey… what happened?” Your voice wavers slightly. “Are you okay? You’re scaring me.”

But Jungkook just shakes his head against your shoulder, another shaky breath leaving him.

You don’t understand.

But whatever this is, whatever’s breaking him like this—your own heart aches just watching him fall apart. Your concern deepens with every shaky breath that leaves Jungkook. He’s still clinging to you, his body trembling slightly, his face buried against your shoulder like he’s afraid to let go.

You don’t know what’s wrong, but seeing him like this—Jungkook, your Jungkook—completely unraveling, is enough to make panic rise in your chest.

Gently, you pull back, your hands cupping his face. His skin is warm, slightly damp from his tears, and when his glassy eyes finally meet yours, your stomach twists painfully.

“Come inside,” you whisper, your voice softer now, coaxing. “Please.”

He swallows thickly, nodding ever so slightly, but his grip on you doesn’t fully loosen. You guide him inside anyway, one hand wrapped around his wrist as you lead him toward the couch.

He sits down heavily, elbows resting on his knees, fingers threading through his hair as he exhales shakily. His shoulders are still tense, his whole body radiating something raw and unspoken.

You kneel in front of him, reaching for his hands, but he doesn’t lift his head.

Your worry deepens. “Jungkook… please tell me what’s wrong.” suffocating silence stretches between you. His fingers twitch against his temples, his breath uneven.

“I—” His speaks as his voice cracks slightly. He swallows hard, gripping his knees. “I thought you left me.”

It takes you a moment to fully process the words he let out.

He thought you left him?

Your brows furrow slightly as you shake your head. “Jungkook, I was babysitting Hanuel.”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, searching.

“Hana and Seokjin had a date night,” you explain gently. “They asked me to watch him for a few hours.”

Hanuel, your neighbour's son. Jungkook stares at you as his mind hasn’t caught up yet. You watch as his lips part slightly, his gaze flickering between you and the ring still clutched in his hand.

His fingers tighten around it, his knuckles paling. A beat of silence passes before he swallows thickly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“…then why was this on the couch?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, fragile and uncertain, as if he’s afraid of the answer. And for the first time tonight, you don’t know what to say.

“I..” The word barely escapes your lips before you stand up, turning away from him. You can’t meet his eyes, not when your emotions are still raw, not when the weight of everything is pressing so heavily on your chest.

Jungkook notices immediately. Panic flickers across his face, and in an instant, he’s scrambling up after you. “Wait—baby, please.” His voice is desperate now, thick with emotion, his hands reaching out like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, stepping closer, his tone cracking under the weight of his own guilt. “I—fuck, I forgot—I don’t know how, I don’t even have an excuse, but—” He exhales sharply, shaking his head, his eyes glassy as they plead with yours.

“I never meant to make you feel like this,” he whispers. “I swear, I didn’t.” But you still don’t look at him. And that alone is enough to make his heart sink.

You swallow hard, your arms wrapping around yourself as you stare at the floor. His words, his desperation, his guilt—they all swirl around you, but they don’t erase the ache in your chest.

“Do you even realize how much this hurt?” Your voice is quiet, but the weight of it makes Jungkook flinch. “I spent the entire day thinking—hoping—that maybe you had something planned. That maybe you were just pretending to forget.”

Jungkook’s throat bobs as he steps closer, hesitating before reaching for your hand. You don’t pull away, but you don’t hold onto him either.

“I know,” he whispers. “I know I fucked up, baby. I—I was so caught up in work, I just…” He trails off, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “That’s not an excuse. Nothing is. I should’ve remembered. I should’ve been there.”

You let out a hollow laugh, finally lifting your gaze to meet his. “Jungkook… this isn’t just about today.”

His brows furrow, but he doesn’t interrupt.

You take a shaky breath. “It’s been weeks..maybe even longer—since I felt like your wife instead of just… someone waiting for you to come home.” Your voice wavers, but you push through. “And it’s not that I don’t understand. I do. I’ve always understood. But at what point do I stop being understanding and start being invisible to you?”

Jungkook’s breath catches, his grip on your hand tightening like he’s afraid to let go. “You’re not invisible,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “You never could be.”

“Then why do I feel like I am?”

Silence.

Jungkook shakes his head, his jaw clenching as he exhales unsteadily. “I never wanted to make you feel this way,” he murmurs. “You are everything to me, baby. Everything. I don’t even know who I am without you.”

Your eyes sting, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. “Then show me, Jungkook. Because I can’t keep being the only one fighting for us.” The vulnerability in your voice nearly breaks him.

He’s been losing you, piece by piece, for a while now. And he hadn’t even noticed.

Jungkook feels his stomach drop, the weight of your words hitting harder than any argument, any fight you could have thrown at him. His grip on your hand tightens, but you don’t squeeze back.

He’s losing you.

And it’s not because of one forgotten anniversary—it’s because he hasn’t been here.

He swallows hard. “Baby…” His voice cracks, his free hand reaching up to cup your cheek, but you step back before he can touch you.

The distance, however small, is enough to make his chest ache.

“Tell me, Jungkook,” you whisper, your voice barely holding together. “When was the last time we sat down and had breakfast together? When was the last time you really looked at me—not just kissed me on the forehead before rushing out of the door?” You shake your head, a bitter chuckle escaping. “When was the last time we made love without it feeling like you were trying to release your stress instead of loving me?”

Jungkook’s breath hitches.

You let out a slow exhale, your voice calmer now but even heavier with hurt. “I don’t need grand gestures. I don’t need fancy gifts or a picture-perfect romance. I just… needed you to see me.”

His entire body feels cold. Because the truth is—he doesn’t have an answer.

He’s been so caught up in his responsibilities, his work, his stress, that he’s let the one person who has always been there for him slip through his fingers.

“Fuck.” His voice is raw, his hands running through his hair as he looks at you, really looks at you. At the exhaustion in your eyes, the way your lips tremble slightly like you’re holding back everything.

His heart clenches painfully. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

You hold his gaze for a long moment before whispering, “I don’t know, Jungkook. Did you?”

Jungkook's heart hammers too quickly as he stares at you, at the distance between you, the weight of your words suffocating him.

His hands reach out- cupping your face, his touch desperate, almost shaky. His forehead presses against yours as he exhales a trembling breath, like he’s trying to hold himself together.

“I see you,” he whispers, his voice raw, strained. “I swear to god, I see you, baby. I just..I lost myself somewhere along the way, and I didn’t even realize I was dragging us down with me.”

His thumbs brush over your cheekbones, a silent plea laced in his touch. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

Your heart clenches, but you don’t push him away. You should- you should make him sit with this, make him feel what it’s been like for you all this time. But then his grip tightens, his voice breaking.

