Summary:-Being Jungkook's fourth third wife was never the plan. You were meant to finish your studies, not be handed over to a wealthy man nearly a decade older than you , a man already burdened with two wives and haunted by rumours of a dead one. One wife welcomes you with kindness. The other watches with quiet resentment. Yet it is not the living who unsettle you most. It is Eleanor , the first Mrs. Jeon. She died years ago under circumstances no one dares discuss. The servants whisper about it. Society has already reached its verdict , they all believe the same thing: Jeon Jungkook killed his first wife. But rumours are not always the truth.
Genre:-Dark Romance , Mystery , Gothic Fiction, Arranged Marriage , Slow Burn , Drama, Smut , Strangers to lovers (trope)
Part 01 :- New Bride °âŠâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâŠÂ°
"Then, by the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife." The priest's voice echoed through the chapel, a strange numbness settled over you.
The stained glass windows bathed the aisle in coloured light, painting shades of gold and crimson across the marble floor. Everything looked beautiful almost dreamlike. If only you felt the same.
"And now," the priest said with a smile, "you may kiss the bride."
A nervous flutter stirred in your stomach , the chapel fell silent. You slowly turned towards Jeon Jungkook. Up close, he was even more intimidating than the newspapers made him seem. Tall , Broad-shouldered , Dressed impeccably in black. There was something unsettling about how composed he remained while your own heart threatened to beat straight out of your chest. Not once throughout the ceremony had his expression changed , not when you exchanged vows , not when the rings were placed upon your fingers.
He stepped forward, you became painfully aware of every pair of eyes watching. Your parents , Margaret , Cecilia , The priest. The staff standing quietly at the back of the chapel. Jungkook's gaze lingered on your face, as though searching for something.
His hand lifted, resting lightly against your cheek. Then he leaned in his lip touches yours, Merely a formality carried out before witnesses. The sort of kiss exchanged by two strangers fulfilling an obligation rather than a promise. When he pulled away, the chapel erupted into polite applause.
Your attention remained fixed on the man standing before you. The man society whispered about. The man accused of murdering his first wife.
Six months ago, if someone had told you that you would become Jungkook's third wife, you would have laughed in their face. You had other plans, your world revolved around architecture. Endless sketches covered your desk, half-finished models occupied every spare corner of your room, and your greatest concern was whether your final project would impress your professors.
Marriage was nowhere on the list. Certainly not marriage to a man eleven years older than you. Yet one evening, your father sat you down and informed you that your future had already been decided. You were to marry Jeon Jungkook , you remembered staring at him in disbelief.
Everyone knew who Jungkook was. One of the most influential businessmen in the country. Owner of countless companies, estates, and investments. A man whose name appeared in newspapers almost weekly. A man who already had two wives and according to society, a dead one.
You refused at first you argued , pleaded , cried. None of it mattered. The agreement had already been made. In the end, you were left with no choice but to accept. That was how you found yourself standing in a chapel, exchanging vows with a man you barely knew.
His first wife, Margaret, was another matter entirely. Margaret Jeon was elegance personified. At thirty-five, she carried herself with a grace that made everyone around her feel slightly inadequate. Kind-hearted, patient, and endlessly composed, she possessed none of the bitterness one might expect from a woman sharing her husband with others.
Jungkook had married Margaret years ago not for love. Margaret's mother had been his own mother's closest friend. When she fell gravely ill, she had only one final wish , that her daughter would never be left alone in the world. Jungkook had honoured that wish and from what little you had observed, Margaret had never once regretted becoming Mrs. Jeon.
His second wife Cecilia was entirely different. Beautiful in the way storms were beautiful. At thirty, Cecilia possessed a sharp tongue and a sharper mind. Unlike Margaret, she made no effort to hide her displeasure regarding your presence.
Jungkook's marriage to Cecilia had been born from another arrangement. Her father, a powerful businessman whose health had rapidly deteriorated, had made a rather extraordinary declaration. Whichever man married his daughter would inherit everything. His companies ,estates , investments, fortune an empire worth billions. Many men had sought Cecilia's hand for precisely that reason. Jungkook had simply been the one chosen. Whether Cecilia had ever wanted the marriage was another question entirely.
And now there was you. The third wife the unwanted addition to an already complicated household.
The journey to the Jeon estate passed in near silence. You spent most of it staring out of the carriage window, watching the countryside blur past while a single thought repeated itself in your mind.
By the time the iron gates appeared, dusk had already begun to settle. Your breath caught the estate was enormous , not a house , not even a mansion. An estate.
Stone walls climbed towards the evening sky, ivy curling around ancient pillars. Tall windows reflected the fading sunlight, while perfectly trimmed gardens stretched farther than the eye could see. It looked less like a home and more like something from a novel.
The moment you stepped inside, that feeling only intensified. The entrance hall was magnificent. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead. Marble floors gleamed beneath your feet. Portraits lined the walls. You found yourself glancing around uneasily.
"Welcome home." Margaret's gentle voice broke the silence. Before you could respond, you felt another gaze. Cecilia , she stood a few steps away, arms folded across her chest. The look she gave you could have frozen a river. You quickly looked away. Jungkook removed his gloves before turning towards Margaret.
"Would you show her to her room?"
"Of course." Margaret smiled warmly. Then, as though struck by a thought, she added .
"Although, darling, shouldn't she be staying in your room tonight?"
You nearly choked. Jungkook's expression didn't change, but his eyes lifted towards Margaret. A warning glance. Margaret immediately looked amused.
A laugh escaped Cecilia "How considerate of you, Margaret."
Margaret sighed "Cecilia."
"No, please continue," Cecilia said sweetly. "You've always been so invested in Jungkook's marriages." The sweetness in her voice somehow made the remark worse.
Margaret rolled her eyes "You make everything sound scandalous."
"Only because everything here usually is."
You suddenly felt as though you had walked into the middle of a conversation that had been ongoing for years. One filled with private jokes and old grievances. Jungkook looked entirely unimpressed.
"Enough." The single word was calm. Yet both women immediately fell silent. An impressive achievement, considering Cecilia looked capable of arguing with a brick wall.
His gaze shifted towards you. For the first time since arriving, he seemed to notice how uncomfortable you were.
"You needn't worry." His voice was even. "There will be no expectations placed upon you tonight."
You wished the marble floor would swallow you whole. Across the room, Cecilia muttered something beneath her breath. Margaret elbowed her.
"What?" Cecilia complained.
"You are behaving terribly."
"I'm being honest."
"You're being insufferable."
Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose. You almost felt sorry for him.
"Margaret," he said, clearly choosing patience over murder, "please show her the room."
Margaret immediately brightened "Come along, dear." As you followed her towards the grand staircase, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.
Margaret's room was on the east wing. Yours, apparently, was not far from it. As the two of you walked through endless corridors, she pointed out various parts of the estate along the way.
"The library is downstairs." You nodded. "The conservatory is at the back." Another nod. "And if you ever get lost,which you absolutely will, just find a servant. I've lived here for years and still take wrong turns." A surprised laugh escaped you.
Margaret smiled, looking rather pleased with herself. The room she eventually led you to was beautiful. Far larger than your bedroom back home. Tall windows overlooked the gardens. A fireplace occupied one wall. Fresh flowers rested on a small table near the bed.
"It's lovely," you admitted quietly.
"I'm glad you think so." Margaret moved towards the wardrobe. "Would you like some help with those dreadful wedding layers?"
You laughed softly "Please."
Within minutes, she was helping you unfasten buttons and remove various pieces of your wedding attire. The atmosphere remained surprisingly comfortable. Not once did Margaret make you feel embarrassed. In fact, she seemed determined to avoid awkwardness altogether.
"So," she began casually, folding a piece of fabric, "architecture."
You glanced up "What about it?"
"I heard you're studying it."
A smile appeared before you could stop it "I am."
"Do you enjoy it?"
"I love it." The answer came instantly. Margaret noticed of course she did.
For the next several minutes, she asked question after question. What buildings inspired you? What was your favourite project? How long had you wanted to become an architect? The conversation flowed so naturally that you almost forgot where you were. Almost forgot that only a few hours ago you had married her husband. Margaret listened attentively to every answer. By the time you finished changing into a comfortable nightdress, some of the tension had finally left your shoulders.
Margaret seemed to notice "Better?"
"A little."
"Good." The older woman smiled. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The room felt strangely peaceful. Then Margaret stepped closer. Before you could react, she gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture reminded you painfully of your mother. Something softened in her expression.
"You've had quite a day. That's one way to put it."
A small laugh escaped her. Then, unexpectedly, Margaret leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. The gesture was entirely maternal. When she pulled back, her eyes were kind.
"So listen to me carefully. This house can be overwhelming at first." Her gaze drifted briefly towards the door. "And the people inside it can be even more overwhelming."
That earned a reluctant smile from you. Margaret smiled back. Then she took your hands in hers.
"This is your home now, alright?"
The words caught you off guard. Nobody had said them since you arrived nobody except her.
"If you ever need anything, come to me."
Your throat tightened unexpectedly "Anything?"
"Anything." There was no hesitation in her answer.
Margaret left your room only after making certain you had everything you needed. The corridors were quiet as she made her way towards Jungkook's . She wasn't surprised to find him there. He stood beside an open window, a cigarette between his fingers. The night air drifted through the room, carrying away the smoke.
"You really should stop doing that."
Jungkook glanced over his shoulder "Good evening to you too, Margaret."
Margaret rolled her eyes before walking over and taking the cigarette from his hand "You know the doctors keep saying the same thing."
"And yet here I am."
"Unfortunately." A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Margaret moved closer, straightening the collar of his shirt before wrapping her arms around him from behind. It was an old habit. Neither thought much of it anymore.
"New bride is frightened."
Jungkook's expression softened slightly "I know."
"She's twenty-four, Jungkook."
His gaze remained fixed on the darkness beyond the window "I know."
Margaret rested her chin against his shoulder. "Please don't let anything happen to her. She wants to study. Let her finish."
Jungkook sighed "Margaret."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
She frowned. He finally turned towards her. The door suddenly swung open. Cecilia entered carrying a bottle of wine. She stopped her eyes immediately landed on Margaret standing close to Jungkook. A flicker of irritation crossed her face.
"There you are." Without waiting for an invitation, she crossed the room and placed herself directly between them. Margaret sighed.
"Cecilia."
"What?"
"You've interrupted a conversation."
"You were hugging my husband."
"Our husband."
Cecilia ignored her. Jungkook looked exhausted already. Margaret immediately reached for the bottle "No."
Cecilia pulled it away . "Margaret."
The two women stared at one another. Jungkook looked as though he'd rather attend another board meeting. Margaret pointed towards the door.
"You should go and speak to her."
"Who?"
"The new bride."
Cecilia laughed "I would rather not."
"She's new here."
"Not my problem."
"She's alone."
Cecilia uncorked the bottle "Still not my problem." Margaret folded her arms "At least make an effort to know her." That earned a sharp look. Margaret opened her mouth. Cecilia continued before she could speak.
"Leave it alone. He doesn't love her."
The room went silent. For a brief moment, nobody spoke. Then Margaret tilted her head.
"Neither does he love you." The words landed with remarkable precision. Jungkook closed his eyes. Cecilia stared at Margaret in disbelief.
Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose. "Must the two of you do this every evening?"
The following morning, you woke earlier than expected. For several moments, you simply lay there, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling above you. There was little point attempting to fall back asleep. After getting dressed, you slipped from your room and wandered through the corridors. The house was surprisingly peaceful at this hour.
Eventually, a warm scent drifted through the air. Fresh bread , Tea, something sweet. Curious, you followed it. The scent led you towards the kitchens. You paused at the doorway.
Margaret stood at the centre of the room, sleeves rolled neatly to her elbows. A servant was helping prepare ingredients nearby, but Margaret herself was occupied with a mixing bowl. She looked remarkably at home. As though she belonged there more than anywhere else. You couldn't help smiling.
"Good morning."
Margaret looked up immediately. A smile spread across her face "Good morning, darling."
You stepped inside "I didn't expect to find you here."
"Most people don't." She wiped her hands on a cloth. "Welcome to my kitchen."
You glanced around the enormous room. At least half a dozen servants were already moving about.
"My kitchen?"
Margaret looked thoroughly pleased with herself "Yes." You laughed softly "You're cooking?" She nodded.
"But there are so many servants."
"I know."
"Then why are you doing it yourself?"
Margaret looked genuinely confused by the question "Because I enjoy it."
"As simple as that?"
"As simple as that."
She stirred something before continuing "The servants are wonderful, but I've always loved cooking." A fond smile appeared on her face. "And besides, I only cook for everyone."
Margaret poured tea into a delicate porcelain cup. Without warning, she held it out towards you. You blinked. She blinked back.
"...What's this?"
"Tea."
"I can see that."
"Excellent."
You narrowed your eyes. Margaret looked innocent. A dangerous sign.
"Margaret."
"Take it upstairs."
Your stomach sank "To whom?"
"Jungkook."
You stared at her. She smiled. You continued staring. Her smile widened.
"Absolutely not."
"Oh, come now." You lowered your voice. "I barely know him and it's awkward."
Margaret laughed "You're married."
"That doesn't make it less awkward. If anything, it makes it more awkward."
The older woman considered that "Fair point." You looked victorious. For approximately three seconds. Then Margaret placed the cup directly into your hands. The warm porcelain nearly made you drop it.
Balancing the cup of tea carefully, you followed Margaret's directions through what felt like an endless maze of corridors. The estate was far too large for any reasonable person. Eventually, you found the door.
You hesitated then knocked. You knocked again. Still nothing. After a moment's consideration, you carefully pushed the door open. The room beyond was surprisingly simple compared to the rest of the estate. A large bookshelf occupied one wall. Papers were neatly arranged across a desk near the window. Everything was orderly.
Your gaze drifted towards the bed and froze. He was asleep. You hadn't expected that. For a man who always seemed perfectly composed, there was something strangely human about seeing him asleep. The sharp edges of his expression had softened. You quietly crossed the room and placed the tea on the bedside table.
"Mr Jeon?"
No response. You tried again.
"Jungkook?"
Margaret had sent you all this way. You couldn't exactly return downstairs carrying the tea. But taking a breath, you stepped closer.
"Jungkook."
Just as you reached out to lightly touch his shoulder, your foot caught against the edge of the rug.
"Ohâ" Your balance vanished instantly. Before you could stop yourself, you stumbled forward. A startled sound escaped you. The next thing you knew, you had landed against the mattress. Far closer to Jungkook than was remotely appropriate. His eyes opened immediately. Dark eyes meeting yours from only inches away. For a brief, mortifying second, neither of you moved. The world seemed to stop. You could hear your own heartbeat. Feel the warmth radiating from him. Feel the embarrassment rapidly taking years off your life.
Jungkook blinked once then twice. Clearly trying to understand why his newest wife was suddenly hovering above him at seven in the morning. Heat flooded your face. You scrambled backwards so quickly you nearly fell a second time.
"Iâ" Wonderful start "I brought tea." Excellent recovery. Your face burned. The corner of Jungkook's mouth twitched ever so slightly.
"The tea attacked you?" You stared. He stared back. For the first time, you realised he was teasing you. Very subtly , Very rarely. But definitely teasing.
"It was the rug."
"Of course. The rug is dangerous. I'll inform the staff immediately."
You narrowed your eyes. Jungkook sat up, looking far too amused for a man who had just been awakened in such a ridiculous manner. Your gaze immediately darted towards the cup.
"The tea will get cold." he reached for the cup. "Thank you."
You awkwardly folded your hands behind your back. "Margaret made it."
"I know." Of course he knew. Something about that answer felt unexpectedly familiar.
You took a step towards the door then another.
"I should go."
Jungkook nodded.Yet as your hand reached the handle, his voice stopped you.
"Good morning." You glanced over your shoulder. He was holding the cup of tea, looking considerably more awake now.
"Good morning, Mrs Jeon."
An hour later the dining room was already prepared. The table seemed to stretch endlessly beneath a glittering chandelier. Silver cutlery gleamed beneath the morning light, while servants moved quietly around the room, placing dishes in their proper places.
Margaret was already seated. She smiled the moment she saw you. You took the seat beside her. A few moments later, Cecilia entered. Elegant as always not that she looked pleased to be there. Her eyes swept across the table before settling on Jungkook. Without hesitation, she pulled out the chair beside him and sat down.
"Good morning, Cecilia," you said politely. Cecilia looked up from pouring herself coffee. For a second, you wondered if she would ignore you entirely. Then she gave a short nod.
"Morning."
A servant began serving breakfast. For a while, the table remained quiet. Until Cecilia decided silence was unacceptable.
"Jungkook."
"Hm?"
"You're leaving for the office today?"
"After lunch."
Cecilia immediately brightened . To your surprise, Cecilia reached over and adjusted his tie. The action seemed completely natural. The sort of thing someone did after years of familiarity. Jungkook didn't even react clearly this was normal. You focused very hard on your breakfast.
Margaret, however, looked entertained. "You do realise he's capable of adjusting his own tie."
Cecilia didn't even glance at her. "He's capable of many things. That doesn't mean he'll do them properly."
Jungkook sighed "I am sitting right here."
Margaret nearly choked on her tea. You hid a smile. Cecilia noticed Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Something amusing?"
"No."
"You're smiling."
"I'm not."
"You absolutely are."
Margaret laughed outright. Jungkook folded his newspaper.
"You've frightened her."
"She's still here, isn't she?"
You decided that was probably the closest thing to affection Cecilia was capable of expressing. Margaret leaned towards you slightly.
"That's Cecilia being friendly."
You blinked "Friendly?"
"Terrifying, isn't it?"
Breakfast eventually came to an end. The household seemed to move with practiced efficiency the moment Jungkook prepared to leave. You found yourself unsure whether you were expected to do anything at all.
Margaret, apparently, knew exactly what was expected. She approached Jungkook carrying his watch. "You forgot this."
Margaret looked entirely pleased with herself as she fastened the watch around his wrist. Cecilia appeared moments later. She stepped forward, adjusted his collar, and pressed a quick peck on his lip .
"Don't work too late."
"I'll try."
"You always say that."
"And yet you keep asking."
Cecilia huffed dramatically. You remained where you were. A few steps away. After all, what exactly were you supposed to do? You had known the man for barely a day.
Jungkook's gaze drifted across the hall. For a brief moment, his eyes met yours. Then they shifted towards Margaret. Something unspoken seemed to pass between them. Before you could think about it further, he turned towards the door. The massive front doors closed behind him.
Margaret immediately clapped her hands together. "Come along, darling." She linked her arm through yours before you could protest. "I shall show you the estate. Trust me, you'll need a tour."
Cecilia snorted. "She'll get lost within an hour."
Margaret shot her a look. "Cecilia."
"What?"
"Be nice."
Cecilia folded her arms. Then her gaze landed on you. You weren't entirely sure how a single person could communicate so much judgement without speaking. It was almost impressive. You found yourself pouting slightly.
Margaret looked at you. Then looked at Cecilia. Then back at you. The tiny pout on your face was so unexpectedly sulky that her heart nearly melted.
Margaret immediately reached over and patted your cheek. "There, there."
You looked scandalised "I am not upset."
"Of course not." Margaret smiled sweetly. Across the hall, Cecilia stared at the interaction. Then, for reasons known only to herself, looked even more annoyed.
"Oh, for heaven's sake."
With that, she turned sharply and marched away. The sound of her heels echoed through the corridor. You watched her disappear.
"Does she always do that?" Margaret considered the question. "Every day"
Then she tucked your arm through hers once more. "Come along."
"Where first?" A mischievous glimmer appeared in her eyes. "The library." Your face immediately brightened. Margaret smiled.
For the next hour, Margaret guided you through what felt like half the estate. The west wing , the library , the conservatory. A music room nobody seemed to use anymore. Several drawing rooms you were fairly certain all looked identical. By the end of it, your feet hurt. Margaret looked perfectly fine. You suspected she possessed supernatural abilities.
"You'll get used to it eventually," she said.
"To walking five miles just to find breakfast?"
Margaret laughed "Precisely."
The two of you turned another corner before she suddenly stopped. A door stood at the end of the corridor. Unlike the others, it was locked. The brass handle gleamed untouched. Something about it felt different. You glanced at Margaret.
"What's in there?"
For the first time all morning, her smile faded. "That was Eleanor's room."
Your heart skipped. Eleanor The name seemed to linger in the air. You hesitated then curiosity got the better of you.
"I've heard about her. What was she like?"
A strange expression crossed Margaret's face. A little later, the two of you found yourselves seated on a garden bench overlooking the rose gardens. The morning breeze carried the scent of flowers through the air. For several moments, Margaret simply stared ahead. Then she spoke.
"Eleanor was beautiful. The sort of beautiful people write poems about." A faint smile touched her lips.
"When she entered a room, everyone noticed. She was kind too," Margaret continued. "Very kind." The smile on her face became genuine. "Most people assumed she'd hate me."
You frowned "Why?"
"Because I was another wife."
"Oh."
Margaret shrugged "Instead, she became my friend."
You blinked "A close friend?"
"My best friend."
The answer came without hesitation. A small ache settled in your chest. Margaret looked down at her hands.
"Eleanor never treated me like a rival. Nor Cecilia. Oh, Cecilia was impossible back then. She argued with everyone. I find that very difficult to believe."
Margaret gave you a look. You both burst out laughing. When the laughter faded, Margaret continued.
"Eleanor always knew how to handle her. She knew how to handle all of us."
You looked towards the estate. Towards the countless windows.
"You loved her."
Margaret's eyes grew suspiciously bright "Very much." Margaret's gaze drifted towards the gardens. Towards nothing at all.
"She loved Jungkook. So much that it was almost frightening."
Then Margaret's expression darkened. "The day she died..." Her voice trailed off.
You felt your stomach tighten "Margaret?"
She exhaled slowly "One day she was here and the next...We found her dead."
The words landed heavily between you. You didn't know what to say. What could anyone say? Margaret stared ahead. Lost somewhere in the past.
"I remember thinking the house had become too quiet and somehow it never stopped being quiet after that."
That evening, the estate felt quieter than usual. Jungkook had returned one look at him told you the day had been difficult. His tie had been loosened, his hair slightly dishevelled, and there was a weariness in his eyes that even his usual composure couldn't hide.
Margaret immediately stood "Long day?"
"The longest." His answer earned a sympathetic smile. Before either of you could say anything else, Cecilia appeared. As though she had been waiting.
"There you are."
Jungkook glanced at her. Cecilia took his coat from his shoulders before any servant could. Her arms travel on his chest she push her body closer to him , she took his hand place on her lower waist .
"Come upstairs."
"Ceciliaâ"
"No arguments." She put her index finger tip on his lip looking directly in his eyes in a seductive way .
Jungkook seemed too exhausted to argue. With a quiet sigh, he allowed Cecilia to lead him towards the staircase. The two disappeared upstairs.
Margaret lowered her gaze. For a brief moment, her expression looked unbearably sad. As though she were trying very hard not to feel something. Your heart squeezed. Without thinking, you moved closer and wrapped your arms around her. Margaret froze. Then slowly relaxed into the hug.
"Oh, darling." Her voice was soft. You rested your chin on her shoulder.
"Come to my room. We'll watch a film."
"A film?"
"Yes."
Margaret smiled despite herself "I believe that's your solution to everything."
"It usually works."
The older woman shook her head affectionately. "You are ridiculous."
"Maybe."
"But very sweet."
The film had been Margaret's choice. It was some impossibly romantic story involving stolen glances, handwritten letters, and a handsome gentleman who spent half the film staring longingly at the heroine.
You had spent most of the time making sarcastic remarks. Margaret had spent most of the time telling you to be quiet. By the end of it, neither of you were paying much attention to the screen. The two of you sat cross-legged on the bed, sharing biscuits and tea.
Margaret glanced at you "So. Have you ever had a boyfriend?"
You nearly choked on your tea. Margaret looked delighted. "Oh, there was someone."
You groaned "A very long time ago. I was practically a child."
"You still are."
You stared at her "Margaret. "I'm twenty-four."
"Exactly." She smiled sweetly "So what happened?"
You rolled your eyes "He moved away."
"Tragic."
"It wasn't tragic."
"Heartbreaking?."
"It really wasn't."
Margaret laughed. The sound filled the room. For a moment, you simply watched her. It struck you how easy it was to speak with her. As though you had known her far longer than a day. Margaret studied your face.
The following morning was unusually peaceful. You were curled up on one end of the drawing-room sofa, a book resting in your lap. Margaret sat nearby, carefully slicing fruit for breakfast. The estate was quiet. Then Cecilia entered. One glance at her face told you she was in an exceptionally good mood.
Which, somehow, was far more concerning. Margaret didn't even look up.
"Good morning, Cecilia."
"Good morning."
You lowered your book "Morning."
Cecilia sat down and helped herself to a strawberry. A smile lingered on her lips.
"Honestly husband didnât let me sleep last night , he was so much in mood "
Margaret's knife paused briefly. You shifted uncomfortably.
"Cecilia." You snap "Maybe we don't need to discuss this."
The room went quiet. Cecilia slowly turned towards you. Her smile vanished.
"What did you say?"
You immediately realised your mistake "I just meantâ"
"No."
She look so offended "What exactly did you mean?"
Margaret looked up "Cecilia."
But Cecilia wasn't listening anymore.
"You've been here for what? A few days? And suddenly you're telling me what I can and cannot talk about? You really are ill mannered."
You swallowed "I wasn't trying toâ"
"OF COURSE YOU WERE." The words came sharper now. "You walk into this house and immediately start acting as though you belong here."
Margaret stood "Enough."
"No." Cecilia's voice cracked through the room. "No, I'm tired of pretending. You know what your problem is?"
You blinked rapidly "Cecilia..."
"You think being young makes you special." The words struck harder than they should have. "You're not the first wife. You're not even the second."
Margaret looked horrified "Cecilia!"
"But somebody should tell her."
The older woman stepped forward "Cecilia, stop." Yet Cecilia continued. As though every insecurity you'd carried into this marriage had suddenly been given a voice.
By the end of it, your vision had blurred. You hated that. Hated that tears had appeared at all. You looked away quickly. Margaret saw. Her expression immediately softened.
"Oh, darling..." At that exact moment, footsteps echoed through the hall. Everyone turned. It's Jungkook he stopped the moment he entered the room. His gaze moved from Margaret... to Cecilia...and finally to you. Your eyes were red and suddenly, every single person in it looked guilty.
Cecilia moved first as she always did. She crossed the room quickly and wrapped her arms around Jungkook. " Honey ." To your astonishment, her eyes were suddenly shining with tears.
"She disrespected me."
You stared. Margaret stared. Even Jungkook looked mildly unconvinced. Cecilia buried her face against his shoulder. "I was only talking and she told me to stop."
Margaret looked as though she wanted to throw a fruit bowl. Instead, she walked over to you. "Look at me."
You tried looking away. Margaret gently cupped your face. She wiped away a tear that had escaped despite your best efforts. Across the room, Cecilia continued her performance.
Slowly, his gaze shifted towards you. Your eyes were still red. Your book still lay abandoned on the sofa. For several seconds, he simply studied you. Then he stepped away from Cecilia. Jungkook stopped in front of you.
"Look at me." Reluctantly, you did "Did you disrespect her first?"
You shook your head "No."
His expression didn't change "Did you insult her?"
"No."
"Raise your voice?"
Another shake of your head "No."
Jungkook nodded once. Then his gaze moved towards Cecilia. A terrible sign Cecilia immediately straightened.
"What?"
"Did she?" The room became very interested in the answer. Cecilia opened her mouth. Margaret folded her arms. Finally, Cecilia huffed.
"No."
Jungkook sighed quietly "Cecilia."
"What?"
"Apologise."
Cecilia looked genuinely offended.
"To her?"
"Yes."
"Butâ"
"Cecilia."
She stared at him. Then at you. Then at Margaret.
"I'm...sorry."
The evening settled over the estate in uneasy stillness. You sat curled on the sofa with a newspaper. At first, you only skimmed it. Then your eyes caught the headline.
JEON HOUSEHOLD SHROUDED IN MYSTERY: FOURTH MARRIAGE, DEAD FIRST WIFE, AND WHISPERS OF CRIME
Your stomach tightened. The article went on and on exaggerations, rumours dressed up as facts, cruel speculation about Jungkook, about Eleanor, about you. You turned another page.
A sharp voice cut through the room.
âDonât read that.â
You flinched. Jungkook stood near the doorway, tie loosened, expression unreadable but his tone wasnât. âDonât read that bullshit.â
Your fingers tightened around the paper. A question had been sitting inside you since the morning, growing heavier with every whispered rumour, every locked rooms . You lifted your gaze.
ââŠDid you really kill Eleanor?â
The air changed. Jungkookâs expression shifted not slowly, not subtly. It hardened his eyes darkened in a way you hadnât seen before.
âWhat did you just say?â
Your throat tightened you stood up.
âI justâpeople sayââ You didnât get to finish.
In a single stride, he crossed the distance between you. The newspaper slipped from your hands. Your back hit the wall before you fully registered what was happening. Jungkookâs hand came up fast but it wasnât around your throat. It was against the wall beside your head. The impact made your breath stutter. His other hand caught your cheek , not gently, but firmly enough to make you still.
âDonât you dare,â he said, voice low and shaking with something dangerous, âtake her name again.â
Your chest rose sharply. Fear spread through you before you could stop it âI didnât meanââ
âDo you hear me?â His grip tightened slightly, not hurting you but close enough that your mind couldnât tell the difference.
âNever. Say that. Again.â
Your eyes burned. You nodded quickly, breath uneven âOkay⊠okayâŠâ
From the side of the room âJUNGKOOK.â Margaretâs voice. She had entered without you noticing. Her eyes moved from him⊠to you⊠to his hand still near your face.
âLet her go.â
Jungkook didnât move at first. Then, slowly, he stepped back. Like something inside him had snapped loose. You slid down the wall slightly, shaking. Margaret was there in an instant. She pulled you into her chest.
âItâs alright,â she murmured softly, stroking your hair. âYouâre alright.â
You clung to her without thinking. Across the room, Jungkook stood very still. His breathing changed. His hand pressed against the edge of the table. His jaw tightened. Margaret noticed immediately.
âJungkookâŠâ
But he wasnât looking at her anymore. He was staring at you. Or maybe through you. His breath became uneven like he couldnât catch it properly.
âNoâŠâ he muttered under his breath. Margaretâs grip on you tightened. âY/N, donât move.â
Jungkook took one step back. His hand went to his chest. He looked⊠lost. For the first time since youâd known him he panicked and then his breathing broke completely and then he fell. Hard. The sound of it snapped through the room.
âJungkook!â Both you and Margaret moved at once. You reached him first, dropping to your knees beside him, your hands shaking as you tried to steady his shoulder.
âHey hey, look at me,â you said quickly, though your voice trembled. âBreathe⊠just breathe.â
His eyes were unfocused, chest rising unevenly. Margaret was already there, grabbing a glass of water from the side table and splashing a little on her palm before pressing it gently near his face.
âEasy,â she murmured. âYouâre okay. Just breathe.â Slowly, his breathing began to settle. The sharp panic in his eyes dulled still there, but no longer consuming him.
Only when his grip loosened did you realise how tightly youâd been holding him. Jungkook pushed himself upright, though unsteadily. The silence that followed was heavier than before. Then his gaze snapped to you. Something in him hardened again.
âDonât ever mention her name like that again,â he said, voice low and rough. âDo you understand me?â
You flinched slightly. He continued before you could answer.
âIf you do⊠youâll see something you wonât like.â The words landed like ice. âGo to your room.â
Your throat tightened. You didnât argue. You stood slowly, eyes lowered ââŠOkay.â And then you left.
Margaret stayed behind. Jungkook was still sitting on the floor, one hand pressed to his forehead, trying to steady himself.
âYou scared her,â Margaret said softly. His jaw tightened. âShe crossed a line.â
Margaret didnât look away âTruth is always bitter.â
Summary:-Being Jungkook's fourth third wife was never the plan. You were meant to finish your studies, not be handed over to a wealthy man nearly a decade older than you , a man already burdened with two wives and haunted by rumours of a dead one. One wife welcomes you with kindness. The other watches with quiet resentment. Yet it is not the living who unsettle you most. It is Eleanor , the first Mrs. Jeon. She died years ago under circumstances no one dares discuss. The servants whisper about it. Society has already reached its verdict , they all believe the same thing: Jeon Jungkook killed his first wife. But rumours are not always the truth.
Genre:-Dark Romance , Mystery , Gothic Fiction, Arranged Marriage , Slow Burn , Drama, Smut , Strangers to lovers (trope)
Part 01 :- New Bride °âŠâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâĄâŠÂ°
"Then, by the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife." The priest's voice echoed through the chapel, a strange numbness settled over you.
The stained glass windows bathed the aisle in coloured light, painting shades of gold and crimson across the marble floor. Everything looked beautiful almost dreamlike. If only you felt the same.
"And now," the priest said with a smile, "you may kiss the bride."
A nervous flutter stirred in your stomach , the chapel fell silent. You slowly turned towards Jeon Jungkook. Up close, he was even more intimidating than the newspapers made him seem. Tall , Broad-shouldered , Dressed impeccably in black. There was something unsettling about how composed he remained while your own heart threatened to beat straight out of your chest. Not once throughout the ceremony had his expression changed , not when you exchanged vows , not when the rings were placed upon your fingers.
He stepped forward, you became painfully aware of every pair of eyes watching. Your parents , Margaret , Cecilia , The priest. The staff standing quietly at the back of the chapel. Jungkook's gaze lingered on your face, as though searching for something.
His hand lifted, resting lightly against your cheek. Then he leaned in his lip touches yours, Merely a formality carried out before witnesses. The sort of kiss exchanged by two strangers fulfilling an obligation rather than a promise. When he pulled away, the chapel erupted into polite applause.
Your attention remained fixed on the man standing before you. The man society whispered about. The man accused of murdering his first wife.
Six months ago, if someone had told you that you would become Jungkook's third wife, you would have laughed in their face. You had other plans, your world revolved around architecture. Endless sketches covered your desk, half-finished models occupied every spare corner of your room, and your greatest concern was whether your final project would impress your professors.
Marriage was nowhere on the list. Certainly not marriage to a man eleven years older than you. Yet one evening, your father sat you down and informed you that your future had already been decided. You were to marry Jeon Jungkook , you remembered staring at him in disbelief.
Everyone knew who Jungkook was. One of the most influential businessmen in the country. Owner of countless companies, estates, and investments. A man whose name appeared in newspapers almost weekly. A man who already had two wives and according to society, a dead one.