“Please, baby.” His lips hover just above yours, not quite touching, his breath warm against your skin. “Tell me it’s not too late.”

His vulnerability shakes you to your core.

You close your eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to steady yourself. “I don’t want to lose us either, Jungkook,” you whisper. “But I can’t keep being the only one holding on.”

Jungkook shakes his head instantly. “You’re not. You won’t be.” His lips ghost over your forehead before he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “Let me prove it to you. Please.”

His desperation is tangible, seeping into every word, every touch. And for the first time tonight, you wonder if maybe, just maybe—he really does see you now.

Jungkook watches you, searching for something—anything in your eyes that tells him he hasn’t completely lost you.

Before doubt can settle in, he takes your hand, pressing it over his chest, right where his heart is hammering wildly. “Feel that?” he whispers. “That’s what you do to me, baby. Always.”

Your fingers twitch against his shirt, but you don’t pull away. You don’t move at all, just staring up at him, your expression unreadable.

He swallows hard. “I know I don’t say it enough. I know I don’t show it enough, but fuck, Y/n—” His hands tighten around yours, his voice barely above a breath. “There is nothing in this world that matters more to me than you.”

You let out a slow exhale, your gaze flickering, like you want to believe him. like a part of you does, but the hurt is still too fresh. So he gives you more.

“I’ll fix this,” he promises, his thumb brushing soft circles over your wrist. “Not with some last-minute bullshit—but with me. With us.”

His voice drops lower, thick with emotion. “Just tell me it’s not too late.” Your lips part slightly, but you don’t speak. Instead, you finally—finally press your palm flat against his chest, feeling the way his heart beats erratically beneath your touch.

It’s enough to break something inside Jungkook. His grip tightens as he leans in, his lips brushing against your temple, hesitantly then to your cheek—as if he’s still afraid you’ll slip away.

And when you don’t, when you let him, he exhales a shaky breath, his forehead resting against yours once more.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Like if he says it enough, he can make up for all the times he didn’t. And maybe, just maybe—you’ll believe him again.

Jungkook’s breath is warm against your skin, his forehead still pressed against yours, his grip on you unwavering. His words linger in the air between you. raw, desperate, filled with a love that had always been there, even when he’d failed to show it.

You swallow hard, blinking against the tears clouding your vision. He’s waiting—watching you so intently, so hopelessly, as if your next words will either put him back together or completely shatter him.

You take a shaky breath. “Jungkook…” Your voice wavers, and his grip tightens instinctively. “I love you too.”

A sharp exhale leaves him, his entire body sinking slightly in relief. But before he can say anything, you continue. “But this hurt,” you whisper. “More than you realize.”

Jungkook stiffens, nodding quickly, his hands cupping your face again, his thumbs brushing away the tears that slip down your cheeks. “I know, baby. I know. And I hate myself for it.” His voice cracks, his jaw clenching before he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead.

You let your eyes flutter shut for a second, exhaling slowly. “I don’t want promises, Jungkook,” you murmur. “I just… I need to feel like I matter to you again.”

His hands tremble slightly as they slide down, wrapping around yours. He lifts them to his lips, pressing gentle, reverent kisses to each of your knuckles, his dark eyes never leaving yours.

“You do,” he whispers. “More than anything. And I’m going to spend every damn day proving that to you.” His voice comes out steady with a determined love.

and this time you don’t just hear him but believe him too. even if a little.

Jungkook presses another loving kiss against your knuckles. But before he can lose himself completely, you gently murmur, “Have you eaten?”

The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. He shakes his head, gaze still searching yours. “No… I—"

“Go freshen up,” you say softly, stepping back just a little. “We’ll eat together.”

His fingers twitch against yours, hesitating to let go, but eventually, he nods. With one last glance—like he’s making sure you’re really here, he pulls away and heads toward the shower.

While he’s gone, you move to the kitchen, setting out dinner in quiet contemplation. The ache in your chest hasn’t completely faded, but there’s something else now-

a warmth that wasn’t there before.

----

By the time Jungkook emerges, hair damp, dressed in a fresh t-shirt and sweatpants, you’ve already placed the food on the table.

He hesitates for only a second before joining you, sliding into his chair. “Thank you,” he murmurs, voice softer now.

You nod, offering a small smile as you take a seat. The conversation is light, effortless. Jungkook fills the silence, stealing glances at you like he’s still memorizing you all over again. And through it all, his hand never leaves yours, his thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles against your skin.

After dinner, he helps with the dishes, working beside you in quiet understanding. The air between you feels lighter, yet still fragile, like something delicate being pieced back together.

Jungkook sets the last dish onto the drying rack, wiping his hands on the towel before turning to you. There’s a soft, almost hopeful look in his eyes, like he’s clinging to this moment.

You step away, hesitating for just a second before opening the refrigerator. Jungkook watches in silence as you carefully pull out the cake, placing on the counter, your fingers grazing the edges of the plate, before finally speaking.

“I…I’d made this.”

The words are quiet, but they hit harder than any raised voice ever could. Jungkook’s entire body stiffening as guilt crashes into him all over again. His eyes flicker to the cake- to the careful details, the effort, the thought you had put into it, for him. And suddenly, it feels like the walls are caving in.

His throat tightens. His fingers curl at his sides. He can’t look at you. He doesn’t deserve to. Tears gather in his eyes, blurring his vision, his heart breaking all over again, not just because he forgot today, but because he had broken you in so many ways without even realizing it.

And that? That’s something he doesn’t know how to forgive himself for.

“Jungkook..”, your voice barely above a whisper, but it cuts through the heavy silence like a knife.

He wants to look at you, wants to say something—anything, but he can’t. His head remains bowed, his hands gripping the edge of the counter, as if holding himself together takes everything in him.

You take a small step forward, the space between you feeling larger than it actually is. His silence is deafening.

“Jungkook,” you say again, a little firmer this time.

His lips part, a shaky breath slipping through, but no words come out. He wants to speak, to apologize again, to tell you how much he loves you, to somehow fix this- but his throat feels tight, his chest heavy.

He doesn’t know if words are enough.

“I… I’m so fucking sorry, baby,” Jungkook chokes out, his voice trembling as he finally speaks. His hands shake at his sides, his eyes still glassy with unshed tears. “I’ve been an asshole—a terrible husband. I don’t even know how to make this right.” His breath stutters, his words spilling out faster now, raw and desperate.

“I wouldn’t even be surprised if you left me,” he continues, shaking his head. “You should’ve. You deserve better. I—I can’t believe I—”

“Jungkook.”

You don’t let him finish.

Instead, you reach up, cupping his face with both hands, your thumbs brushing away the tears that have already begun to fall. His rambling is cut off as you rise onto your toes.

A gentle kiss on his lips.

Soft. Loving.

Tear-streaked and real.