You refused at first you argued , pleaded , cried. None of it mattered. The agreement had already been made. In the end, you were left with no choice but to accept. That was how you found yourself standing in a chapel, exchanging vows with a man you barely knew.
His first wife, Margaret, was another matter entirely. Margaret Jeon was elegance personified. At thirty-five, she carried herself with a grace that made everyone around her feel slightly inadequate. Kind-hearted, patient, and endlessly composed, she possessed none of the bitterness one might expect from a woman sharing her husband with others.
Jungkook had married Margaret years ago not for love. Margaret's mother had been his own mother's closest friend. When she fell gravely ill, she had only one final wish , that her daughter would never be left alone in the world. Jungkook had honoured that wish and from what little you had observed, Margaret had never once regretted becoming Mrs. Jeon.
His second wife Cecilia was entirely different. Beautiful in the way storms were beautiful. At thirty, Cecilia possessed a sharp tongue and a sharper mind. Unlike Margaret, she made no effort to hide her displeasure regarding your presence.
Jungkook's marriage to Cecilia had been born from another arrangement. Her father, a powerful businessman whose health had rapidly deteriorated, had made a rather extraordinary declaration. Whichever man married his daughter would inherit everything. His companies ,estates , investments, fortune an empire worth billions. Many men had sought Cecilia's hand for precisely that reason. Jungkook had simply been the one chosen. Whether Cecilia had ever wanted the marriage was another question entirely.
And now there was you. The third wife the unwanted addition to an already complicated household.
The journey to the Jeon estate passed in near silence. You spent most of it staring out of the carriage window, watching the countryside blur past while a single thought repeated itself in your mind.
By the time the iron gates appeared, dusk had already begun to settle. Your breath caught the estate was enormous , not a house , not even a mansion. An estate.
Stone walls climbed towards the evening sky, ivy curling around ancient pillars. Tall windows reflected the fading sunlight, while perfectly trimmed gardens stretched farther than the eye could see. It looked less like a home and more like something from a novel.
The moment you stepped inside, that feeling only intensified. The entrance hall was magnificent. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead. Marble floors gleamed beneath your feet. Portraits lined the walls. You found yourself glancing around uneasily.
"Welcome home." Margaret's gentle voice broke the silence. Before you could respond, you felt another gaze. Cecilia , she stood a few steps away, arms folded across her chest. The look she gave you could have frozen a river. You quickly looked away. Jungkook removed his gloves before turning towards Margaret.
"Would you show her to her room?"
"Of course." Margaret smiled warmly. Then, as though struck by a thought, she added .
"Although, darling, shouldn't she be staying in your room tonight?"
You nearly choked. Jungkook's expression didn't change, but his eyes lifted towards Margaret. A warning glance. Margaret immediately looked amused.
A laugh escaped Cecilia "How considerate of you, Margaret."
Margaret sighed "Cecilia."
"No, please continue," Cecilia said sweetly. "You've always been so invested in Jungkook's marriages." The sweetness in her voice somehow made the remark worse.
Margaret rolled her eyes "You make everything sound scandalous."
"Only because everything here usually is."
You suddenly felt as though you had walked into the middle of a conversation that had been ongoing for years. One filled with private jokes and old grievances. Jungkook looked entirely unimpressed.
"Enough." The single word was calm. Yet both women immediately fell silent. An impressive achievement, considering Cecilia looked capable of arguing with a brick wall.
His gaze shifted towards you. For the first time since arriving, he seemed to notice how uncomfortable you were.
"You needn't worry." His voice was even. "There will be no expectations placed upon you tonight."
You wished the marble floor would swallow you whole. Across the room, Cecilia muttered something beneath her breath. Margaret elbowed her.
"What?" Cecilia complained.
"You are behaving terribly."
"I'm being honest."
"You're being insufferable."
Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose. You almost felt sorry for him.
"Margaret," he said, clearly choosing patience over murder, "please show her the room."
Margaret immediately brightened "Come along, dear." As you followed her towards the grand staircase, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.
Margaret's room was on the east wing. Yours, apparently, was not far from it. As the two of you walked through endless corridors, she pointed out various parts of the estate along the way.
"The library is downstairs." You nodded. "The conservatory is at the back." Another nod. "And if you ever get lost,which you absolutely will, just find a servant. I've lived here for years and still take wrong turns." A surprised laugh escaped you.
Margaret smiled, looking rather pleased with herself. The room she eventually led you to was beautiful. Far larger than your bedroom back home. Tall windows overlooked the gardens. A fireplace occupied one wall. Fresh flowers rested on a small table near the bed.
"It's lovely," you admitted quietly.
"I'm glad you think so." Margaret moved towards the wardrobe. "Would you like some help with those dreadful wedding layers?"
You laughed softly "Please."
Within minutes, she was helping you unfasten buttons and remove various pieces of your wedding attire. The atmosphere remained surprisingly comfortable. Not once did Margaret make you feel embarrassed. In fact, she seemed determined to avoid awkwardness altogether.
"So," she began casually, folding a piece of fabric, "architecture."
You glanced up "What about it?"
"I heard you're studying it."
A smile appeared before you could stop it "I am."
"Do you enjoy it?"
"I love it." The answer came instantly. Margaret noticed of course she did.
For the next several minutes, she asked question after question. What buildings inspired you? What was your favourite project? How long had you wanted to become an architect? The conversation flowed so naturally that you almost forgot where you were. Almost forgot that only a few hours ago you had married her husband. Margaret listened attentively to every answer. By the time you finished changing into a comfortable nightdress, some of the tension had finally left your shoulders.
Margaret seemed to notice "Better?"
"A little."
"Good." The older woman smiled. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The room felt strangely peaceful. Then Margaret stepped closer. Before you could react, she gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture reminded you painfully of your mother. Something softened in her expression.
"You've had quite a day. That's one way to put it."
A small laugh escaped her. Then, unexpectedly, Margaret leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. The gesture was entirely maternal. When she pulled back, her eyes were kind.
"So listen to me carefully. This house can be overwhelming at first." Her gaze drifted briefly towards the door. "And the people inside it can be even more overwhelming."
That earned a reluctant smile from you. Margaret smiled back. Then she took your hands in hers.
"This is your home now, alright?"
The words caught you off guard. Nobody had said them since you arrived nobody except her.
"If you ever need anything, come to me."
Your throat tightened unexpectedly "Anything?"
"Anything." There was no hesitation in her answer.
Margaret left your room only after making certain you had everything you needed. The corridors were quiet as she made her way towards Jungkook's . She wasn't surprised to find him there. He stood beside an open window, a cigarette between his fingers. The night air drifted through the room, carrying away the smoke.
"You really should stop doing that."
Jungkook glanced over his shoulder "Good evening to you too, Margaret."
Margaret rolled her eyes before walking over and taking the cigarette from his hand "You know the doctors keep saying the same thing."
"And yet here I am."
"Unfortunately." A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Margaret moved closer, straightening the collar of his shirt before wrapping her arms around him from behind. It was an old habit. Neither thought much of it anymore.
"New bride is frightened."
Jungkook's expression softened slightly "I know."
"She's twenty-four, Jungkook."
His gaze remained fixed on the darkness beyond the window "I know."
Margaret rested her chin against his shoulder. "Please don't let anything happen to her. She wants to study. Let her finish."
Jungkook sighed "Margaret."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
She frowned. He finally turned towards her. The door suddenly swung open. Cecilia entered carrying a bottle of wine. She stopped her eyes immediately landed on Margaret standing close to Jungkook. A flicker of irritation crossed her face.
"There you are." Without waiting for an invitation, she crossed the room and placed herself directly between them. Margaret sighed.
"Cecilia."
"What?"
"You've interrupted a conversation."
"You were hugging my husband."
"Our husband."
Cecilia ignored her. Jungkook looked exhausted already. Margaret immediately reached for the bottle "No."
Cecilia pulled it away . "Margaret."
The two women stared at one another. Jungkook looked as though he'd rather attend another board meeting. Margaret pointed towards the door.
"You should go and speak to her."
"Who?"
"The new bride."
Cecilia laughed "I would rather not."
"She's new here."
"Not my problem."
"She's alone."
Cecilia uncorked the bottle "Still not my problem." Margaret folded her arms "At least make an effort to know her." That earned a sharp look. Margaret opened her mouth. Cecilia continued before she could speak.
"Leave it alone. He doesn't love her."
The room went silent. For a brief moment, nobody spoke. Then Margaret tilted her head.
"Neither does he love you." The words landed with remarkable precision. Jungkook closed his eyes. Cecilia stared at Margaret in disbelief.
Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose. "Must the two of you do this every evening?"
The following morning, you woke earlier than expected. For several moments, you simply lay there, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling above you. There was little point attempting to fall back asleep. After getting dressed, you slipped from your room and wandered through the corridors. The house was surprisingly peaceful at this hour.
Eventually, a warm scent drifted through the air. Fresh bread , Tea, something sweet. Curious, you followed it. The scent led you towards the kitchens. You paused at the doorway.
Margaret stood at the centre of the room, sleeves rolled neatly to her elbows. A servant was helping prepare ingredients nearby, but Margaret herself was occupied with a mixing bowl. She looked remarkably at home. As though she belonged there more than anywhere else. You couldn't help smiling.
"Good morning."
Margaret looked up immediately. A smile spread across her face "Good morning, darling."
You stepped inside "I didn't expect to find you here."
"Most people don't." She wiped her hands on a cloth. "Welcome to my kitchen."
You glanced around the enormous room. At least half a dozen servants were already moving about.
"My kitchen?"
Margaret looked thoroughly pleased with herself "Yes." You laughed softly "You're cooking?" She nodded.
"But there are so many servants."
"I know."
"Then why are you doing it yourself?"
Margaret looked genuinely confused by the question "Because I enjoy it."
"As simple as that?"
"As simple as that."
She stirred something before continuing "The servants are wonderful, but I've always loved cooking." A fond smile appeared on her face. "And besides, I only cook for everyone."
Margaret poured tea into a delicate porcelain cup. Without warning, she held it out towards you. You blinked. She blinked back.
"...What's this?"
"Tea."
"I can see that."
"Excellent."
You narrowed your eyes. Margaret looked innocent. A dangerous sign.
"Margaret."
"Take it upstairs."
Your stomach sank "To whom?"
"Jungkook."
You stared at her. She smiled. You continued staring. Her smile widened.
"Absolutely not."
"Oh, come now." You lowered your voice. "I barely know him and it's awkward."
Margaret laughed "You're married."
"That doesn't make it less awkward. If anything, it makes it more awkward."
The older woman considered that "Fair point." You looked victorious. For approximately three seconds. Then Margaret placed the cup directly into your hands. The warm porcelain nearly made you drop it.
Balancing the cup of tea carefully, you followed Margaret's directions through what felt like an endless maze of corridors. The estate was far too large for any reasonable person. Eventually, you found the door.
You hesitated then knocked. You knocked again. Still nothing. After a moment's consideration, you carefully pushed the door open. The room beyond was surprisingly simple compared to the rest of the estate. A large bookshelf occupied one wall. Papers were neatly arranged across a desk near the window. Everything was orderly.
Your gaze drifted towards the bed and froze. He was asleep. You hadn't expected that. For a man who always seemed perfectly composed, there was something strangely human about seeing him asleep. The sharp edges of his expression had softened. You quietly crossed the room and placed the tea on the bedside table.
"Mr Jeon?"
No response. You tried again.
"Jungkook?"
Margaret had sent you all this way. You couldn't exactly return downstairs carrying the tea. But taking a breath, you stepped closer.
"Jungkook."
Just as you reached out to lightly touch his shoulder, your foot caught against the edge of the rug.
"Ohâ" Your balance vanished instantly. Before you could stop yourself, you stumbled forward. A startled sound escaped you. The next thing you knew, you had landed against the mattress. Far closer to Jungkook than was remotely appropriate. His eyes opened immediately. Dark eyes meeting yours from only inches away. For a brief, mortifying second, neither of you moved. The world seemed to stop. You could hear your own heartbeat. Feel the warmth radiating from him. Feel the embarrassment rapidly taking years off your life.
Jungkook blinked once then twice. Clearly trying to understand why his newest wife was suddenly hovering above him at seven in the morning. Heat flooded your face. You scrambled backwards so quickly you nearly fell a second time.
"Iâ" Wonderful start "I brought tea." Excellent recovery. Your face burned. The corner of Jungkook's mouth twitched ever so slightly.
"The tea attacked you?" You stared. He stared back. For the first time, you realised he was teasing you. Very subtly , Very rarely. But definitely teasing.
"It was the rug."
"Of course. The rug is dangerous. I'll inform the staff immediately."
You narrowed your eyes. Jungkook sat up, looking far too amused for a man who had just been awakened in such a ridiculous manner. Your gaze immediately darted towards the cup.
"The tea will get cold." he reached for the cup. "Thank you."
You awkwardly folded your hands behind your back. "Margaret made it."
"I know." Of course he knew. Something about that answer felt unexpectedly familiar.
You took a step towards the door then another.
"I should go."
Jungkook nodded.Yet as your hand reached the handle, his voice stopped you.
"Good morning." You glanced over your shoulder. He was holding the cup of tea, looking considerably more awake now.
"Good morning, Mrs Jeon."
An hour later the dining room was already prepared. The table seemed to stretch endlessly beneath a glittering chandelier. Silver cutlery gleamed beneath the morning light, while servants moved quietly around the room, placing dishes in their proper places.
Margaret was already seated. She smiled the moment she saw you. You took the seat beside her. A few moments later, Cecilia entered. Elegant as always not that she looked pleased to be there. Her eyes swept across the table before settling on Jungkook. Without hesitation, she pulled out the chair beside him and sat down.
"Good morning, Cecilia," you said politely. Cecilia looked up from pouring herself coffee. For a second, you wondered if she would ignore you entirely. Then she gave a short nod.
"Morning."
A servant began serving breakfast. For a while, the table remained quiet. Until Cecilia decided silence was unacceptable.
"Jungkook."
"Hm?"
"You're leaving for the office today?"
"After lunch."
Cecilia immediately brightened . To your surprise, Cecilia reached over and adjusted his tie. The action seemed completely natural. The sort of thing someone did after years of familiarity. Jungkook didn't even react clearly this was normal. You focused very hard on your breakfast.
Margaret, however, looked entertained. "You do realise he's capable of adjusting his own tie."
Cecilia didn't even glance at her. "He's capable of many things. That doesn't mean he'll do them properly."
Jungkook sighed "I am sitting right here."
Margaret nearly choked on her tea. You hid a smile. Cecilia noticed Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Something amusing?"
"No."
"You're smiling."
"I'm not."
"You absolutely are."
Margaret laughed outright. Jungkook folded his newspaper.
"You've frightened her."
"She's still here, isn't she?"
You decided that was probably the closest thing to affection Cecilia was capable of expressing. Margaret leaned towards you slightly.
"That's Cecilia being friendly."
You blinked "Friendly?"
"Terrifying, isn't it?"
Breakfast eventually came to an end. The household seemed to move with practiced efficiency the moment Jungkook prepared to leave. You found yourself unsure whether you were expected to do anything at all.
Margaret, apparently, knew exactly what was expected. She approached Jungkook carrying his watch. "You forgot this."
Margaret looked entirely pleased with herself as she fastened the watch around his wrist. Cecilia appeared moments later. She stepped forward, adjusted his collar, and pressed a quick peck on his lip .
"Don't work too late."
"I'll try."
"You always say that."
"And yet you keep asking."
Cecilia huffed dramatically. You remained where you were. A few steps away. After all, what exactly were you supposed to do? You had known the man for barely a day.
Jungkook's gaze drifted across the hall. For a brief moment, his eyes met yours. Then they shifted towards Margaret. Something unspoken seemed to pass between them. Before you could think about it further, he turned towards the door. The massive front doors closed behind him.
Margaret immediately clapped her hands together. "Come along, darling." She linked her arm through yours before you could protest. "I shall show you the estate. Trust me, you'll need a tour."
Cecilia snorted. "She'll get lost within an hour."
Margaret shot her a look. "Cecilia."
"What?"
"Be nice."
Cecilia folded her arms. Then her gaze landed on you. You weren't entirely sure how a single person could communicate so much judgement without speaking. It was almost impressive. You found yourself pouting slightly.
Margaret looked at you. Then looked at Cecilia. Then back at you. The tiny pout on your face was so unexpectedly sulky that her heart nearly melted.
Margaret immediately reached over and patted your cheek. "There, there."
You looked scandalised "I am not upset."
"Of course not." Margaret smiled sweetly. Across the hall, Cecilia stared at the interaction. Then, for reasons known only to herself, looked even more annoyed.
"Oh, for heaven's sake."
With that, she turned sharply and marched away. The sound of her heels echoed through the corridor. You watched her disappear.
"Does she always do that?" Margaret considered the question. "Every day"
Then she tucked your arm through hers once more. "Come along."
"Where first?" A mischievous glimmer appeared in her eyes. "The library." Your face immediately brightened. Margaret smiled.
For the next hour, Margaret guided you through what felt like half the estate. The west wing , the library , the conservatory. A music room nobody seemed to use anymore. Several drawing rooms you were fairly certain all looked identical. By the end of it, your feet hurt. Margaret looked perfectly fine. You suspected she possessed supernatural abilities.
"You'll get used to it eventually," she said.
"To walking five miles just to find breakfast?"
Margaret laughed "Precisely."
The two of you turned another corner before she suddenly stopped. A door stood at the end of the corridor. Unlike the others, it was locked. The brass handle gleamed untouched. Something about it felt different. You glanced at Margaret.
"What's in there?"
For the first time all morning, her smile faded. "That was Eleanor's room."
Your heart skipped. Eleanor The name seemed to linger in the air. You hesitated then curiosity got the better of you.
"I've heard about her. What was she like?"
A strange expression crossed Margaret's face. A little later, the two of you found yourselves seated on a garden bench overlooking the rose gardens. The morning breeze carried the scent of flowers through the air. For several moments, Margaret simply stared ahead. Then she spoke.
"Eleanor was beautiful. The sort of beautiful people write poems about." A faint smile touched her lips.
"When she entered a room, everyone noticed. She was kind too," Margaret continued. "Very kind." The smile on her face became genuine. "Most people assumed she'd hate me."
You frowned "Why?"
"Because I was another wife."
"Oh."
Margaret shrugged "Instead, she became my friend."
You blinked "A close friend?"
"My best friend."
The answer came without hesitation. A small ache settled in your chest. Margaret looked down at her hands.
"Eleanor never treated me like a rival. Nor Cecilia. Oh, Cecilia was impossible back then. She argued with everyone. I find that very difficult to believe."
Margaret gave you a look. You both burst out laughing. When the laughter faded, Margaret continued.
"Eleanor always knew how to handle her. She knew how to handle all of us."
You looked towards the estate. Towards the countless windows.
"You loved her."
Margaret's eyes grew suspiciously bright "Very much." Margaret's gaze drifted towards the gardens. Towards nothing at all.
"She loved Jungkook. So much that it was almost frightening."
Then Margaret's expression darkened. "The day she died..." Her voice trailed off.
You felt your stomach tighten "Margaret?"
She exhaled slowly "One day she was here and the next...We found her dead."
The words landed heavily between you. You didn't know what to say. What could anyone say? Margaret stared ahead. Lost somewhere in the past.
"I remember thinking the house had become too quiet and somehow it never stopped being quiet after that."
That evening, the estate felt quieter than usual. Jungkook had returned one look at him told you the day had been difficult. His tie had been loosened, his hair slightly dishevelled, and there was a weariness in his eyes that even his usual composure couldn't hide.
Margaret immediately stood "Long day?"
"The longest." His answer earned a sympathetic smile. Before either of you could say anything else, Cecilia appeared. As though she had been waiting.
"There you are."
Jungkook glanced at her. Cecilia took his coat from his shoulders before any servant could. Her arms travel on his chest she push her body closer to him , she took his hand place on her lower waist .
"Come upstairs."
"Ceciliaâ"
"No arguments." She put her index finger tip on his lip looking directly in his eyes in a seductive way .
Jungkook seemed too exhausted to argue. With a quiet sigh, he allowed Cecilia to lead him towards the staircase. The two disappeared upstairs.
Margaret lowered her gaze. For a brief moment, her expression looked unbearably sad. As though she were trying very hard not to feel something. Your heart squeezed. Without thinking, you moved closer and wrapped your arms around her. Margaret froze. Then slowly relaxed into the hug.
"Oh, darling." Her voice was soft. You rested your chin on her shoulder.
"Come to my room. We'll watch a film."
"A film?"
"Yes."
Margaret smiled despite herself "I believe that's your solution to everything."
"It usually works."
The older woman shook her head affectionately. "You are ridiculous."
"Maybe."
"But very sweet."
The film had been Margaret's choice. It was some impossibly romantic story involving stolen glances, handwritten letters, and a handsome gentleman who spent half the film staring longingly at the heroine.
You had spent most of the time making sarcastic remarks. Margaret had spent most of the time telling you to be quiet. By the end of it, neither of you were paying much attention to the screen. The two of you sat cross-legged on the bed, sharing biscuits and tea.
Margaret glanced at you "So. Have you ever had a boyfriend?"
You nearly choked on your tea. Margaret looked delighted. "Oh, there was someone."
You groaned "A very long time ago. I was practically a child."
"You still are."
You stared at her "Margaret. "I'm twenty-four."
"Exactly." She smiled sweetly "So what happened?"
You rolled your eyes "He moved away."
"Tragic."
"It wasn't tragic."
"Heartbreaking?."
"It really wasn't."
Margaret laughed. The sound filled the room. For a moment, you simply watched her. It struck you how easy it was to speak with her. As though you had known her far longer than a day. Margaret studied your face.
The following morning was unusually peaceful. You were curled up on one end of the drawing-room sofa, a book resting in your lap. Margaret sat nearby, carefully slicing fruit for breakfast. The estate was quiet. Then Cecilia entered. One glance at her face told you she was in an exceptionally good mood.
Which, somehow, was far more concerning. Margaret didn't even look up.
"Good morning, Cecilia."
"Good morning."
You lowered your book "Morning."
Cecilia sat down and helped herself to a strawberry. A smile lingered on her lips.
"Honestly husband didnât let me sleep last night , he was so much in mood "
Margaret's knife paused briefly. You shifted uncomfortably.
"Cecilia." You snap "Maybe we don't need to discuss this."
The room went quiet. Cecilia slowly turned towards you. Her smile vanished.
"What did you say?"
You immediately realised your mistake "I just meantâ"
"No."
She look so offended "What exactly did you mean?"
Margaret looked up "Cecilia."
But Cecilia wasn't listening anymore.
"You've been here for what? A few days? And suddenly you're telling me what I can and cannot talk about? You really are ill mannered."
You swallowed "I wasn't trying toâ"
"OF COURSE YOU WERE." The words came sharper now. "You walk into this house and immediately start acting as though you belong here."
Margaret stood "Enough."
"No." Cecilia's voice cracked through the room. "No, I'm tired of pretending. You know what your problem is?"
You blinked rapidly "Cecilia..."
"You think being young makes you special." The words struck harder than they should have. "You're not the first wife. You're not even the second."
Margaret looked horrified "Cecilia!"
"But somebody should tell her."
The older woman stepped forward "Cecilia, stop." Yet Cecilia continued. As though every insecurity you'd carried into this marriage had suddenly been given a voice.
By the end of it, your vision had blurred. You hated that. Hated that tears had appeared at all. You looked away quickly. Margaret saw. Her expression immediately softened.
"Oh, darling..." At that exact moment, footsteps echoed through the hall. Everyone turned. It's Jungkook he stopped the moment he entered the room. His gaze moved from Margaret... to Cecilia...and finally to you. Your eyes were red and suddenly, every single person in it looked guilty.
Cecilia moved first as she always did. She crossed the room quickly and wrapped her arms around Jungkook. " Honey ." To your astonishment, her eyes were suddenly shining with tears.
"She disrespected me."
You stared. Margaret stared. Even Jungkook looked mildly unconvinced. Cecilia buried her face against his shoulder. "I was only talking and she told me to stop."
Margaret looked as though she wanted to throw a fruit bowl. Instead, she walked over to you. "Look at me."
You tried looking away. Margaret gently cupped your face. She wiped away a tear that had escaped despite your best efforts. Across the room, Cecilia continued her performance.
Slowly, his gaze shifted towards you. Your eyes were still red. Your book still lay abandoned on the sofa. For several seconds, he simply studied you. Then he stepped away from Cecilia. Jungkook stopped in front of you.
"Look at me." Reluctantly, you did "Did you disrespect her first?"
You shook your head "No."
His expression didn't change "Did you insult her?"
"No."
"Raise your voice?"
Another shake of your head "No."
Jungkook nodded once. Then his gaze moved towards Cecilia. A terrible sign Cecilia immediately straightened.
"What?"
"Did she?" The room became very interested in the answer. Cecilia opened her mouth. Margaret folded her arms. Finally, Cecilia huffed.
"No."
Jungkook sighed quietly "Cecilia."
"What?"
"Apologise."
Cecilia looked genuinely offended.
"To her?"
"Yes."
"Butâ"
"Cecilia."
She stared at him. Then at you. Then at Margaret.
"I'm...sorry."
The evening settled over the estate in uneasy stillness. You sat curled on the sofa with a newspaper. At first, you only skimmed it. Then your eyes caught the headline.
JEON HOUSEHOLD SHROUDED IN MYSTERY: FOURTH MARRIAGE, DEAD FIRST WIFE, AND WHISPERS OF CRIME
Your stomach tightened. The article went on and on exaggerations, rumours dressed up as facts, cruel speculation about Jungkook, about Eleanor, about you. You turned another page.
A sharp voice cut through the room.
âDonât read that.â
You flinched. Jungkook stood near the doorway, tie loosened, expression unreadable but his tone wasnât. âDonât read that bullshit.â
Your fingers tightened around the paper. A question had been sitting inside you since the morning, growing heavier with every whispered rumour, every locked rooms . You lifted your gaze.
ââŠDid you really kill Eleanor?â
The air changed. Jungkookâs expression shifted not slowly, not subtly. It hardened his eyes darkened in a way you hadnât seen before.
âWhat did you just say?â
Your throat tightened you stood up.
âI justâpeople sayââ You didnât get to finish.
In a single stride, he crossed the distance between you. The newspaper slipped from your hands. Your back hit the wall before you fully registered what was happening. Jungkookâs hand came up fast but it wasnât around your throat. It was against the wall beside your head. The impact made your breath stutter. His other hand caught your cheek , not gently, but firmly enough to make you still.
âDonât you dare,â he said, voice low and shaking with something dangerous, âtake her name again.â
Your chest rose sharply. Fear spread through you before you could stop it âI didnât meanââ
âDo you hear me?â His grip tightened slightly, not hurting you but close enough that your mind couldnât tell the difference.
âNever. Say that. Again.â
Your eyes burned. You nodded quickly, breath uneven âOkay⊠okayâŠâ
From the side of the room âJUNGKOOK.â Margaretâs voice. She had entered without you noticing. Her eyes moved from him⊠to you⊠to his hand still near your face.
âLet her go.â
Jungkook didnât move at first. Then, slowly, he stepped back. Like something inside him had snapped loose. You slid down the wall slightly, shaking. Margaret was there in an instant. She pulled you into her chest.
âItâs alright,â she murmured softly, stroking your hair. âYouâre alright.â
You clung to her without thinking. Across the room, Jungkook stood very still. His breathing changed. His hand pressed against the edge of the table. His jaw tightened. Margaret noticed immediately.
âJungkookâŠâ
But he wasnât looking at her anymore. He was staring at you. Or maybe through you. His breath became uneven like he couldnât catch it properly.
âNoâŠâ he muttered under his breath. Margaretâs grip on you tightened. âY/N, donât move.â
Jungkook took one step back. His hand went to his chest. He looked⊠lost. For the first time since youâd known him he panicked and then his breathing broke completely and then he fell. Hard. The sound of it snapped through the room.
âJungkook!â Both you and Margaret moved at once. You reached him first, dropping to your knees beside him, your hands shaking as you tried to steady his shoulder.
âHey hey, look at me,â you said quickly, though your voice trembled. âBreathe⊠just breathe.â
His eyes were unfocused, chest rising unevenly. Margaret was already there, grabbing a glass of water from the side table and splashing a little on her palm before pressing it gently near his face.
âEasy,â she murmured. âYouâre okay. Just breathe.â Slowly, his breathing began to settle. The sharp panic in his eyes dulled still there, but no longer consuming him.
Only when his grip loosened did you realise how tightly youâd been holding him. Jungkook pushed himself upright, though unsteadily. The silence that followed was heavier than before. Then his gaze snapped to you. Something in him hardened again.
âDonât ever mention her name like that again,â he said, voice low and rough. âDo you understand me?â
You flinched slightly. He continued before you could answer.
âIf you do⊠youâll see something you wonât like.â The words landed like ice. âGo to your room.â
Your throat tightened. You didnât argue. You stood slowly, eyes lowered ââŠOkay.â And then you left.
Margaret stayed behind. Jungkook was still sitting on the floor, one hand pressed to his forehead, trying to steady himself.
âYou scared her,â Margaret said softly. His jaw tightened. âShe crossed a line.â
Margaret didnât look away âTruth is always bitter.â
When your sister ask you to sleep with her husband Jungkook in order to give birth to her child . But one night never meant to be one- when heart collide, it feels like a sin , but not when he was ready to cross every limits with you . And then the mircal happens your's and Jungkookâs child , even toh you just carrying the child for your sister , but afterall he's your child , your baby.......but how will you fight for your child and your love -who was never meant to be yours
Well lets see~~~~~
Part 1 :- Will you sleep with him
Part 2 :- i cant stay alone with her
Part 3:- i miss you
Part 4 :- sugar baby
Part 5 :- can I kiss you
Part 6 :- because I love you
Part 7 :- Truth and dare
Part8:- She's pregnant
Part9:- I hate that I love you
Part 10 :- Little human
Part 11 :- soft storm
The end.........
Pairing:- You Ă Jungkook ( your brotherin law ), Suha ( your sister) Ă Jungkook
you've tried, but you can't help yourself from crushing on your best friend's dad. hot, buff, tatted up and successful, mr. jeon is the starring actor in all of your wettest dreams. and as you wake up from one while sleeping over at his house after his daughter's birthday party, you don't expect all of them to suddenly come true. but they do.
â repost. originally posted as OLDER. from the grande series.
pairing: dilf!jk x inexperienced!fem reader
genre: smut, angst, dilf au, best friend's father au
contents: porn with some lots of plot, age gap (oc 21 | jk 38), dom jk, sub reader, voyeurism, messy blow job, fingering, oral (f receiving), bit of tit play (small chested reader yayy), two (2) spanks, unprotected sex, cum eating, dirty talk, a bit of degradation, but also praise, pet names, ANGST :P, she falls first he falls harder??? but miscommunication sadly, forbidden love
In the backseat of his car, you stare forward at his hands gripping the steering wheel. There's something hypnotic about the way his fingers curl around the leather. You bite your lips, an attempt to suppress the heat easily pooling low in your belly, your thighs rubbing together to conceal the effects of your lewd thoughts.
One in particular stands out. Itâs the one that puts a shameless, selfish smile on your face when you fixate on the fourth finger of his left hand lacking a gold band.
It's been a few months since that day â since Areum, your best friend, showed up at your door in a frantic state, her finger jabbing the bell over and over in a panicked rhythm that jolted you from your bed.
You had nearly tripped down the stairs in your rush to swing the entrance open, and when you did, you were instantly tackled by your friend collapsing into your arms, her tears soaking through your shirt.
Kicking the door shut, your hands busy embracing Areum with your eyes wide, you tried to steady both her and yourself. In between her uncontrollable sobs, shaking you to the core, she let her worries tumble out her mouth. Words came in a torrent, fast and breathless, barely giving you any time to fully process them as she buried her face in your neck.
It took a moment for the huge news to break through your thick, slowed down brain, but then it struck you, Areum chanting it repeatedly as if she couldnât grasp her mind around it: her parents were splitting up. Divorce was imminent.
Your own disbelief mirrored hers, but for very different reasons. You felt it in the way your shock turned into excitement; indecorous, depraved exhilaration, with your heartbroken friend still in your arms.
Even as her sobs echoed, your mind latched onto one single thought, repeating like a mantra: heâs single. Mr. Jeon is single.
You felt terribly guilty when you sensed a smile that you couldnât quite suppress stretching over your features, and the jittery sensation that came with it flowed your body and reached your hands, tightening harder around Areum to try and squeeze the shame out of yourself.
Since that day, youâve lost count of how many afternoons youâve spent at the Jeonâs house. You've been doing your best to be the friend Areum needs, to keep her company when what she fears the most is loneliness. Youâve been a constant presence, helping her through the mountain of neglected work she left piling up, distracting her with baking sessions, or mindlessly binge watching entire seasons of Friends on lazy evenings. Anything to keep her mind off the pain.
But each visit is an opportunity. A fleeting chance to see him. To study how he moves around the house with an intensity that still manages to feel like a calm, steady current filling every room.
Youâve memorized many of his mannerisms. The way his eyes soften when he looks at Areum; the way his mouth twitches into a faint smile when she tries to cheer him up; the way he nods at you in recognisment, silently letting you know heâs grateful for what youâre doing to help his daughter.
You wish you could help him too. In other ways. Ways you know you shouldnât be thinking about.
You canât avoid it, though. You've witnessed him come back home from work countless times now, watched the tension etched across his features as he steps through the door, wished you could be the one to ease it off his shoulders. Let your hand travel down his chest, reach his belt.
You feel disgusting unfailingly, but how can you not let your mind wander when he groans so deliciously every time he loosens the tie around his neck and kicks off his shoes?
You know exactly what his next move is, the imperceptible sigh melting the weariness off his face the moment he greets his daughter, a tender smile breaking through his exhaustion.
âAny requests for dinner tonight, girls?â He always asks, his gaze jumping between Areum and you on the living room couch, waiting for a response.
After your friend replies she likes whatever her daddy cooks, your stomach twists with nerves when his eyes meet yours to make sure thereâs no complaints, and you quickly shake your head, biting your lips to keep from saying something foolish. Is your dick on the menu? Perhaps?
And the man can cook. Exceptionally well. He moves around the kitchen with purpose in his every movement, each dish you have the honor of tasting better than the last.
While you help setting the table, you catch yourself staring more times than you should. You canât help but wonder if thereâs anything heâs not good at. Fuck. Is there even a single flawed bone in this manâs body? With every day you spend at his house, youâre convinced there canât be.
You want him to notice you, the same way you notice him. You tell yourself youâre just being a good friend to Areum, but you know thereâs more behind your constant visits.