Jungkook exhales shakily against your lips, his whole body melting into yours. His hands find your waist, holding onto you like you’re the only thing keeping him upright.

The kiss is slow, there's no urgency. Just you and him, emotions bare. Tears continue to slip down your cheeks, mixing with his, salty and warm, but neither of you pull away. Because in this moment, there’s no need for words.

When you finally pull away, your forehead rests against his, both of you breathing heavily, your tears still wet against each other’s skin. Jungkook’s grip on your waist is firm as if afraid to let go. His lips part to speak, but before he can, you whisper,

“You’re not a terrible husband, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s eyes glisten with more unshed tears, his lips pressing into a thin line, unable to speak. You wipe his tears away with your thumbs, offering him the smallest smile. “Just… love me better, okay?”

His throat bobs as he swallows hard, nodding again, more determined this time. “I will.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but you believe him.

You press one last gentle kiss to his cheek before stepping back, glancing at the cake still sitting on the counter. “Come on,” you say, nudging him lightly. “Let’s cut this before it melts.”

Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle, wiping at his face as he nods. He steps beside you, his hand instinctively finding yours again as you both move toward the small cake. The two of you cut into it together, Jungkook’s fingers lacing through yours around the knife handle. He doesn’t let go, even as you both take small bites in comfortable silence.

Once the plates are cleared, you tug at his wrist, nodding toward the bedroom. “Come to bed?”

Jungkook exhales, relief washing over his features as he nods. “Yeah.”

A few minutes later, you’re both under the covers, warmth surrounding you as Jungkook pulls you against his chest. His arms wrap tightly around you, his breath fanning against the top of your head as he whispers,

“I love you.”

This time, you don’t hesitate to say it back.

“I love you too, Jungkook.”

And for the first time in weeks, you fall asleep in his arms, where you’ve always belonged.

Jungkook’s fingers still tremble against your skin. Even as he holds you, his grip is laced with hesitance, a silent fear lingering beneath the warmth of his touch. It’s in the way his hands press into your back yet remain careful, as if he’s afraid of holding on too tightly.

You can feel the erratic thud of his heart beneath your palm, his breaths uneven, his chest rising and falling as if he’s struggling to keep himself steady.

And something about that, about him—makes your own heart ache.

Slowly, you lift your head from his chest, your eyes locking onto his in the dim glow of the room. His lips part slightly, his gaze unreadable, but the moment you lean in, his breath catches.

You kiss him.

It starts soft, so gentle, full of longing. Filled with everything you can’t put into words.

Jungkook melts into it instantly, his grip on you tightening, pulling you impossibly closer. The warmth of his lips, the slight hitch in his breath when you press harder. It sends a familiar heat curling through you.

The kiss deepens, your fingers gripping his t-shirt with urgency, needing to feel more. It’s desperate, heady, the space between you charged with something deeper than just want—something raw, something that had been missing for too long.

Jungkook pulls back gently. His forehead stays pressed against yours, both of you panting softly, but his hands shake slightly as they hold you in place.

His lips part, his breath uneven. “I… we shouldn’t…” He swallows hard, voice thick with hesitation. “I mean… I don’t want you to think I’m gonna fix this with sex.”

His words cut through the haze of warmth between you, pulling you both back in reality. You understand. Because even now—even now, he’s afraid. Afraid that this isn’t enough, that he isn’t enough.

Your eyes soften as you take in his hesitance, the uncertainty in his gaze, the way his breath trembles against your skin.

You reach up, your fingers threading gently through his hair. “I’m never gonna think like that, Kook,” you murmur, your voice quiet but sure.

His lips part slightly, his brows still knitted in concern, but before he can say anything, you lean in again. This time, the kiss is softer, filled with nothing but love.

You linger for a moment, your lips brushing against his as you whisper, “I just… I need you.” Another soft kiss. “Please.”

Jungkook exhales sharply, his entire body shuddering under the weight of your words.

And just like that, whatever hesitation he had left—it’s gone.

Your breaths grow uneven as your lips move against his, the heat between you intensifying with every passing second.

Jungkook shifts, his body hovering over yours, his weight pressing down just enough to make you feel him. His hands slip beneath the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing, his touch still hesitant, fingertips ghosting over your waist like you're nothing less than fragile.

You tug at his shirt, a silent plea, and Jungkook obeys without question, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. Before he can think, you pull him back in, capturing his lips in another deep, hungry kiss.

A quiet groan escapes him, his hands finally exploring freely, pressing against your skin, feeling the warmth beneath his palms. His lips leave yours only to trail down your neck, his breath warm as he presses soft, lingering kisses there.

You shiver when he reaches the collar of your shirt, your own hands moving to help him remove it. Dark, love-filled eyes roam over every inch of your skin, his lips parting slightly, as if he’s trying to find the words but nothing he could say would ever be enough. Still, he tries.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, voice thick with awe. “So fucking perfect.”

Your breath catches when he lowers himself again, his lips planting soft, reverent kisses along your collarbone, trailing lower over your shoulder, your chest. Your husband's mouth mapping you like you’re something sacred.

His lips slowly wrap around one breast, his tongue flicking teasingly before sucking softly. A moan escapes you, your fingers tangling into his hair, tugging lightly as he hums against your skin. His other hand moves to your neglected breast, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak as he keeps mouthing sweet nothings against you.

“You’re everything,” he whispers between kisses, his voice muffled against your skin. “I love you so much, baby.”

And as the heat between you builds, his touch grows bolder. A desperate whimper escapes your lips as your fingers tangle deeper into Jungkook’s hair, your body arching toward him, silently pleading for more.

He groans against your skin, the sound low and warm, vibrating through you. “Patience, baby,” he murmurs, pressing another lingering kiss to your chest before trailing lower, his lips tracing the curves of your body. “Let me take my time… let me make love to you.”

The way he says it, love—makes your stomach tighten, your heart aching as much as your body craves him. His hands glide down your waist, slow and purposeful, before slipping between your legs. His fingers find the damp fabric of your panties, pressing just lightly enough to make you gasp. Your hips lift instinctively, chasing his touch, and Jungkook groans at the feeling.

His dark eyes meet yours, silently asking for permission. You nod, unable to form words, and that’s all he needs.

Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he tugs your panties down, dragging them slowly along your legs before discarding them somewhere behind him. His gaze never leaves you as he lowers himself further, trailing kisses down your stomach, over the sensitive skin of your hips.

He settles between your legs. You feel completely bare under his intense gaze, the way his lips part slightly, his eyes darkening as he drinks you in.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice filled with something reverent, something devoted. His hands spread your thighs wider, his thumbs brushing along your skin in slow, soothing circles.

“My wife.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, making your core clench in anticipation.

Finally, he closes his mouth around you. One long, slow stroke of his tongue, and you fall apart instantly, a breathless moan slipping from your lips as your head tilts back against the pillows.

Jungkook hums against you, pleased, his hands gripping your thighs as he licks another slow, teasing stripe through your folds. “So fucking sweet,” he groans, the heat of his breath against your slick skin making your body tremble. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

He isn't just making love, he's devouring you.

Jungkook hums against you, the vibration sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine. His hands grip your thighs, holding you open as his tongue moves with slow, deliberate strokes. learning you all over again, savoring every little gasp and shudder that escapes you.

“Jungkook—” Your voice is breathless, almost pleading, your fingers tightening in his hair, tugging him closer.

He groans at that, the sound reverberating through your core as he laps at you with more purpose. His tongue flicks over your clit, teasing, testing, before he sucks gently, making your back arch off the bed.

“Fuck—” You whimper, your thighs threatening to close around his head, but his strong hands keep you spread wide, completely at his mercy.

His lips brushing your sensitive skin as he pulls back just enough to look up at you. His lips are slick, his dark eyes burning with desire.

Your cheeks burn, he dives back in, this time with more urgency. His tongue moves in tight circles, alternating between slow, teasing strokes and deeper, firmer licks that have your breath hitching.

One hand slides up your stomach, fingers splaying across your skin before reaching your breast, rolling a nipple between his fingers. The combined sensation makes your thighs tremble, a moan tearing from your lips as your hips buck against his mouth.

Jungkook groans, clearly enjoying how responsive you are, his grip on you tightening as he eats you out like it’s his last meal. He flicks his tongue over your clit again, then sucks, harder this time, sending sparks shooting through your body.

“-fuck, Jungkook—” Your head tilts back, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure builds, coiling tight in your stomach.

He pulls back just enough to murmur against you, “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

The heat inside you is unbearable now, hot and consuming. You nod desperately, your moans spilling freely as you grip his hair, your body teetering on the edge. Jungkook doesn’t stop. He pushes you closer, his mouth working you over with expert precision, his hands holding you steady as your body starts to tremble.

“Come for me, baby,” he whispers against your heat. “Let me taste you.”

And with one final flick of his tongue, you shatter. Pleasure crashes over you, your back arching, thighs trembling as you moan his name like a prayer. Jungkook groans, drinking in everything you give him, his hands stroking your body as he helps you ride it out.

Only when your body goes slack does he finally pull away, pressing soft kisses against your inner thighs, his voice thick with pride and adoration. “You’re so perfect,” he breathes between kisses, his voice thick with adoration. “My love. My wife.”

Jungkook moves up, trailing kisses along your body, over your stomach, your ribs, your collarbone. When he reaches your lips, he captures them in a deep, languid kiss, his hands cradling your face like you’re something fragile, something cherished.

Your fingers roam over his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles before moving lower, brushing over his abdomen until you reach the hardness straining against his sweats.

A groan rumbles from his chest at your touch, his hips twitching into your palm as you cup him, feeling just how ready he is.

“Baby…” he breathes against your lips, voice thick with want. You tug at the waistband of his pants, wordlessly asking for more. Jungkook obliges, sitting back just enough to push them down, kicking them off entirely.

He’s fully hard, the sight of him making your stomach tighten, heat pooling between your legs again. But before you can even reach for him Jungkook takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. The intimacy of it overwhelming.

His other hand moves between your bodies, guiding himself to your entrance, his eyes locked on yours, searching, making sure-

With a final nod from you, he pushes in, slow and careful, stretching you inch by inch.

A soft moan escapes your lips, but Jungkook kisses you instantly, swallowing the sound, his own groan muffled against your mouth as he sinks deeper. The moment he’s fully inside, he stills, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing you in. And as he holds you close, as your bodies mold together so seamlessly, you realize- this isn't just sex.

This is home.

Jungkook moves slowly, each roll of his hips deep and deliberate, as if he’s trying to make up for every moment he let slip away. His body is pressed flush against yours, warmth seeping into every inch of your skin, his breath shaky against your lips as he kisses you between each movement.

Your fingers dig softly into his back, nails pressing just enough to ground yourself in the overwhelming sensation of him. One hand moves to his hair, your fingers threading through the strands, tugging gently as his lips travel from your mouth to your jaw, down your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses that make your heart ache.

It’s slow, it’s deep, it’s love.

A feel a faint tremble against your body.

Something warm and wet against your neck where Jungkook has buried his face.

Your breath catches as realization dawns- he’s crying. Tears gather in your own eyes without warning, the sheer weight of the moment crashing over you all at once.

You tighten your hold on him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you press a soft kiss into his hair. “Kook…” you whisper, your voice barely holding steady.

He shudders at your touch, at the way you hold him, like you’re not just letting him fall apart but falling apart with him.

“I—” His voice cracks as he exhales shakily, his thrusts faltering for a moment. “I’m so sorry, baby.” His lips find your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he presses kisses there—apology after apology, praise after praise.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmurs between kisses, his words thick with emotion. “You always have been.” A tear slips down your cheek as you cup his face, guiding him up until his forehead rests against yours.

“I know,” you whisper, voice trembling. “I know, Jungkook.”

His lips crash against yours again, the kiss slow and deep, his movements resuming, gentle but full of something raw, something unspoken. His hands grip your waist tighter, his body moving in perfect sync with yours, as if this moment is rewriting everything.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper, voice laced with love. “I’ll always have you.”

Jungkook shudders, gripping you tighter, his lips pressing against your shoulder, his movements slowing but never stopping. You can feel the love in every touch, every kiss, every whispered breath against your skin.

And when the pleasure builds to its peak, you come undone together, your bodies melting into one as waves of warmth crash over you. His name spills from your lips, his deep groan following right after, his arms holding you so tight you swear he never plans on letting go.

Silence lingers, only the sound of heavy breathing filling the space. Then, Jungkook shifts, lifting his head just enough to press the softest kiss to your lips.

“I love you,” he murmurs, voice hoarse but full of devotion. “I don’t deserve you… but I swear, I’ll spend my life proving that I do.”

You cup his face, your thumb brushing away the remnants of dried tears. “Just love me like this, Jungkook,” you whisper, voice steady. “That’s all I need.”

His hands tightening around you as his forehead presses against yours. “I’ll love you more,” he vows, his voice breaking slightly. “More than this, more than anything. Always.” His words settle deep in your chest, warm and real, and when he pulls you impossibly closer, tucking you into his arms, you believe him.

His heartbeat is steady now, no longer frantic with fear. Just warm, solid, home.

As sleep begins to pull you under, you hear him whisper one last thing against your hair.