Thereâs definitely more behind the way your skirts get shorter, your tops tighter, your bras purposefully not worn.
You feel crazed when you convince yourself his gaze falls upon your exposed thighs when he puts a plate in front of you at dinner, or when his eyes seem to be caught, only for a fleeting second, by your hardened nipples, evident through your poor excuses of shirts.
Even when your interactions donât go further than a brief exchange about college and Areum or quiet, polite smiles in passing, the mere thought of being around him sends a rush through your veins.
Youâve been seeking more and more of that after one particular night, your feet making their way down the stairs after Areum had fallen asleep and you had rathered take your leave. You found him stretched on the couch, a drink in his hand.
His eyes hazily followed your movements, voice low and slightly slurred, âAre you leaving already?â
Hearing him acknowledge you outside of the usual context of Areumâs presence made you stop dead in your tracks, your reddened cheeks turning to face him, the dark color spreading all over your features when you fully took him in.
He was cladded in a comfortable attire, one you almost never saw on him, black sweatpants and a gray t-shirt deliciously hugging his shoulders, the short sleeves revealing the intricate ink designs running all over his right arm.
You shook yourself out of your trance suddenly, stuttering, âHuh⊠yes. Didnât wanna be a bother.â
He chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine, âOh, youâre not. I wish all of my daughterâs friends were like you.â
His words hung in the air, filling it with sincerity and a sudden tension landing right on your chest. You quickly brushed it away with a laugh, a nervous, shaky sound escaping your lips, trying to mask the way your heart was racing with desperation for the gods to grace you with the depth of his tipsy voice all night.
To this day, you still think your horny and delusional prayer was heard when he nodded to the empty space beside him, lifting his glass slightly, âCare for a drink? Youâre 21 now, right?â
You only nodded shyly, more out of reflex than actual thought, slowly making your way to sit beside him just as he had instructed. The proximity sent a wave of heat through your body, your insides melting with the lava, the smell of his cologne and laundry detergent replacing the burned ground with a trail of flowers.
You were willing to do whatever he wanted from you at that moment, even if it meant downing the harsh liquor he poured into a glass for you. You took a sip, struggling not to grimace at the burn that followed. He smiled.
It was probably the alcohol loosening his tongue, but that night, for the first time, you saw a side of Mr. Jeon that he kept carefully hidden away, his vulnerability a strong characteristic of it.
His words tumbled out in an almost confessional tone. He spoke about his marriage, about how he had always felt somewhat trapped. Still a teenager himself, he was only 17 when he found out his soon to be wife was pregnant with Areum; 23 when they decided to marry. Voice soft but tinged with sadness, he admitted he never felt like he got to live his youth to the fullest, certainly blessed with his perfect baby, but also chained down by responsibilities and a tightening pressure he shouldnât have had to deal with at such a young age.
Then, with his eyes burning into your shiny and equally flaring ones, he paused just for a moment, and you felt he could see right through you, into the very core of your being. That he had you all figured out.
âWhen I look at you,â he continued, his voice barely more than a whisper, gaze traveling down your bare thighs, squished together on his couch, âI feel like I get a bit of that youth back. You're so full of life, so fresh, so⊠full of love for my daughter. I'm glad she has you. Glad we have you.â
As he found your orbs again, you noticed his had significantly darkened. You were sure your heart would have failed you if you had kept navigating in his gaze; instead, you looked down at your hands folded in your lap.
That night, he paid for your uber and insisted you sent him a text when you made it home. It was only read the morning after, and left unanswered.
Even now, youâre convinced that if it werenât for the whisky, those words would have stayed locked away in his mind, never seeing the light of day. Not even if he were forced to speak them at gunpoint.
Still, youâre grateful for the magical effects of alcohol and how theyâve brought you a tiny bit closer to give a look into his complicated world. It has awakened something in you, which led you to the conclusion that you always want to be there for him. Help him through the doubts and regrets. Be the youth he missed. Take the weight off his shoulders. Let him use you on that couch.
That feral, undomesticated monster inside you is a hundred times hungrier when, exiting the library building with Areum by your side, babbling in your ear about todayâs plans, you see his sleek Mercedes parked outside.
He honks, getting his daughterâs attention too, who excitedly walks over the car when she spots it. The sound works as a pavlovian trigger for you, it has your mouth salivating and your senses alert, catching up with your friend and getting in the backseat.
It has been a few weeks since you last saw him, both you and Areum too busy with assignments and outside activities, and his charming smile as he asks about the day cuts the breath from your lungs.
Youâre silent as your friend fills him in, your ears struggling to pick up her speech as it only takes a few more seconds for your eyes to be caught by an interesting detail, one that has your world rocked: he finally took his wedding ring off.
The wedding ring that has stood as an unspoken boundary between you and your reckless fantasies is gone. The realization hits hard, and suddenly your mind veers into dangerous territory, conjuring visions that feel too real. You can almost feel his left hand wrapping around your waist, pulling you in, claiming you. And the images are so vivid, so consuming, that you donât even notice when Areum nudges your shoulder.
You donât register her calling your name until the sound finally cuts through, pulling you back to the present with a jolt. You blink a few times, trying to ground yourself, before turning to face her, Areumâs voice light but her expression amusedly curious, âDad asked you a question.â
Your whole face drops, panic clear in your features, and heat immediately rushes to your cheeks. You've been zoning out, lost in a daydream about the very man sitting in front of you, the one you literally just ignored, too busy thinking of him. The irony is almost too much.
Your eyes find his in the rearview mirror, and the slight smirk on his lips only makes you look even dumber, stuttering all throughout your explanation, âSorry, Mr. Jeon. Iâ um. I was distracted.â
He simply chuckles, low and clearly not offended by your lapse in attention. His focus is back on the road, but as he speaks you keep yours on the words heâs directing at you this time, âItâs okay. And I always tell you, just Jeongguk is fine. I was asking about your day, you seem a little worn out.â
âOh. Iâit went well! I guess I'm just a bit tired,â the words feel clumsy as they leave your mouth, but you hope they sound convincing enough. You just canât stop your eyes from falling on his left hand.
âWell, you canât be!â Itâs Areumâs excitement interrupting your furious imagination and bubbling over, âYou need to help me set up for tonight. Then, weâre gonna do our makeup, our hair, and dress up. I'm so excited!â
Right. The reason why you could finally see Mr. Jeon after weeks and why youâre currently driving to his house is because itâs Areumâs birthday.
The day feels significant in so many ways. You're excited to witness your best friend turn a year older, especially with all the hardships sheâs been faced with. Honored that youâre the one sheâs chosen to help make this night perfect, ensure every detail is just how sheâs pictured this moment to be like. And you canât deny that you feel slightly nervous at the prospect of tonight, knowing there are going to be faces youâre not that well acquainted with. You'd say youâre a bit awkward with new people, but youâll try to bear through it for the sake of Areumâs happiness.
But mostly, you feel guilty. Because no matter how much you try to focus on your friend, the thought that truly makes your insides all mushy with fuzziness is the fact that youâre going to be in the proximity of her dad, again.
You crave for the smallest moments. The brief second where youâll catch his gaze. The way his cologne will subtly linger in the hallways of his home. Your eyes have a habit of drifting to his hands, those strong, veined, tattooed hands that move so smoothly whenever he speaks.
Even now, in his car, as you glance at his side profile, thereâs a ridiculous and almost cosmic sense of gratitude. Like youâve been chosen. Blessed by whatever God to exist on this planet at the same time as him, to simply witness his presence.
It should be enough. It really should. But youâre a sinner. You're greedy, wanting more. Always more.
That buzzing sensation sticks with you throughout the entire day, hours packed with anxious over-organization, both you and Areum moving as if every step had to be executed flawlessly. And with all the chaos, heâs there in the back of your mind. Mr. Jeon.
He helps for a while, joining you in the backyard as you set up for the evening, his calm demeanor in stark contrast to the whirlwind around you. But then he disappears into his studio, into his own space, leaving you to your tasks, and you donât see him until hours later.
Yet, you still feel him, as if heâs always near. His upstairs studioâs window faces the garden, and itâs enough to make you hyper-aware of your every gesture. You straighten your back, slow your steps. Because even though you donât know if heâs really watching, it feels like he is.
Getting your makeup, hair and outfit ready with Areum does slightly ease that sensation off your chest. You love these moments with her. Shared girlhood when you do each otherâs eyeliner, the flutter of excitement as you zip up dresses, as you rummage through her closet, searching for the perfect piece to complete your look.
But even then, youâre brought back to the man working just a few rooms down the hallway. It's astonishing how easily Areum has access to everything she wants. The power her dad holds, the kind of wealth that makes life feel effortless in ways you canât help but envy. For her, money isnât just something that buys things. It shapes her world. Itâs as simple as snapping her fingers.
You donât resent her for it, not really. But it makes you wonder what it would be like to live in a world where nothing is out of reach. Where everything, even the man who haunts your thoughts, could be yours with the right words or a simple gesture.
When you see him again, youâre standing in his kitchen. Areum is still upstairs, fixing the tiniest details to her makeup, but you decided to come down early, just in case the first guests arrive, wanting to be helpful, wanting to keep yourself busy.
Youâre momentarily lost in the view outside the window, the backyard garden bathed in the warm glow of fairy lights, soft hues blending beautifully with the sage and pastel yellow decorations. It pulls a small smile to your face, knowing your hard work paid off.
The quiet peace is soon interrupted by the sound of a cupboard cracking open behind you, and you startle, your heart giving a quick jump.
You turn, following the noise, and there he is â Jeongguk, bent over as he retrieves a bottle of red wine from the lower cupboard. As he straightens up, bottle in hand, he finds your eyes already staring in his. He's uncharacteristically deliberate as he lets his gaze wander up and down your figure.
Youâve dressed carefully for tonight, choosing a flowy pink dress that flutters delicately against your thighs. The corset top hugs your waist in all the right ways, accentuating your shape. Itâs the kind of dress that makes you feel just a little more confident, a little more seen.
But now, under his gaze, you feel rather exposed, as if heâs seeing more than just the fabric of your dress. His eyes linger, and when his orbs dip to your chest, itâs almost as if he hesitates, like heâs trying to tear his eyes away but canât.
Youâre not even sure if the engrossed look on his face is real or just the product of your own twisted fantasies.
Still, your body responds instinctively, your hand drifting up to play with your necklace, an unconscious gesture, while your other arm wraps around your waist, as if youâre trying to hold yourself together under the intensity of his stare.
When his eyes return to your wide ones, he gives a subtle nod towards your dress, and although the smile that curves his lips is warm you canât decipher that something else it wants to communicate.
His voice is smooth, literal honey, sweet and rich, dripping out from his pillowy lips, âWhat a beauty. You look very pretty.â
Now, you werenât expecting that. It steals the breath from your lungs. It's not just the words, or even the way he says them, velvet wrapping around your senses. Itâs how he seems to drink you in, his refined wine nothing in comparison. Like youâre something to be savored just as carefully.
At this point, youâre seriously questioning if there was a stronger substance in the liquor you and Areum shared earlier, even if you hadnât taken big quantities. But you figure it must have been enough to distort the current reality around you. Or maybe, Mr. Jeon is the inebriated one.
You don't know how you find the voice to speak, or if you even do, the word escaping your lips in an uncoordinated mess, almost imperceptible, âThanks.â
He hums deeply in response, and it vibrates through the space between you. You let out a shaky exhale the moment his gaze finally shifts away. He resumes the task at hand, effortlessly opening the bottle of wine and turning his back to you as he reaches for a glass from the higher cabinet.
The muscles in his shoulders shift under his shirt, and for a split second, youâre unsure what to do. Whether to stay, add anything else, flee the room entirely. Make small conversation about Areumâs birthday. Comment on his look, too. Oh, youâd have a lot to say about it.
You can tell he just wrapped up his work-related tasks for today from the way the first three buttons of his white shirt are opened, revealing his deep cleavage. His hair slightly tousled, but in a way that looks perfectly intentional, unintentionally. His slacks hug him deliciously, rounding the curve of his ass and making you swallow hard.
Your eyes canât resist trailing over him, but they quickly move up to stare at the ceiling, feigning deep thought when he turns back to face you and the counter.
Surprisingly, heâs the one to break the silence first, again. The rich sound fills the air as he pours his red wine, the motion so precise, so fluid, it feels like witnessing an authentic art form.
He doesnât bother looking up at you as he asks, seemingly casual, but slightly amused, âIs there a boy youâre trying to impress tonight?â
The way he steers the conversation makes you less agitated, suddenly confident. Especially with the question thrown your way. Teasing, almost belittling. You can see heâs not even trying to hide his pretty smirk, his focus on the wine flowing into the glass.
The question lingers, and you twirl your necklace around your fingers, smoothing down your dress with your other hand, your eyes flitting to his naked left hand, âMh⊠you could say so.â
Of course, youâre not thinking about a boy. Mr. Jeon is no boy â heâs a man. The kind women dream about but know theyâll never find. The kind that belongs on the big screen or in the pages of a novel, with his effortless charm, wealth, looks that stop you in your tracks.
But heâs in front of you. And heâs tall, muscular, with hands that could crush or caress, tattooed in a way that makes your mouth dry up and water all at once.
Itâs him you want to impress. You want to affect him the way he affects you. You want to pull him in, make him look at you the way he makes your world tilt on its axis with just a glance.
Youâre hypnotized as you witness him in one of his rich man activities, performing a ritual with the wine glass. He brings it to his nose, his eyes fluttering shut as he takes in the aroma. Itâs sensual, the way he handles the glass, its liquid dancing with precision, as if even this simple act holds meaning. You canât look away.
When he's satisfied, he finds you again, and your mouth is slightly open without you even realizing it. The moment he lifts the glass to his lips, you bite your own, almost harshly, your body reacting before your mind can catch up.
His smile is soft. He must know exactly what heâs doing to you.
Jeongguk mutters into the glass, his words resounding even stronger, âWell, heâd be a fool not to fall for you.â
The implications of his comment make you swallow audibly, while he downs his first sip of the wine with fine ease, his Adam's apple bobbing with it. The whole time, his eyes never leave yours.
A thick silence stretches between you, and you wish you could break it but you donât know how. Your mind spins with the unspoken tension, instead he seems entirely comfortable with it. He places the glass back on the counter, the soft clink of it slicing through the quiet. Smoothly, he nudges it in your direction, his movements slow, as if testing the waters.
His voice is inviting, even more than usual, âYou want to try?â
âIs that wine?â You instantly cringe at the way you sound strained.
He hums, a low sound of affirmation, watching you carefully. You briefly glance at the glass, "I've never had it.â
âHave it, then.â
With a slow twist of his fingers around the base, he slides the glass toward you. As it moves across the marble surface, you notice how he rotates it imperceptibly, but purposefully, so that the side where his lips touched the rim is now facing you. The gesture is subtle, but the intent behind it is clear. At least to your deranged fantasies.
Thereâs a faint lip mark where his mouth had been, and the sight of it pulls you in, making your pulse pound in your ears. You look back up at him, finding his gaze still on you, expression unreadable.
Without a word you lift the glass, your fingers wrapping clumsily around its stem. You bring it to your lips, mouth closing over the spot his lips had just pressed on.
The wine hits your tongue â bitter, sharp, and unfamiliar. You gulp hard, the liquid burning slightly as it slides down your throat. Your face scrunches involuntarily; the richness of the flavor is too much for you, and you canât help but grimace as the aftertaste lingers.
He watches, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. When you set the glass down, he effortlessly picks it back up and brushes his fingers across the rim.
His tone laced with amusement, he asks, âLove it?â
You shake your head quickly, trying to hide your discomfort.
His chuckle is low, a soft rumble that makes your stomach flip. Swirling the wine gently, he muses, "I heard thereâs going to be alcohol tonight.â
You grumble lightly, slumping your shoulders, âUgh, I know.â
The endearment rolls off his tongue like a secret meant just for you, his voice dipping into something softer, more intimate, âMake sure you donât drink too much, pretty face. I'll be around.â
Just like that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, your thoughts spinning. Pretty face?
What just happened? You're not so sure, but eyeing the glass left alone on the counter, you impulsively grab it and decide to gulp its remnants down, groaning immediately after. Taking wine as a shot might not have been the best idea, but youâre certainly going to need all the possible devices to shake this feeling off.
Itâs hard to do so, even as the birthday party kicks off. The energy in the backyard shifts as more guests arrive. Lively voices and unfamiliar faces begin to fill the space. Areumâs laughter cuts through the hum, infectious and bright, drawing everyone in. With your best efforts, you start engaging with others, smiling as you talk to some classmates and mutual friends, but itâs all surface-level. Your mind is elsewhere.
It's only later, as the evening progresses and the party settles into a rhythm, that you begin to relax. Mainstream music plays in the background and it inevitably involves everybody, some classic party games becoming the main entertainment.
Long after the cake and the gift-opening, the group gathers into a loose circle, throwing each other Never Have I Ever questions. You canât help the way you all are still too young, and how you still get foolishly excited whenever the topic turns hot and hints at anything that is sex related. Childish and immature, you know, but your ears still perk when the first probing question is tossed out.
âNever have I ever been fingered.â
Areum instantly shushes it, her eyes panickedly looking back to the house in hopes her dad isnât around. laughter bubbles just as quickly, both because of the question and the girlâs reaction.
As expected, many reach for their drink, and you do too. The few present boys holler in a teasing manner, gaining some eye rolls.