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

your morning routine had been the same for the past 8 months. you’d set out your outfit the night before, steamed or ironed, usually consisting of a pencil skirt or a matching suit. your hair, typically bone straight, would sit behind your ears and your makeup minimal.

breakfast was the same, toast and butter with a big glass of water, before heading into the office you had been working at for less than a year. you were a data analyst in the security and intelligence division, one in a team of 5. your job consisted of sifting through encrypted files, checking surveillance logs and preparing reports when asked.

you were completely, and entirely invisible. no one of importance, and certainly not someone people noticed at first glass. you liked to sit on your lunch break quietly, listening to your best friend, yejin, who just by chance worked in the marketing division, as she chatted away. you’d then return to your desk, the only woman in your team, as the other men chatted animatedly whilst completely ignoring you.

not that you minded - it offered you a sense of comfort to know that your routine was the same day in and day out. you came from a household where every day felt like a minefield, with parents that were dismissive and plain mean, favouring your older sister at every chance. when you’d told them you got your job, they didn’t believe you, thinking you must have lied or embellished the truth. there was no way their second daughter, y/n, had gotten a step into such a prestigious career whilst their prized jewel didn’t.

you were a calm person by nature, and you preferred to stick to yourself, with the only exception being yejin. you didn’t have time to date, what with the long hours you worked, and weren’t really sure how to put yourself out there. y/n, the enigma - always quiet, always silent.

“god, he’s such a prick.” yejin grumbled whilst eating her sandwich.

the both of you sat in the canteen, whilst she grumbled about your colleague. she was incredibly protective of you, biting into her food with a huff.

you grinned. “yeah, he is, but it’s fine. it’s not like i pay him any mind.”

“y/n do this, y/n do that. does he get that he literally has a fucking job? that he actually has to do something instead of just handing his tasks off onto everyone else?”

“it’s okay, i already have the report half done. he just needs to hand it to mr jeon’s assistant and then it’s all sorted.” you reassured with a shake of your head. “last time, he messed it up really bad and i’d rather do it myself then let him make us all look like idiots again.” you teased.

she continued her grumbles, sending death stares over at the unassuming man from across the room.

“anything new over at marketing?”

she stopped her nasty looks, returning your gaze with a little sigh. “mr min walked through our office today. he looked so good.”

you giggled under your breath as she twirled her hair, recounting her memory. it was no secret to you that min yoongi was practically the love of her life, and she’d excitedly tell you about the way they’d make eye contact whenever he was in the room.

“yeah? did he look at you again?”

“y/n, we had eye contact for a whole 10 seconds. fuck.” she groaned, chin dropping into her hand. “that basically means he’s in love with you.” you quipped at her, making her giggle.

the two of you chatted quietly whilst you ate.

“are you ready for the meeting later? know it’s gonna be a big one, i’ve been nervous all morning.”

“yeah, i don’t think i’ve ever been in a room with all 7 of them before. i’m kinda scared.” you admitted with a little laugh, pushing your hair behind your ear. yejin had been at the company for over 2 years, meaning this was her 2nd annual meeting whereas this was your first.

“it can get intense.” she admitted, with a sigh. “just be lucky you’re not speaking, i’m representing my team because our team leader is sick, the lucky bastard.”

this earned her a laugh, making her grin wide.

soon enough, you were both heading down to the large meeting room, shuffling in and going to your corners. you sat alongside your team, the 4 men beside you chatting and joking around whilst you sat in between them, quiet. you were nervous, even more so at seeing how laidback your team leader was being. you’d never actually met your head ceo, but the rumours surrounding him floored you each time.

soon enough, the room was quietening down. the atmosphere was beginning to shift, the buzzing warmth becoming cold as all the noise seemed to be sucked out. you couldn’t pin point the collective emotion amongst everyone, but the second the large doors opened, you finally understood all of the things you’d heard before.

each ceo walked in, taking a seat at the front of the room, where 7 seats sat. it was the one on the end that caught your attention, as you felt your breath halt in your throat. perfectly styled, dark hair framing a youthful face that looked too hard, and yet too soft at the same time. large eyes that felt cold, no warmth to be seen as he ran them over each and every one of you.

for a moment, the two of you made eye contact, causing you to look away almost instantly, feeling your cheeks colour at the mere sight of him.

unbeknownst to you, he had his eyes trained on you, savouring the way your chest rose and fall slowly, the sleekness of your hair and the plumpness of your bottom lip. who were you, jungkook wondered? were you new? you were sat in his department, indicating you were his worker and yet this was the first time he’d ever noticed you, pretty little thing dressed in a skirt and shirt.

he looked away once he realised he was all but staring, returning his eyes to the documents in front of him. for the first time in perhaps years, jungkook’s heart was beating out of his chest, his fingers shaking slightly. what the fuck?

you too could feel a shift in your stomach. you knew he’d be handsome to some degree, but this felt like your entire life had been shifted on its axis - this was jeon jungkook? your eyes flickered to yejin, only to find her in an open ogling match with min yoongi.

you began nibbling on your lip as one of the other ceo’s began talking, addressing everyone in the room. your eyes would flicker over to jungkook every few minutes, only to find him already staring, fingers brushing against the documents in front of him. with every look, he’d sit, more alert, his senses at an all time high.

yejin’s group was discussing their new proposed marketing strategy, of course, spearheaded by herself. she had a talent at commanding the room, making sure every single person had their eyes trained on her. park jimin, head of her division, was smirking broadly by the end of her presentation, as if to brag to his fellow leaders that his employees were undoubtedly the best. yoongi’s expression seemed very pleased.

you gave her a small smile once she sat down, earning you a secret wink. jungkook watched the interaction hungrily, eyes igniting at the sight of your expression changing, an ease wallowing through you that he himself had yet to see. you were both an enigma and an answer, and in the mere minutes he had laid his eyes on you, he could feel himself growing more and more intrigued.

after 15 minutes, it was your team’s turn to report on your current research and findings. your team leader stood, and you almost winced at his overzealous ego coming to the forefront immediately. this was hardly the environment for it.

he spoke about general findings for the first 5 minutes, to which you quietly made notes of jungkook’s comments for internal discussions later, not lifting your head.

“our department recently identified a series of anomalies within set data patterns, across different networks. we have no reason to believe that they’re critical, but it’s within my personal opinion that we should monitor them closely, in case of an infiltration.” minho, your team leader, announced, chest puffed.

your gaze slowly flickered to that of jungkook, who was looking over at the slides you had created with a quiet sense of intrigue. “which networks?”

minho’s face dropped slightly, immediately shuffling through the papers in his hands to find the answer. “research and development, mainly, sir. although we did notice some anomalies present in the finance department too.”

jungkook’s gaze narrowed dangerously, as he looked at each and every one of you carefully. this wasn’t a small claim, this would imply an internal breach, a mole from the inside. his gaze on you remained the longest, making you nibble on your bottom lip nervously.

“how were these anomalies detected?”

that was where your team leader stuttered. you hadn’t actually told him how you’d discovered it, as it wasn’t entirely important, but then again, you also didn’t think he’d take credit for it. your eyes flickered up to look at him, watching as a bead of milky sweat began forming at his hairline.

“well..our…the data suggests that..” he stuttered, allowing for jungkook to tilt his head in annoyance. “and what was the extent of these anomalies - are they thought to be internal breaches, or external?”

he was opening his mouth and closing it rapidly, as if flabbergasted and too nervous to even conjure up a normal answer. your other team members sunk into their seats in immense humiliation, the entire board of members watching your group’s representation absolutely flailing due to his own self serving ego.

“our analyst handled the specifics.” your other colleague, juyeon claimed, as a bid to help his friend.

“your analyst.” jungkook repeated slowly, words heavy. everyone in the room gulped, namjoon even offering a look of interest over to his younger business partner. “then bring me the one who ran said specifics.”

the room went silent. he was referring to you. judging from the way his eyes fell on your figure with a primal look, it seemed he knew it too.

“now.”

he didn’t raise his voice, didn’t need to. the sheer power in the treble of his tone was enough to have your hand raising in a meek manner, your introverted nature screaming out into the void as every single pair of eyes in the room fell on you.

you were too nervous to look away from jungkook, his gaze demanding without needing to speak, and you could tell he knew he had you pinned to your seat.

“what flagged the irregularities?”

you began speaking, but your voice cracked, causing a deep flush to form on your cheeks. you cleared your throat, shaking hands behind your back.

“the timestamps didn’t match up, sir. the transfer delays didn’t match the server’s internal clock, only by half a second, but it was consistent enough to be flagged. i ran a secondary check, and ruled out any network lags. i believe someone might be trying to mask any internal movement.” you managed to get out, though your voice was shaky and lacked confidence.

jungkook nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair as he absorbed your answer.

“why wasn’t this escalated to me sooner?” he asked.

you could feel something drop in your stomach. you had done everything right, you’d even put this on minho’s desk first thing when you found out about it, but he’d probably waited until now to showcase it in hopes of brownie points in front of his boss.

“i-i..”, you nervously shuffled your feet, “i..did flag it to my team leader immediately once i had figured out the data was compromised, sir. i don’t have clearance to report it higher and i was assured it would be passed along immediately.”

you hadn’t said minho’s name, a weak bid to protect your colleague from his impending reprehend and jungkook could see right through it. his eyes narrowed, noticing the way your nerves were biting into you.

“you were told wrong.” jungkook affirmed, voice flat whilst his gaze remained intense. “from today onwards, you bring your findings directly to me. i expect them on my desk immediately.”

you nodded, before jungkook allowed you to take a seat. your shoulders were lifted as you desperately tried to calm your racing heart, a lump forming in your throat - you had advertently called your team leader out for lying whilst addressing a, potentially, company wide data leak that had been ongoing for the past two weeks.

the meeting had been completed. you looked over at yejin who offered you a reassuring smile, one that had your stomach relaxing immediately as you ushered your way out, heading out back to your desk.

you walked into your department, everyone rolling their necks from the tension the meeting provided. you could feel your own shoulders slump, excited to retreat to your personal corner when you were rudely intercepted.

“what the fuck was that?” minho hissed, standing in your line of view as he stepped in front of you.

you could feel yourself backing up, your eyes growing wide. he had never spoken to you like that before. “w-what?”

“do you think that’s funny? humiliating me in front of everyone so you could get your 5 minutes of fame?” he stepped closer to you, with full intention of intimidating you.

you winced as though you were physically struck, shaking your head instantly. “no! i would never do that, i’m so sorry, that wasn’t my intention at all, i really respect you, minho, i’d never wanna make you feel that way.”

he scoffed at you, your rambles doing very little to appease his too large, now bruised ego. his hand gripped your wrist harshly, pulling you in closer to stop you from inching backwards.

“you just had to open your mouth, didn’t you?” he gritted out, venom laced into every word.

“i only answered what he asked.” you whispered, your eyes wide and teary.

his laugh was sharp, quiet but dangerous. “let me make one thing clear to you, y/n.” he tensed his fingers around your wrist tightly, causing you to whimper. “stay out of my way next time, or i’ll make your life a living hell. that’s a promise.”

you nodded shakily, causing him to let go of your wrist and straighten out. he looked around the office, offering a loud chuckle. “good job out there, y/n. knew we could count on you.”

chills ran down your spine as you watched him go into his office, tears pilling at your lash line. you took a seat at your desk, clutching the soreness of your wrist, feeling more shaken up than ever. you looked up, only momentarily, making eye contact with a figure at the other end of the room.

jungkook’s secretary, miyeon. tall, with legs that went on for miles, cold eyes hidden behind carefully structured glasses and a suit tailored to her body perfectly. she was the epitome of class, and though she was jungkook’s right hand woman, she was also the ears and eyes of the place. you’d never spoken to her beyond handing her reports, where she’d thank you curtly before returning to her work.

having her eyes on you, confirming that she saw the entire interaction, both scared and relieved you. the look she gave you was fierce - it was a look of imposing justice. you nervously blinked away the salty tears, quickly looking down at your desk before rolling your wrist, not noticing her walk away with anger visible in each step.

it took miyeon all but 2 minutes to make it to jungkook’s office, not bothering to knock as she strolled in leisurely. seokjin sat on his couch, newspaper in hand whilst the office owner sat at his desk, reading the reports from the meeting.

“you shouldn’t just walk in without knocking.” jin murmured; a teasing tilt to his voice.

“yeah? who’s gonna stop me, you?” she countered, not missing a beat. his eyes trailed her curves, shamelessly checking out her ass.

jungkook rolled his eyes, not bothering to look up. “you guys aren’t allowed to flirt in my office, how many times do i have to say that?”

seokjin scoffed. “impossible. she’s my wife, what else am i supposed to do?”

he rolled his eyes again.

“i have a purpose here, we can flirt later honey.” she promised, making the older man grin, going back to his newspaper.

“what is it, miyeon?”

jungkook had appointed her as his secretary with utter ease. there were few people in his life that he trusted explicitly; but seokjin’s bride was at the top of the list - they’d all known eachother for years, and they were a match made in heaven. she was strong willed but fair, the perfect assistant for any ceo.

she didn’t answer, simply grabbing his laptop and signing into the cctv sightings. she put in the area code for the camera that surrounded your desk, and played the past 5 minutes from your entrance to the attack made by minho.

“you just made that poor girl the number one target of her department.” she raised her eyebrow, whilst turning his laptop screen towards the two men.

jungkook’s eyes narrowed sharply, watching how you nursed your wrist at your desk and wiped your eyes quickly, as a means to quietly absorb whatever had just happened.