Sheepishly, the plastic cup touches your lips and you take the smallest sip of your punch. You canât appear unbothered like your other peers, your cheeks subtly flaming as the embarrassing memories rush to your mind.
Itâs silent, the small plea you telepathically send to anyone that might be listening. You pray for the topic to shift to something else, something that wonât inevitably put you at the center of the attention. Something you can relate to.
But of course, God is not on your side. The questions only dig deeper, wandering in uncharted territory (at least for you), and you never reach for your glass again.
You can only sink further in your chair the more everybody else around you seems even more lively with the way the game has turned, sharing their experiences, giggling as they listen and refill their cups. Beside you Areum buzzes with energy, and every question is just something for her to drink to, nothing that shocks her or that she isnât familiar with.
Never have I ever given head.
Never have I ever been ate out.
Never have I ever rode someone.
Itâs undeniable, your skin heating up. With how youâve been spending your whole day, fantasizing about the man whoâs probably already asleep in his bedroom by now, your friends sharing their adventures only fuels your imagination. You feel dirty when you put yourself in those scenarios, and for every daring moment they relive, the figure that appears beside you is always Mr. Jeon.
If only you turned your head, just for a moment, and glanced toward the kitchen window that faces the backyard, you would have seen the same man dominating your thoughts, staring intently at the scene unfolding outside.
Jeongguk is swallowed wholly by the darkness of the house, every light turned off. Maybe thatâs why neither you nor Areum notice him.
You donât see him. For once, you donât feel him. Youâre too caught up in the moment, too consumed by your own desires, unaware that the man that put you in that same condition is standing so close, watching.
Jeongguk intently studies how your face dips down at every new question, how your smile seems just a little too tight, too forced when listening to the stories, the ones that make you shift uncomfortably in your chair.
If you donât notice it, he does almost immediately â the moment the attention in the circle shifts toward you.
The glances thrown your way become layered with a subtle curiosity, laced with something that looks like concern. But then, in the eyes of a few, Jeongguk catches a faint trace of judgment. Itâs there, in the tilt of their heads, in the exchanged fleeting looks with one another, as if they sense your uneaseness and interpret it as something lesser. Something they can pick apart.
His jaw tightens as he observes, that familiar protective instinct stirring within him. It makes his hands twitch by his side, but he stays rooted in place.
Eventually, the moment you clearly seem to dread the most (it doesnât take a genius to know. Itâs written on your face. Or maybe, he got so used to studying you. It comes easy to him. Knowing you,) follows.
It makes you want to vanish into the thin air caressing your legs, how you can sense that the question is put out with intent, an only pretending-to-be-careful tone wrapping it, all pairs of eyes instantly directed in your direction.
âNever have I ever⊠had sex.â
You feel trapped, a momentary panic bubbling in your chest as you reach for your cup, hesitant. The rim hovers near your lips and you try avoiding every expectant glance, taking the smallest sip you can manage.
A murmur ripples through the circle. You canât decipher it, too busy feeling the heat spread across your face. It's only later that you realize no one else drank. The question had been crafted specifically for you, a test.
Lara exhales, a teasing smile playing on her lips, âWoah, I was getting worried for a second there, ___.â
You barely have time to react before Areum steps in, her voice sharp in your defense, âWhatâs wrong with never having had sex, either way?â
âNothing, butââ
Youâre not sure why you speak, and why you choose your speech that way specifically. You cut in before you even realize what youâre doing, driven by a sudden urge to explain yourself, an unshakable need to clarify forcing itself up your throat, "I only took a small sip, though.â
The groupâs collective curiosity spikes, attention zeroed in on you like never before. You feel it â everyone waiting for you to continue, to reveal something youâve kept to yourself until now. So, you give in, words tumbling out against your better judgment.
You clear your throat, straighten your back against the chair, your tone evasive, âI technically am not a virgin, but⊠When weâ did it, he um⊠he got his tip in, butâ God, this is embarrassing.â
âCâmon, tell us!â
You sigh, pressing forward with an explanation they do not deserve, âHe came, like, two seconds after. So, I felt nothing.â
The laughter that erupts is immediate, your friends covering their mouths in shock and amusement. You can only chuckle nervously, shrinking in your seat with a deep, liberating exhale.
Yunjin pats your shoulder beside you, âThatâs so sad, babe. We need to find you a real man.â
A strange sense of relief courses through you, the adrenaline from finally being acknowledged and validated by your friends swelling within. You donât know why, but you keep talking, oversharing, feeding into the newfound attention, âOh, I've been waiting for one in particular.â
You quickly become the center of attention for different reasons than the previous ones, now. Voices overlap, but you dismiss them all with a playful shake of your head, giggles bubbling up as you try to evade their questions.
But just as quickly as the moment came, it fades when you glance to the side, and your smile drops.
Jeonggukâs eyes meet yours immediately.
The intensity of the gaze knocks the breath from your lungs, and you immediately straighten in your seat.
Heâs been watching the entire time, arms crossed, muscle in his jaw tensing as his tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. Thereâs an unusual frustration etched into his expression, a subtle irritation with your friendsâ behavior. But itâs more than that.
Your confession had softly revealed your inexperience. Your innocence. The untarnished parts of you heâs only beginning to realize he wants to corrupt.
Truth is, heâs known for a long time. Longer than heâd like to admit, really. But heâs never let himself feel it fully until now. It wasnât something that hit him all at once. No, it crept up on him slowly, over the months. Heâs always known you were beautiful, in that distant, untouchable way. Youâre his daughterâs best friend, after all.
But he couldnât help his eyes from lingering on you a little too long when youâd come over to hang out with Areum, how heâd feel the tension of his work day melt when heâd let himself be coddled by the warmth of your helping actions, the way his muscles would instead tense when heâd catch sight of you lounging by the pool.
Heâd been good at keeping it under bay. But you werenât subtle, not even the slightest, and it all made it harder. Even more when youâve been nothing but the proof that angels exist, and at some point he convinced himself you were sent on Earth to fill the void he felt his whole life, with your unconditional care towards his daughter and your pupils widening whenever theyâd land on his.
Maybe it was seeing you tonight, all grown up and standing there in that dress, hugging your figure deliciously. How you carried yourself, confident yet unsure, mature yet untouched.
Hearing you talk about your inexperience, about that brief, awkward encounter with a boy who clearly didnât know what he was doing. Watching you squirm under your friendsâ teasing questions, witnessing how you tried to explain yourself.
Itâs like it all clicks into place for him. And for the first time, heâs letting himself acknowledge it.
Jeongguk wants you.
He knows itâs wrong. So wrong. He's never felt this way about someone so much younger than him, and yet, the need to be the first one to truly touch you, to show you what it means to be wanted by a real man, makes his blood run hot.
Yet, he feels disgusting. Selfish, his stomach swirling with nerves. Dirty, his fingers twitching and begging to free his insides from such feelings.
Thereâs simply no ignoring it anymore, no pretending like youâre just Areumâs friend. That boundary he set in his mind is starting to blur. He's old enough to know better, but old enough to know exactly what he wants.
Your eyes widen with terror, meeting Jeonggukâs own hardened gaze. He wants to tell you, wants you to know, but the way your startled expression lingers in his narrowed eyes makes him hesitate.
The contact is abruptly interrupted when one of Areumâs friends, an older kid sheâs met through her dadâs colleague, crashes into you from behind, draping his weight over your shoulders.
You struggle not to stumble forward, holding yourself on the arms of your chair while you look to the side, and immediately try to pull away when you realize the unwanted proximity.
But youâre weaker than the boyâs embrace, holding you still and wiggling his eyebrows, his tone playful as he ruffles your hair, âIs it me?â
The people around you laugh, but the way your body stiffens, the clear discomfort in your eyes â Jeongguk notices. And he also notices (reluctantly) the ugly feeling making space in his stomach the more that guyâs face moves closer to yours. His jaw twitches, the muscle at his temple ticking.
He canât just stand there doing nothing anymore.
The sudden sound of the door to the garden opening catches everyoneâs attention, and your gaze flies over in that direction.
Jeongguk steps out, presence commanding, and Areumâs eyes grow wide, instantly sensing something wrong in the way her father is looking at the scene. His eyes are too dark, too sharp, and if no one else detects it, you and his daughter surely do.
Still, the taller boy behind you moves up again, taking a step back from your seat, and Jeongguk seems to reserve him a look you find hard to decipher.
âAreum,â he calls, soft but firm. Sheâs quick to move toward him, and you canât help but try to listen in on what heâs saying to her.
But the voices rise again, loud and boisterous, filling the space with chatter, drowning out any chance you had of overhearing. You sigh, returning to your slumped position on the chair. As you do, you canât ignore how all the girls around you are sneaking glances at him, their giggles piercing through the air as they whisper among themselves.
Jeongguk has always had a certain effect on people, and tonight is no different. You hear some of their comments, but they donât fully register in your mind. All you can focus on is the bitter feeling rising in your chest.
You bite the inside of your cheek, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. It sickens you, the way you have to share the image of him with everyone else. You wish only your eyes had been granted the gift of looking at him, of admiring the way his shirt stretches across his chest or how his hair falls perfectly, even when tousled. Instead, heâs a spectacle for everyone to enjoy, and you hate it.
When Areum returns, itâs with a slightly slumped posture and her energy deflated. Behind her, Mr. Jeon stands with his arms crossed, a small, condescending smile tugging at his lips.
Areumâs voice is low as she announces, âThe partyâs over, guys.â
The subtle groans of disappointment echo around you as your friends gather their things, saying their goodbyes and slowly trickling out, only after trying to argue about it, giving up when met with no possible negotiation. Once the last guest has left, itâs just the three of you, left to clean up the remnants of the night in the dimly lit garden.
The air is tense on your skin. You can feel it in every movement, every glance that passes between you and Jeongguk, though he barely looks at you now. His focus is elsewhere. On the mess, on Areum, on anything but you. Itâs silent for a while as each one of you picks up their own task. Teamwork seems to be efficient, every area of the backyard slowly regaining its original aspect.
Until Areum yawns dramatically, stretching her arms above her head as she makes her way over to you and her father. She mumbles, blinking heavily. "âM so sleepy."
Jeongguk raises an eyebrow. He teases lightly, voice tinged with a hint of amusement. "Oh, really? Youâre just gonna leave all this mess behind?"
For a moment, you and Areum both freeze, glancing at each other with wide eyes, unsure if heâs serious. However, you donât seem to notice Jeonggukâs lips curling into a soft, knowing smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
âJust kidding,â he chuckles, tone warm now, the joke clear. âGo sleep, câmon. Itâs past your bedtime.â
Areum sighs with exaggerated relief, rolling her eyes before stepping forward to wrap her arms around her dad in a loose hug. She mumbles into his chest, âIâm not a kid anymore, dad. I donât have a bedtime.â
He chuckles with a lightness foreign to you until that moment, and he leans down, pressing his lips gently to the top of her head, voice a low and tender whisper, âWhatever you say. Happy birthday, Reumie.â
Itâs such a simple moment, nothing grand or elaborate. Still, you watch them with stars in your eyes, completely captivated by this rare portrayal of vulnerability from Mr. Jeon. You almost feel like an intruder, yet you keep contradicting yourself when you canât help but want to be part of it, too. Want to bask in his love, the one he keeps hidden but the same one that shapes him whole. That fills him from head to toe, never spilling, always quiet. Makes him the brave man you only know through your best friendâs admiring eyes, never from his words.
He doesnât like talking about himself, but youâd kill to know what truly goes through his mind, even for just a second. Youâd gladly settle in a cramped house in his brain, pay rent and everything.
When Areum finally pulls away and turns to you, her expression sleepy but content, she asks, âYou coming with me?â
You hesitate, glancing at the mess still surrounding you. You speak with a small, reassuring smile, only looking at your friend, âI'll be there in a minute. I wanna help clean up first.â
She just shrugs, too tired to argue, and heads inside. Jeongguk's eyes follow her briefly before flicking back to you.
His lips part as if he wants to say something. Maybe to insist that thereâs no need to help, that you should join Areum inside and get a good night's sleep. But the words never come. Instead, he watches you silently for a second longer, before turning his attention back to the garden.
Now, itâs just the two of you.
The quiet between you isnât uncomfortable, but itâs heavy. The subtle hum of the night seems louder now without the chatter of party guests, and the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze fills the air as you move around the small round tables, readjusting the chairs.
Youâre trying to focus on the task at hand, but your mind keeps drifting to other regions. In your distraction, you clumsily trip over your own feet, your breath catching as you stumble forward.
Before you can fall, though, a strong hand grips your arm, steadying you instantly.
âOops. Careful, little one,â itâs Jeonggukâs deep voice murmuring close to your ear, the warmth of his touch grounding you.
Your face flushes immediately, heat spreading across your cheeks and down your neck. âSorry,â you whisper, glancing up at him through your lashes, feeling ridiculously small under his intense gaze.
âItâs okay,â he instantly replies, tone so gentle it almost makes your heart falter.
Silence falls again, but this time, itâs thicker, and maybe even uncomfortable. You both remain still for a moment, his hand loosely gripping your arm, and you feel yourself burn where his fingers rest. His thumb brushes your skin lightly, a subtle, almost imperceptible gesture, but itâs enough to make you gulp audibly.
Finally, he releases you, stepping back slightly, but his eyes never leave yours, "Thanks for making my daughter happy today. I really appreciate that. I appreciate you."
Your mind races, trying to find the right words to respond, but all you can manage is a stutter, âOh. Iââ
His voice is firmer when he gently cuts you off, âGo sleep now. I'll finish here.â
You want to protest, but the way heâs looking at you â dark eyes locking onto yours, holding you in place even with his hand now by his side â makes it impossible.
Thereâs something about the way heâs speaking, like heâs being careful with his words, almost spelling them out, making sure youâre paying attention to each one, âIf you need anything, you know where to find me. Yeah?â
You swallow hard, nodding slowly. His gaze is unwavering, and it feels like heâs saying something more than just the words themselves, something you canât quite grasp yet. You stammer, âRight. Yes. IâIâll⊠goodnight.â
âGoodnight.â
Itâs not exactly a good night for you. In a sense, maybe it is. You always welcome dreams like these when they decide to visit. But right now, it feels more than a little awkward.
Worst timing ever. Youâre lying next to Areum, the daughter of the very man whoâs making you wet with just a few flashes of imagery dancing behind your closed eyelids.
At first, itâs soft, almost serene. You see a beach, engulfed in warm, blurry tones that blend together like watercolors left to bleed in the sun. The sea is flat, unmoving, and glimmers like pearls under the flaming light.
A weight presses down on your exposed thigh. The sensation feels so vivid that it pulls you deeper into the dream, and as you glance down, you instantly recognize the large, familiar hand resting there.
Jeongguk's hand. His left one. On the fourth finger, a gold ring.
When you lift your head, his face greets you with a wide, unusual smile. His hair is wet, slicked back as if heâs just come out of the water, droplets clinging to the tips. He bites his lip, and you see it. A double piercing sits on the side of his mouth, the silver studs gleaming as he plays with them using the tip of his tongue. Your breath catches in your throat. You donât just see it there. On his eyebrow, a matching piercing catches the sunlight, giving him a rebellious edge.
You remember them from old pictures Areum showed you once. Jeongguk, in his younger days, rougher, wilder, and undeniably charming.
It must have left a deep impression on you because your subconscious has dug it up now, weaving it into this dream. Deep in your slumber, you unconsciously whine.
His hand kneads the soft skin of your leg, and his grin stretches wider, eyes crinkling into familiar crescents, but with an edge youâve never seen on him before.
"You wanna take another bath?" His voice is husky in your ear, filled with suggestion. He's leaning in now, closer, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your skin. Before you can say anything, his hand slides higher, fingers grazing the hem of your swimsuit. "Come on. Just you and me."
Jeonggukâs hand is still playing with the laces of your bikini, and heâs slow and teasing as he pulls one of them. When he fully undoes it, youâre bare in front of him.
But he doesnât look down just yet. He keeps staring in your eyes, his smile gone now, replaced with something more serious, more focused.
Jeongguk leans closer to your ear, pillowy lips brushing your lobe, and it feels way too real when he whispers, âLet me make you feel good.â
Itâs with a jolt that you wake up, the low sound still echoing in the depths of your brain, and you struggle to take in your surroundings at first. On your right, Areum is sleeping soundly, even snoring softly. You'll tease her about it in the morning.
If the thought initially puts a smile on your face, it morphs into a frown when you register the reason why youâre now awake, and you brim with guilt. You have to get away from your best friend. Need to get away from your brain, if possible. Wash it all with a glass of cold water.
You make sure not to cause too much noise as you slowly sit up, the covers falling from your figure and the air welcoming you with goosebumps on your skin. Your naked feet tentatively touch the ground and you force yourself to stand on them, padding on the floor and exiting the room, gently closing the door behind your shoulders.
At first, you only hear it. Faint, muffled noises; fussing; heavy panting; groans.
You blink rapidly, convinced your hazy brain is still cozily wrapped around the blankets, finding it hard to let go of the images that had flashed behind your eyelids and adapt to the new state of consciousness.
But as you make your way to the stairs, the sounds get closer, and more vivid. It's not just your mind playing evil games anymore.
Itâs shushed moans, and eager whines. And they seem awfully close to how youâd always imagined Mr. Jeon would sound like. In that situation.
Having lost control over your own brain a long time ago, it feels like youâre now being ordered around by it, no freedom of choice whatsoever.