“get hobi, this fucker needs to be fired immediately. he needs to send one of his management employees over so they can discuss next steps.” jin grumbled, clearly disgusted with what he had just seen.

miyeon rolled her eyes. “if you think this will end through him being fired, then you’re an idiot.”

“you wound me.” he pouted. she couldn’t help but grin slightly.

jungkook wasn’t speaking, instead watching the camera as it now operated live. he could see you sniffling, hiding away whilst you typed away at your desk, no doubt working on something meant for his eyes.

“what, then?” he hoarsely asked.

she wasn’t a fool. she could sense that he had an interest in you, had noticed it the second his eyes had laid on you during the meeting, as though he had finally seen someone for the first time. it was a look she hadn’t seen from the younger man before, and to a trained eye like her own, she knew it to be something beyond intrigue.

“you send a message.”

—

monday morning had rolled around pretty quickly, to which the force minho had inflicted on your wrist had now become an arrangement of vibrant purples and blues. you were still incredibly shaken up, confiding to yejin who had one single purpose - to punch the bastard in his nose until he bled. you knew this was about to be the worst monday of your life, what with having to face your team leader; and now having dinner with your parents at their home. your shoulders were slumped upon arrival at your job, wanting to stay as invisible as humanly possible.

that was a futile dream. within seconds of walking into the large office, you noticed a few people looking at you interestingly, making you raise your shoulders subconsciously. you passed minho’s office, eyebrows furrowing when you noticed it was bare and empty; as though he had never even existed. hovering by the doorway, you turned to look at the general communal space, where your other team members had their desks and they were all avoiding eye contact with you. had everyone found out?

your stomach dropped completely, walking over to your desk with a pounding heart. you just wanted to forget that friday had even happened, and you were hoping desperately no one had noticed. once arriving at your desk, you noticed a simple note placed on your keyboard, waiting for you.

“come to my office,

jeon jungkook”

your hands shook. mr jeon was inviting you to his office? did this mean you were being fired? you tried not causing a commotion last week, you didn’t even want anyone to find out, wanted to be a fly on the wall with ease but it seemed life had a different plan for you. you bit your bottom lip, feeling emotional already as you simply turned on your heels, walking to his office.

it felt like a death sentence, a confirmation that something was about to change, that the 8 months of comfort and solitude you had created for yourself were officially over. your legs carried you, whilst your mind drifted elsewhere, eyes falling to miyeon who sat at her own desk just outside jungkook’s personal quarters with a stern look.

“good morning.” you quietly murmured, clearing your throat a little. “mr jeon said he wanted to see me?”

her gaze flickered up to meet you, and you couldn’t help but notice the warmth in her eyes - not pity, but genuine niceties. “of course, y/n. head on in.”

you nodded, tucking a lone strand of hair behind your ear before doing exactly that. you knocked first, of course, before popping in, nervously closing the door behind you.

you’d never actually been in here before, and you couldn’t help but appreciate the decor, alongside the incredibly handsome man who sat in it. dark walls, oak and paper - the mere scent of his office felt soothing to you, your shoulders slumping with ease.

jungkook watched you, albeit curiously. he had spent the weekend researching you to an inch of your life, using skills and methods that were anything but legal - alas, he had discovered everything about you. you were as sweet as you appeared, and it made him want to touch you, to see if you were real, tangible even. he’d found out everything, from education, your ex boyfriends; even your tension filled relationship with your parents and sister. unfortunately for him, he had left his research feeling fucking enamoured.

“you wanted to see me, mr jeon.” you nervously said, now stood in front of his desk.

you were drinking him up. a tight black suit, catered to his measurements perfectly. a vision.

his eyes met yours, and at first, he didn’t speak. his eyes were roaming over every inch of you, evidently absorbing everything about you. he liked this outfit, cream blouse and black skirt, liked how he could see the shape of your curves.

“y/n.” he hummed, as though he was tasting your name on his tongue.

“yes, sir.”

jungkook leaned back in his chair, gaze meeting yours once more. “you’ve been with us for 8 months now, yes?”

you nodded. “yes, sir.”

you could feel his stare in your stomach, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to look away, as though you were entirely tethered to it. it seemed outrageous to feel like this, but you assumed you weren’t the only one, he had an aura around him that people must gravitate towards, you thought to yourself. no wonder he was a ceo.

“8 months.” he repeated, quietly to himself. his jaw was tense. “and yet, not once have i seen you, heard your name, haven’t received so much as a simple report with your name on it. until last week.”

you blinked at him, shifting from foot to foot.

“i-i..handed all of my work in to my team leader, sir, i’m so sorry if i overstepped last week, it won’t happen again.”

“you did your job.” he cut in, firmly. his gaze flickered from your eyes down to your lips, watching the way you were nibbling on the bottom, no doubt nervous. “only person on that entire team that did.”

you weren’t sure how to respond, but it was as though he could read you with ease. jungkook stood from his chair, deliberately slow, walking over to you like time was of no real importance. he was standing in front of you, entirely too close and any normal individual would have stepped back to maintain some professional space between you both. unfortunately, you were not that person.

you could smell his cologne, a mixture of wood and earth, greedily breathing it in as it colonised your mind.

“tell me, y/n..” he began, breathing tickling you. “when minho grabbed you.. did you think i wouldn’t find out?”

your heart was beating out of your chest, as you gulped slightly, almost anxiously pulling down the sleeve of your shirt to cover the bruise but it was futile. he knew it was there.

“i didn’t wanna cause any problems.” you meekly offered.

jungkook’s jaw flexed. for the first time, you saw a clear emotion covering his features, something strong, obsessive even. anger. “you were assaulted on my floor. that is my problem.”

you weren’t sure what to say, head dipping to look at your feet, noticing how small yours looked in comparison to his, the difference in size almost jarring. your hands were shaking, not from fear or uncertainty, but the sheer impulse of the moment.

“tell me..” he began, voice suddenly soft, a whisper. his finger tilted your chin, a gentle touch to ensure your eyes would be trained on his. “does your wrist hurt?”

you shook your head, as a bid to calm yourself. of course it hurt, you could feel a shoot of pain whenever you did anything with your right hand but you didn’t want to add any fuel to the fire. jungkook wasn’t an idiot though, he could see right through you.

his once cold eyes were alive, blazing down at you. “he won’t touch you again. i’ve already made sure of that.”

you could tell by his choice of words he was implying minho’s dismissal, and your stomach dropped. your entire team loved him, a group of macho men that did nothing but act like boys together, whilst they all basically scrapped and stole from the hard work you produced. to be the reason he was fired, no matter how big or small, was social suicide.

“you don’t have to do that, i’m sure it was a misunderstanding..” you gulped, wincing at the almost begging tone in your voice.

“i already did. he has no place here.” his firm voice haulted you.

you nodded, but jungkook could see the new found anxiety in your face. his fingers underneath your chin had become somewhat of a caress, cupping the bottom of your jaw with his hand, fingers touching your cheek. it felt so natural, so right, and you couldn’t figure out why.

“from today onwards, you work directly under me. i’ll have a desk moved into my office, and i will personally oversee all of your work. i want your reports and findings on my desk first thing every morning, no intermediaries. understood?”

you nodded, eyes large and lips parted in shock.

to work underneath the ceo was huge, insane even, and you weren’t sure you’d done anything worthy of that really. he tapped your jaw, as though it was a reminder to speak, he craved to hear your voice.

“y-yes sir.” you agreed.

“good.” he hummed in approval, fingers slowly slipping from your face. your heart clenched at the loss of his warmth, as he retreated back to his desk, leaving remnants of his scent.

later on in the day, as you sat with yejin during your break, quietly filling her in, you watched as her face showcased every known human emotion all at once.

“so much to unpack.” she whispered, excitedly curling closer to you over the table as you shyly ate your food, ignoring the way your old team members were looking at you angrily from the other side of the room. “firstly, this is everything out of a wet dream. the jungkook bit, i mean.”

you giggled quietly. “i think he’s just being nice for now, he’ll probably end up moving me to another department later on. who knows, maybe they’ll put me in marketing with you.”

yejin rolled her eyes with a loud scoff, earning her a look from the woman beside her. she brushed it off. “men like that don’t do nice, y/n. he has a purpose here.”

her words rang in your head for the remainder of your lunch break, even when you returned to jungkook’s office. your new desk had been placed near to his, presented in the exact way it usually did with some updated perks, a better laptop and screen all set up for you. you had thanked him an embarrassing amount of times, feeling flabbergasted as to what you’d done to deserve such generous gifts.

you both worked in silence, the sound of your fingers tapping away at the keyboard, producing a report, almost like music to jungkook’s ears. he was notorious for enjoying his silence, he wasn’t a fan of people coming in and out of his office which was why miyeon was entirely imperative to his day to day life. she would intercept anyone and everyone so he wouldn’t have to deal with them and yet here you were. you were bringing life into the same room he was holed up in day in and day out, and he was thoroughly enjoying it. it served as a peaceful backdrop to his thinking.

time was moving fast, too fast, and by the time you had everything sorted, you were printing and placing the report on his desk for him to see at the end of the day. you’d been on edge all day, not because you were stressed; but because this change of routine was new to you, you were still working it out, truly not used to being the centre of attention.

“goodbye, mr jeon, i’ll see you tomorrow.” you gently said, as you headed out in your coat, offering him a small wave.

jungkook looked up and gave you a small nod of acknowledgement, shamelessly letting his eyes run over your figure as you departed. “fuck.” he whispered to himself.

instead of driving home, you began the anxiety inducing drive to your parent’s home for dinner, knowing that it was quite literally the last place you wanted to be on earth. after such a polarising day, your head was swarming with unanswered questions and possibilities, of the deep treble of the man you worked for, his gentle touch and his harsh words. by the time you were arriving, you felt like you were on the edge of unraveling.

you sighed as you walked the steps up to the front door, nervously standing there for a moment and taking a deep breath. your knuckles hit the door gently making you wince due to your wrist, before the door opened, revealing your mother.

“finally.” she began, turning on her heels to back into the house, leaving you outside to come in yourself without so much of a proper welcome. “we thought you weren’t coming.”

“sorry, the traffic was bad.” you murmured, watching her place your plate down onto the table as though you were an after thought. you toed off your shoes, washing your hands before taking a seat.

your older sister, hana, looked at you dismissively, not bothering to say hello. with a wine glass in her hand, she looked positively radiant, beauty defined even - her makeup effortless. hana was the epitome of what femininity was ought to be, and you always felt frumpy in her presence. confident, assured; everything you weren’t.

“y/n,” your father greeted, drinking his own wine. “still working the same job?”

the first jab of the night.

“yeah, i just came from there.” you sat beside hana, slowly filling your plate like everyone else.

“what is it you do again? computers?”

“data analysis.” you corrected. “surveillance monitoring..information control.” your voice got quieter by the end of your sentence, noticing no one really was listening.

“ah.” hana cut in, smirking from underneath her glass. “spreadsheets and numbers all day, sounds exciting.”

the second jab.

the conversation began flowing without you; which was a norm of course. hana discussed her new boyfriend, a surgeon who worked at the local hospital much to the pleasure of both your parents. they knew they’d be able to brag to their friends about how their pretty daughter managed to bag a successful man like him. she discussed her promotion, her new apartment - each sentence prolonging her performance of pure perfection, indirectly shaming you.

you could barely keep up with it, reaching for your glass of water, exposing your wrist to them all unknowingly.

your mother was the first to gasp, eyebrows raising. “what on earth is that, y/n?”

you looked down, pulling your sleeve back down over your wrist immediately. “it’s nothing.”

“how clumsy can you be?” she frowned, displeased. your father glanced over with a shake of his head. “you need to be more careful, that’s hardly a good look for you at work.”

“it was just an accident, it’s fine.” you reiterated, feeling heat climb your throat and to your cheeks, where a red blush sat.

hana rolled her eyes, clearly not enjoying the way the conversation had steered away from her. “she probably got mad at her laptop or something.”

the laughs from your family members made the shame echo in your stomach. it acted as a reminder of your role in their lives, someone meek, quiet, someone who wasn’t to be heard or seen. it was a horrible way to be reminded of who you were in their eyes, but it had become such a norm, that instead of crying or mourning how they made you feel, you simply slipped back into what you knew best. silence.

they chatted about you in front of you, as though you hardly existed. for the first time in years, you could feel it cling to the insides of your heart, an ache you had long forgotten appearing once more. it hurt, you were tired of pretending like it didn’t.

you were about to excuse yourself from the table to get some fresh air when a shrill noise echoed around the room, halting everyone. your phone was ringing.

at this time? you couldn’t think why, scrambling it out of your bag to silence it until you saw the name that appeared. jeon jungkook. your breath caught; miyeon had made you save his number immediately upon arrival to your new duties, but you hadn’t expected to hear from him so soon.

“well, aren’t you going to answer it?” hana grumbled, annoyed with how slow you were being, clearly unaware with who was on the phone.

you nodded, completely dazed as you held the phone to your ear, clearing your throat. “hello?”

“did you receive the file i sent over?” jungkook’s voice was like velvet to your ears, managing to soothe away the previous ache that sat in your stomach with ease.

“yes, mr jeon. i’ll have it on your desk first thing tomorrow.”