Your feet move on their own, following the source of that delicious music, and you swear your eyes get teary with joy when you find that the door was left ajar.
You feel delirious. The small gap is more than enough to give you a view into what you never thought youâd have the honor of witnessing: the man of all your desires has his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing it, then dragging it up and down in slow movements that you just know are torturing him, from the way he harshly bites his lower lip, to the way his furrowed eyebrows almost meet at the bridge of his nose, eyes focused on his doings.
Nonetheless, he loves it. His mouth opens every time he brushes the tip of his thick dick with his palm, releasing small whines, followed by quiet moans when he uses his other hand to play with his balls.
He cusses repeatedly, then grips his base and halts his movements. Only to go over the punishing pattern again, bringing himself closer to the edge then retraining when he feels like stepping over it.
The sight of Mr. Jeon edging himself makes your knees weak. It takes over you physically, you genuinely have to find support in the wall beside you.
You need to be there with him. You need it to be your hand; need him to guide it just the way he likes it; need him to teach you how to please him. His groans make your head spin, and you need to get closer.
Youâre not thinking when you instinctively take a step towards the slightly open door, but when you do, the floor cracks under you.
Youâre paralysed. In the silence of the house, wrapped in night time, the otherwise small sound is amplified, and he stops his hand.
With the little power you still possess over your actions, you move your back to the wall beside the door. Your breaths are ragged, too overwhelmed with the mixture of fear and lust, and you think of running away to hide but a huge weight is chaining you down, and you find yourself unable to move.
You can only register fussing from the other side, the soft thump of his feet on the floor and the door opening alarmingly. When he looks to the side, heâs met with his expression mirrored on your small face, your eyes wide but willing themselves to keep looking in his.
If you were to look down, youâre not sure you could keep yourself composed, knowing his cock is hard and unattended in his pajama pants.
â____? What are you doing up?â His voice quickly takes on the calm that characterizes him so well, instilling some of it in your startled figure.
Still, you stutter all throughout your answer, making it clear what you just spied into with the way your face changes color, âIâ Water. I wantedâ Thereâs no, huh, water in the fridge.â
Mr. Jeon does a weak job at hiding the confused amusement on his features. Nonetheless, he nods, a small grin on his lips while he says nothing, just walks to the stairs and makes his way down them. You follow hastily, careful not to trip.
There's plenty of water in the fridge, but he doesnât question it. He takes out a bottle and pours a glass for you, sliding it over the counter.
You take the smallest sip, afraid you might choke with the way he stands facing you, staring so intensely into your orbs.
When you put the still full glass down, he smirks. You see his hands gripping the edge of the table in front of him, âNightmare?â
The depth of his voice translates into heat pooling right in your lower stomach and staining your shorts. You're a mess just from the blurred sight of him. You shake your head, âMore like⊠a weird dream.â
He smiles taut, having to break the prolonged eye contact and look elsewhere, his grip getting tighter and his patience wearing thin.
He wonât be able to control himself much longer if he doesnât get out of this kitchen, especially with the effects of your effortless charm flooding down his pleading dick.
Youâre in front of him, eyes fond with a feeling that scares him, only the counter dividing your bodies, and youâre wearing the tiniest satin shorts paired with a white tank top that leaves little to the imagination, the cut dangerously low and your nipples evident through the material.
Heâs a gone man.
His eyes no longer anchoring you, your gaze automatically travels to where you shouldnât be looking, for your own sanity. The outline of his cock is so delicious, it makes your mouth water with want.
Youâre not sure if itâs your own eyes deceiving you, but you swear you can see it throb, and at that moment you realize heâs not wearing any underwear. Just thin, loose pants covering his length.
You gulp, clenching around nothing. You feel him sigh, and the sound makes your head spin with greater force.
He looks back at you, but youâre too enthralled by your current view, the effects of it almost completely shutting out your hearing and your rational thinking, as you round the counter and leave his words hung in the air, "I'm sorry for⊠what you probably saw. Shouldâve closed the door.â
Apology silently dismissed, or simply ignored (why would he even apologize for blessing you with such an unforgettable sight?) you now stand next to him. As he turns to you, youâre faced with his chest, and you have to bend your head upwards to meet his curious eyes.
Your body has long forgotten to trust the thin amount of rationality that could still be found in your brain, and thatâs how you find yourself leading your hand to cup his cock through his pajamas.
His face is stoic, staring at you intensely. He doesnât startle, doesnât gasp, doesnât move away. But you feel him. If the contact does something to him, he doesnât show it. He keeps looking down at you, in your eyes.
Then, he speaks, his voice steady, âWhat are you doing.â
Youâre suddenly aware of your actions, and you fall victim to them, feeling small because of his stern, composed gaze while you feel like melting under it.
Your voice is frail, barely a whisper, too weak to sound as convinced as you truly are, and your words come out slurred, âWanna help you.â
He doesnât break, doesnât seem affected by your desperation, but his pupils are blown out, knuckles white from grasping the counter, âYou already did enough.â
Your hand is still on his clothed dick, unmoving. No one dares break the moment, though. If anything, being this close to him, feeling him while you both search for something in each otherâs eyes, is only spurring you further.
You get on your tip toes, your perky nipples brushing against his chest, your voice low while you tilt your head to the side, âWhat were you thinking of? I'll be that for you.â
Immediately, his hand flies over yours. He doesnât move it, just holds it still. The look in his eyes is a lot darker, his eyelids droopy, his jaw clenched, âStop this.â
The electrifying spark that buzzes you the moment you feel his skin travels from your hand to your whole body, and it significantly weakens you.
You donât know if you fall to your knees because they genuinely give up on you, but itâs how you find yourself facing his hardness, your eyes never leaving his glossy ones, highlighted by the dim light shining through the curtains of his kitchen.
â___. Get up.â Thereâs a tremor in his voice, and the hand that was blocking yours now falls by his side, twitching.
You see it in his eyes. Sense it in the tension of his muscles. He's holding back. But you donât want him to resist you.
âPlease,â your beg is muffled and quiet, your nose brushing against his length and following a torturous path that makes him hiss.
He groans deliriously, willing himself to tear his orbs off your big, pleading ones staring up at him, but he doesnât do anything to move you away.
âFuck,â the chuckle that follows is feverish, his body on fire with the forbidden, but so wanted touch, âDonât make me have to reject you, doll.â
âYou donât have to,â youâre unexpectedly quick in your answers, your conscience coming back to you but letting it be taken over by a dark feeling, the one that makes you kiss his tip through the thin material, and lick along his length, finding his eyes, "I want you.â
Jeongguk inhales, his lower lip bleeding with the harsh biting, and he swears his knees are shaking with the effort of keeping even the slightest, thinnest thread of sanity intact.
He wishes he could stop you. Knows he should. But he can't. He can only watch as your slim fingers hook under the hem of his light pants and lead them to pool down his ankles.
The way his cock springs free and brushes your smooth, pure face makes him huff out a deep exhale, his jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed as he takes in your eyes widening at the sight of his length.
Mr. Jeon is long. And thick. He's veiny, and perfectly shaved. It looks almost unrealistic, but heâs in front of you in all his glory and he throbs. Leaks pretty precum to coat his angry tip.
He doesnât know how he manages to speak, especially when you look up at him through your droopy eyelids, pupils blown and tongue ready to take him.
His voice is rough, as if it wants to stay stuck in his throat, but he forces one last warning out, â___. Donât do it.â
Any and all kinds of inhibitions are nonexistent the moment you attempt a kitten lip at his wet tip, and the simple action makes his head fall backwards, a way too loud growl escaping him. His breaths are heavy, broad chest moving with them as he looks down at you again, too tempted to look elsewhere.
He curses as soon as he does, his lust-filled orbs swimming in your equally craving ones, and he believes this view is crafted by the hands of a God, not slightly comparable to anything his mind came up with back in his room, not too long ago.
The reason why heâs gotten rock hard under his covers, itâs you. The yearning he couldnât suppress anymore, the hunger making him salivate, the need to be consumed by your love, the desire to be touched by you, to be cured by your innocence, only to taint it.
Heâs thirsty, wants to drink all of you in. Wants to finally have you, taste you, feel you. He's tired of fighting it.
Jeongguk doesnât know how to decipher his heart doing literal flips in his chest when you fully take his cock in your mouth, and he lets out a sound heâs never heard his own self ever produce. Itâs high-pitched, whiny, delirious, and it leads himself to subtly push himself forward, to bury his length in your throat.
You inevitably choke at the new sensation, your eyes fluttering shut to keep the tears welling up under your eyelids from spilling out, but you go relentlessly, just as hungry.
You tentatively bob your head up and down his length, messily taking him as best as you could, probably accidentally scraping him with your teeth a few times, and you try to make up for it with your swirling tongue, slurping thirstily.
He almost coos at your eagerness, and as badly as he wants to bask in the sensation, having to keep himself from pounding into your mouth, he holds your silky hair in a ponytail and gently pushes you away.
When you find him again, your eyes are glossy and your eyebrows drawn up with worry.
You donât want this moment to end. You donât want your insecurities to be proven right, donât want him to ward you off, to still think of you as nothing more than a childish girl with an evident crush. You're on your knees for him to finally see you.
Jeongguk instantly reads your thoughts.
His voice is quick to sooth you, a sweet smile painting his face with an expression you rarely see on him. It's soft, just like his voice, âCome up here, angel.â
You want to listen to him, want to follow his every order. But youâre not sure how to when heâs regarding you with a care youâd never thought would be directed at you, one that empties you of any strength. When the pet name rolling off his tongue that easily seems so natural, you want to think itâs all heâs ever seen you as.
With a delicate tug at your hair, he leads you on your feet again. Still, youâre weak, your chin falling on his chest as you look at him through your lashes like heâs hung every single star in the sky.
His hand leaves your locks only to cup your face, promptly helping you stand straight to study your features.
If he didnât know better, heâd say youâre high off the strongest substance you could find. Your pupils cover your orbs in a dark, wide circle, a lazy smile on your pink lips as you let yourself be handled by him, no control over your body, almost falling over his bigger one again before he steadies you by your hips.
He lets out an amused chuckle at the state youâre in because of him, and he hopes you know just how much youâre affecting him, too. He wants to swallow you, pill after pill, overdose on you.
When heâs sure you donât need his help keeping you still anymore, leading your palms to rest on his wide shoulders, he takes your face in his big hands and forces you to swim in the intensity of his gaze.
His words are spoken slowly, a low whisper fanning over your lips, âIf I kiss you now, I won't be able to control myself anymore.â
Your eyes jump relentlessly between his own orbs and his mouth, the latter winning the battle when you fixate on it, and speak just as weakly, âPlease, kiss me.â
You barely manage to get the words out before Jeongguk is all over you. He devours you, pushing your lips open and finding your tongue, playing with it in a mess of slick and heavy breaths.
His fingers travel through every angle of your body they can find, pulling your face impossibly closer by your nape, leaving goosebumps along your bare arms wrapping around his neck, falling down your torso and squeezing harshly as they rest by your sides.
Your moan is inevitable when his palms reach down the curve of your ass and shove you against him. You feel his hardness meet the softness of your lower belly, his wet tip poking at it and making him hiss on your lips.
He does his best to swallow all your sounds, your muffled whines and whimpers his favorite meal as of now. It's a wince of slight pain that you let out as he positions you in between his body and the counter, the border pressing on your lower back.
When he moves from your kiss, even with your lungs being unable to breathe anymore and begging for a break, your head follows his movements to try and bring him back on you again.
The chuckle he lets out is almost belittling, the right side of your face being completely engulfed by his palm to put distance between your mouths, his other hand keeping you still by your waist, and his own hips push against you.
You quickly glance down to where your bodies meet, and you whimper when you take in the way his cock is just above your core, his balls brushing against your clit. You only need to lift yourself a little forward to fully feel him.
But itâs like he instantly knows whatâs making your head spin, his grip tighter but still mindful not to hurt you. The sudden squeeze has your eyes finding his, feeling ridiculously smaller under the weight of his heavy gaze.
He makes sure you keep your whole focus on him, and as much as registering the way your orbs are glossy with anticipation and desire is making him almost regret his next words, he lets them out, steady but soft, in your face.
âYou had your fun, baby. Now, youâre going to listen to me. Hm?â
This time, your reaction comes promptly following his request. You're hanging from his lips, tracing their every move and sound, immediately nodding at the order.
Itâs not enough, and Jeongguk ensures to sound a bit firmer, âUse your words.â
âYes, Mr. Jeon.â
The way your response rolls off your tongue with seemingly no hesitation, your pupils still on his, the words you choose to say, make him let out an amused chuckle.
Your eyes widen, and he drinks in your state, cheeks flushed and lower lip trembling. You need to bite it in order for it to stop shaking when he narrows his eyes, his left palm rising from your hip and finding its way under your top, his remark making you startle, âYouâre such a bad girl. Arenât you?â
Jeongguk makes up for the way more tears seem to well along your bottom lashes by cupping your small breast in his larger hand, swirling his thumb around your nipple, and you need to fight against the loud moan traveling its way up your throat, the choked sound getting stuck as your mouth hangs open, your eyebrows furrowed.
It only takes some more of his degrading tone for you to let out an unashamedly loud noise, his fingertips pinching your nipple, âCalling me that only because it gets you off. Doesnât it? Youâre not so innocent after all, angel.â
He quickly swallows your sounds with his lips on yours, and both of you canât help but hum lowly at the contact. Jeongguk thinks he could keep kissing you for hours on end. But he badly wants to feel every other inch of your body, too.
Unexpectedly, the kiss gets broken when he turns your body around with ease, your back now pressing against his front, and you steady your shaking figure by planting your hands on the counter.
The access to your ear comes effortlessly, he just needs to bend his head down to cover your height difference and make sure his whispered words meet you as close as possible, âIâll give you what you want. But you need to be quiet and good for me, understood?â
Youâre not sure if you should use your voice or stay silent, but your body doesnât give you the chance to ponder over it before letting out a whiny Yes. Youâre not exactly being quiet, but can he blame you?
The man youâd get to talk to for more than five minutes only in your dreams is now promising you heâs going to give you what you want. And his cock is perfectly nestled in between your ass cheeks. You're positive youâll have to throw your shorts right in the bin after heâs done with you.
Though, the scoff resounding in your ear makes you regret not even trying to lower your volume. You really want to be good for him. Donât want to disappoint him.
Thatâs why when he taps two fingers under your chin, without him having to express it for you, you part your lips open, tongue out. From the corner of your eye, you see the side of his face scrunched with a long dimple before he shoves the digits inside your wet mouth.
You instantly wrap yourself around his long fingers, coating them in your warm slick, and you can tell itâs affecting him with the way the hold on your hip tightens, and he shifts between your thighs.
With your tongue swirling around the two digits, your eyes search for his face. Looking up at him through your lashes, you clench around nothing when you take in the effortless way he towers over you, his body engulfing your whole smaller figure.
The sinful eye contact leads him to spur you on further, his voice rough with desire, âThatâs right. Suck on them like you would my cock.â
You hum deeply at the encouragement, fluttering your eyelids shut as you energetically bob up and down along his fingers. You think you can still feel the taste of his precum lingering on your tongue, and you whine, wishing you could have him again.
The noise gets cut from your throat when he forces his digits out, the slicky sound lustful, and it makes him groan lowly.
With his other hand, he delicately pushes your head forward to bend you over the marble counter, the same one where hours ago he passed you his glass of wine to take a sip from.
The surface is cold against your cheek and heâs out of your vision as he stands straight. Not being able to see what heâs doing, the expression on his face as you lay folded for him, makes the anticipation flood even stronger in your veins.
You feel him pull your shorts down enough to reveal yourself to him, hear him hiss as heâs enthralled by the way your pussy glistens, all for his eyes to admire.
The curse that follows is instant, âFuck. No panties?â
Youâre embarrassed for your straightforward bareness, whimpering at his surprise with your fist tightening and your nails imprinting crescents in your palms, but youâre also so impatient to feel his touch.
Tentatively, you wiggle for him, hoping to brush against his length, but itâs to no effort as he instantly stills your movements with a hand on your lower back.
He scoffs incredulously, feeling your bare ass against his palm, âItâs like you knew this would happen. You dirty, naughty girl. Always giving me those eyes.â
Itâs light, the spank that meets the side of your butt, but you gasp nonetheless. You need to bite your lower lip harshly in order to suppress the loud moan from escaping your throat, and youâre sure it bleeds when he strokes the spot he hit.
The hand soothing you now travels to your front, torturously putting pressure on your sensitive stomach and following a slow pattern, only to reach your wet core.
He finally touches you where youâve been needing him the most, and you both groan when he uses his already soaked pointer and ring finger to spread your lips, his middle one tracing your slit.
You inhale deeply as he repeats the motion, and when you exhale you canât help small whines from leaving you, the pleasure already too overwhelming.
You feel like passing out when his body weight presses on you again, his mouth directly on your lobe, the intention in his voice dripping on your skin, âYou think I wouldnât notice? You know how hard my cock gets everytime I see you in these tiny clothes of yours, huh? Youâre quite literally the death of me, doll.â
Then, itâs like all your senses come back to you the moment he pushes his digit in, and he immediately reaches around you to put his other hand over your mouth the second he sees it opening, your eyes rolling up.
You cry in his palm, the sound muffled with his fingers tightening under your jaw, his body still leaning on yours. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear and stills his middle finger inside you, getting you used to his presence, âShh, princess. Good baby, youâre doing perfect.â
The contrast to his earlier shaming tone only makes you whine more, your eyes squeezing closed to try and keep the noises in. Youâre sure you bite his palm when he starts moving inside you, the finger curling tentatively and soon being joined by another one.
You shake your head weakly, feeling yourself reach delirium, and you manage to stammer out, âCanâtâ canât do this.â
âYou can baby, câmon. You wanna be a good girl fâme, donât you?â His tone is still low, warm breath fanning over your nape, and you melt under the sudden change in attitude.
You nod, not because you believe you can actually get through this without your heart failing and the whole neighborhood hearing you in the process, but because you do want to be his good girl.
He hums, âThatâs right. I need to stretch you out if you want to take my cock.â
You choke in his wrap, now looser around your face, surprised at his words, and you clench hard at the mention of his cock inside you. You throw your head backwards in search of more of his proximity, and you mumble nonsense, your brain completely melted, âYes! Want your dick.â
âI know you do, little one,â with your head nestled between the crook of his neck, his hand now falls to your throat, and he holds you gently by it while his fingers pick up a faster pace.
He's ruthless as he moves them inside you, effortlessly finding your sweet spot with a curl of his long, tattooed digits, and you whimper at the foreign sensation, unable to moan like you really want to.
You feel like screaming the more he keeps going, the only possible reaction to what is happening to you. One moment ago you were dreaming of this, and now itâs your reality.
Mr. Jeon is fingering you and calling you his good girl. His large figure is behind your smaller one bent over the counter, his palm around your throat, his hard length pressing against your ass.
The moment he uses his thumb to flick at your clit, you arch your back into him and you hear him fight to suppress a surprised moan.
âShit. Youâre so impatient, sugar. Dripping around my fingers. Wanna taste your sweet juice, can I?â Itâs a rhetorical question, hushed slurredly in your ear, because after he lets it out his fingers leave your hole, and find a new home on his warm tongue.
He purposefully moves your chin to make you a witness of his sinful action, humming deeply around the taste of you, his eyes fluttering shut, his digits popping out drenched.
Your mouth hangs, your tongue unconsciously peeking out as if asking to be made a participant, but Jeongguk only smirks and stands straight once again, his wet hand leaving another light spank on your ass cheek, âTurn around, sweets.â
You do as asked, making sure your palms are still steadying your weight on the counter now behind you, afraid your legs alone wonât be able to. You soon find out you wonât have to put much effort into that when Jeongguk lifts you with ease and sits you on the surface, your slickness meeting the cold marble.
You donât have to lift your head to look at him anymore, your heights now the same. But finding yourself directly in front of his hardened gaze makes you feel even more intimidated.
Especially when he traces your inner thigh, his eyes never leaving yours, âEvery time you stand up to leave after dinner, you always leave a puddle on my chairs. And Iâm left to clean it up.â
You swallow audibly at the accusation, and you can feel your eyes water once again, biting your lips to conceal the shame.
He only grins amusedly at your state, the tip of his tongue coming out to play with his lower lip. The hand on your leg now forces it to move to the side, his face only getting closer to yours, his tone deeper, "I've thought about licking it up, you know? But then I always stopped myself, because I knew I'd get to taste your pretty, wet pussy.â
You gasp, a shaky moan leaving you uncontrollably, and your fingers hover over his figure, wanting to find support in him but unsure whether to touch him.
He finds your mouth in a short kiss, almost reassuring, but heâs back to spitting sins the moment he lowers his face between your spread legs, and the way he looks up at you is almost scandalous. He looks devilish, his orbs visible through his lashes, his tongue wetting his lips. He takes your uncertain hand and places it between his tousled hair, directing himself to you, instructing you how to use him.
He presses a peck above your clit, still drinking in your reactions, his smile wicked, âI knew youâd crumble soon. You little minx. Going after your best friendâs dad. So naughty.â
Your head is thrown backwards at his words, ones that only add to the pleasure that takes over you when he latches at your pussy, the wet sounds ungodly.
The shame and guilt mixing in the back of your mind generate a profane sense of bliss youâd never think you could reach, and even though deep down you feel dirty being confronted with the truth he sputtered out so easily, you canât help getting off to it right now.
Jeongguk is ravenous as he finds your drenched lips, lapping furiously at them and drinking the juice that continuously drips out. He flicks the tip of his tongue up and down your swollen clit, and your hand that he himself put on top of his head now tugs at his curls, forcing him closer to you. Heâs trapped, your legs squeezing around his head, his nose nuzzled in your slit, and he canât stop the hand that reaches to stroke his pleading dick.
You think you hear him mumble something along the lines of taste so good as he teases your hole with his wet muscle, and youâre a gone woman the moment you look down, your eyes fluttering open.
His own are closed, brows furrowed in deep concentration, his nose relentlessly grinding against your sensitive nub, and the way he seems so affected by the act of pleasuring you breaks something inside you.
You feel it begin to crumble when his tattooed hand reaches up to lift your top just enough to expose your breasts, nipples hardening with the cold air and the stimulation, and you swear they hurt deliciously when he starts kneading at your boob, fondling it with care.
The deep hum generated from his throat vibrates against you, and the flick of his thumb around the center of your tit matched with the way your clit is being continuously abused unexpectedly leads you to your orgasm.
Itâs fast, unannounced, and you find support in his hair, your body taking over your brain and relentlessly grinding against Jeonggukâs face, suffocated between you, unable to stop reaching for the heavenly, and so awaited high.
Your whines are frantically high pitched, but the moment he feels you cum all over his mouth everything around him disappears except you, and all he cares about is slurping you, drinking you as you let it all out because of him.
He pants, breathless, opening his eyes to witness your climax, to admire you breaking under his doings, chest swelling with pride and a primal sense of protectiveness.
When he hears you whimper the more he keeps sucking on your clit, your slim fingers pulling at his locks, he finally lifts himself up.
On the path he follows to come back up to meet your face, he finds your nipple with a sweet kiss, his tongue teasing your nub, and he smiles against it, teeth gently pinching it. When seeking with his eyes for your reaction he sees your own rolling back. Next, his mouth is on yours, smearing your wetness all over your lips and mixing it with his spit on your tongue, connecting in a frantic, hungry dance.
His forehead rests against yours when he breaks the kiss, breaths heavy, the lazy grin on his face the only thing you can focus on, hanging on his gentle words, âDid so good, babe. Came so hard all over me.â
Your eyes inevitably fall down to his cock, painfully hard against his stomach, the tip angry and slicked with precum.
You feel your core buzz, kissing him to conceal the unshameful desire building up so fast again, but still you canât help from mumbling against him, âWanâ you to fuck me.â
The hum of pleasure coming from his throat reverberates on your lips, and he smiles at your confession. Even chuckles, one hand resting at your hip and sliding you closer.
âThat what you want, baby?â Your legs wrapping around him, he kisses along your neck and travels to your collarbones, leaving small bites to keep himself from marking you like he truly wants to.
He slips his palms under your thighs and lifts you up the counter effortlessly, your legs squeezing tighter around him in order to keep yourself balanced. The new position has his cock perfectly meeting your core, your slit brushing against his tip as he walks you two over the living room couch, his mouth promptly swallowing your whimpers.
When he lays you on the sofa, he straightens himself to fully admire you. You're sprawled for him, your hair framing your head like a halo, the sweat pearling your forehead adding to your angelic state.
Your hands are on either side of your face, fingers dainty and slender, and your tank top is lifted up enough to show him your small breasts, slightly spilling from the sides with the new position.
Your shorts still rest under your ass, and with a swift motion he fully takes them off you, giving him access to your center. But the attention is taken away from your wet cunt when he lets his eyes come back up to your face, your cheek resting on your shoulders, trying to hide your embarrassment at his ravenous observing.
He smiles, becoming impatient with the feeling that only grows inside him, and he walks out of his pants still pooled down his ankles, taking off his loose t-shirt and letting it fall on the ground.
Your eyes widen at his sculpted physique, now finally in front of you, his buff dimensions intimidating you, especially when your orbs follow his V line and put you face to face with his huge cock, so close to your watering hole. He teases it with his length, sliding it up and down your slit, then slapping it against your clit. You arch your back, groaning.
âAm I the real man youâve been waiting for? You wanna be fucked by this big man, donât you?â His sinful words only make you nod dumbly, becoming potty under his control.
At your eagerness, he wastes no time. Aligning himself with your hole, he enters you. The stretch is deliciously painful, his tip boldly splitting you open for him. He knows your wail is coming, so he lowers himself on you to block your sounds with his mouth. But, truly, heâs the one that needs to be silenced.
The moment he feels your tightness around his bare dick, he growls. His sounds grow more desperate as he sinks himself deeper, the grip on your waist enough to wreck you, and youâre expecting it to leave a mark
You hum roughly against his lips, your nails scratching along his shoulder blades in search of any kind of grounding you can find. Itâs too much, his dimensions way oversized for what your hole can take, and the fact that you canât help but grip him even tighter isnât helping.
He reads you, your broken whines and the tear falling from your left eye, and the moment he bottoms out he stills himself, his face in the crook of your neck, his nose nuzzling the warm skin in a reassuring manner, âShh, baby. I got you. Let me make you feel good.â
The whispered words are the same ones that jolted you from your sleep, the dream almost too real, and paired with his middle and ring finger circling your sensitive nub they cause you to emit a pleasured squeal, your chest arching into his.
At this point, youâre afraid youâre still trapped deep in your slumber. that none of this is actually real, it canât be. Youâre so convinced that itâs just too good to be true that you test it, scraping your nails harshly in his back, and when he bites the skin under your jaw in protest you gasp shakily.
It's definitely real. Jeongguk is fucking you. Almost. Not yet.
With the way your clit is being stimulated by his long fingers, the initial sharpness turns into more slick, and you impatiently groan, âFuck me, please.â
One final kiss is left on your lips before he lifts his torso up, his hands roaming along your sides and grasping a hold of your tits. He teases you with a playful smirk on his face, your disappointed pout only resulting in a devilish chuckle from him as he massages your soft boobs. You can feel him throb inside you the more you swallow him in, and you know heâs just as impatient. You buck your hips up in search of friction, and the sudden motion makes the both of you moan.
Heâs suddenly resolute as his palms fall to your waist and effortlessly holds it up as he begins fucking into you. With each stroke he picks up his pace, and heâs soon pounding your tight hole wrapping around him.
The both of you find out itâs impossible to be quiet. Your sounds are stuttered and pornographic, and it makes Jeongguk afraid heâs never going to be able to get them off his brain.
His own noises are heavenly, deep growls and surprised whines falling out his pillowed lips, slightly agape in bliss, brows drawn up.
Your eyes roll back and never come back, your vision patched, and you think you werenât built to survive this kind of pleasure. It's almost deathly when he finds that one particular spot that makes you see stars.
Your skin slapping is louder than his hushed speech, but he makes sure the words reach you and translate into wetness coating his length even more, drenching it, making it soaked in your juices, âThatâs how you need to be fucked. Thatâs how my girl needs to be fucked, hm?â
âMhm, fuck, yes!â Itâs breathless, but you want him to hear you. You feel yourself get closer just watching him smirk proudly at your state, his pupils blown out.
His palms are back to playing with your breast, kneading it harshly, and you enjoy the way he seems to be hypnotized by the vision, âFuck. Love your tits. Fit just right in my hand. You were made for me, angel.â
Your head is thrown back between the cushions, your legs wrapping tighter around his ass and pushing him even deeper, the anticipated sensation building simultaneously in both of your trembling bodies.
âI'm not gonna last long, baby. This pussyâs too tight. Trappinâ me inside it,â Jeonggukâs voice is rough, the words leaving him slurredly and all his effort put into snapping his hips against yours, his eyes focused on the relentless in and out motion.
You wail, mumbling nonsense, but at the same time the most sincere words youâve ever sputtered to him, âItâs yours, Jeongguk. Fâfucking yours. Forever. Ahâ fuck.â
He hums, feeling you contract around him the more he speaks to you, âThatâs it. My pussy to fuck, baby. Mine to play with, mine to fill up.â
Your eyes widen at his territorial remarks, and when they meet his hazy ones they water with overwhelming ecstasy. The possibility of his cum filling you up is what does it for you, your nerves undoing once again and making you spasm around his throbbing dick. He talks you through your orgasm, praising you for cumming so good all over him, drinking in your blissful sounds and your hips rutting against his.
Heâs just as close, and the realization that you came the moment he mentioned painting you in his seed makes him a crazed man, his motions stuttering sloppily, âFuck. Arenât you a naughty one, doll. You really want me to come inside you? You want it, huh? I bet you do.â
Your repeated nodding and the way your body is so pliant in his hold, letting it be completely handled by him with no functioning muscle, pervades his senses with a primal force that he puts into fucking your sensitive cunt.
He smirks wickedly, âYouâd look so pretty. All stuffed. Want me to fill up this tight pussy? Want my mature cock in so deep you canât breathe?â
You think you scream at his continuous suggestions, but you canât be sure when all your senses are clouded, the oversensitivity turning you into a literal doll for him, no power over your actions. He looks just as fucked out, his lips parting as he basks in the feeling of being in control of you, eyes fighting to stay open and keep you in his vision.
When he feels you contracting around him in overstimulation, his breath stutters and he feels himself reach the peak, quickly pulling out of you to spill his cum over your naked skin. You gasp at the sudden emptiness and the warm liquid that keeps falling over your stomach, his cock being pumped in his fist and milked from all he can give you. You both pant in exhaustion, your legs loosening their grip around him as he dips his weak knees on either side of you on the couch.
He hums when he fully takes in your figure, marked by his cum, and he smiles when he sees your eyelids struggling to not fall. But you spasm once again when you feel his finger slide over your stomach, the wet liquid being collected, âNow, you gonna clean this up for me. Open your pretty mouth, baby.â
You donât even ponder on the request, you just follow the order. Your brain is reduced to thoughts that are only related to him, and it automatically complies to anything that he orders from you. You engulf his digits promptly, swallowing his semen, looking up at him through your lashes and unashamedly clenching at his lazy smirk.
He makes sure every drop of his is collected and sucked by your hungry mouth, smiling when you donât ever complain, âMh, good girl. Get them neat.â
Only when heâs satisfied, he hovers over your face and finds your tongue in a sensual, slow kiss, both of you moaning at the exchange. With a sloppy sound, he parts from you only to disappear between your thighs, his eyes mischievous, âGonna clean you up too.â
You gasp at the feeling of his mouth wrapping around your core once again, slurping your juice and lapping at your inner thighs, and youâre not sure how this is going to help in getting you clean. You only feel yourself becoming even wetter.
Leaving a kiss above your nub, he straightens up with a boyish smile softening his features, and with the fond way heâs looking at you, nobody could tell he just made you cum twice.
He moves your bangs from your forehead, closing the distance between you once again to leave small pecks over your still reddened face, âYou did amazing, doll. Made me cum so hard.â
You hum contentedly, snuggling closer to him, your body unconsciously gravitating toward his warmth. Your hand lifts to thread through his hair, but before you can touch him, he shifts, pulling away.
The warmth he provided vanishes, replaced by the cold emptiness of the couch. Panic surges in your chest, washing away any remnants of fatigue. You prop yourself up on your forearms, eyes tracking his movements.
You donât want him to leave you here alone, bare and vulnerable, maybe a bit confused and uncertain, and deep down deathly scared of whatever will come after this.
Your brows furrow, heart picking up a painful speed when you see heâs getting dressed â tossing on his shirt, pulling on his pants. And for a second, your pulsing organ clenches with dread. Is he leaving?
Then you notice him picking up your shorts from the floor, his expression softening as he walks back to you with that same gentle smile that had made your heart flutter earlier.
Relief washes over you.
He handles you delicately, as though youâre something fragile. His fingers brush your skin as he slips your shorts back on, pulling down your top before encircling your waist with his strong arms.
You squeal lightly when he pulls you onto his lap, settling back on the couch with you cradled against his chest. His hands never leave you, securing you to him. You settle into him easily, sighing in appreciation as the warmth of his body returns, your legs draped across his lap, arms circling his neck.
For a brief, fleeting moment, everything feels like itâs in its right place, like this is where youâve always belonged. It feels so natural, so easy, being wrapped up in him. His deep, slow breaths lull you into a state of calm. His chin rests on the top of your head, hand rubbing soothing strokes along your spine.
You press even closer, breathing him in, feeling like you could get used to this, like you already have. Like youâve always known this is where you should be. Your fingers trace absentminded patterns along his tattooed arm, the one holding you secure under your legs. You feel the need to look at him, to admire the man that marked you as his.
But when you glance up, youâre a bit startled when you notice the shift in his expression. His face is hardened, jaw clenched tight. He's not relaxed like he was just moments ago. His gaze is distant, staring intently at a spot across the room as if lost in thought. Yet his hands continue to cradle you, almost unconsciously, like holding you has become second nature to him.
Jeonggukâs mind is a whirlwind of emotions, and they only scatter all over the place as he feels you move closer, impossibly so. You seek warmth, care. Nuzzle your fragile body against his for protection, something more that he fears he canât give you. Love.
He once thought heâd drained himself of it, had nothing left to offer. Now, with you in his arms, the smallest spark flickers to life, burning its way up his throat until it feels like itâs going to consume him.
He wants to give in. He wants to hold you tighter, trap you against him, keep you with him. Give you everything.
But he canât do that to you. Canât make you go through the same path that took everything from him. not without ruining you in the process.
He knows what comes next. What always comes next. Love turns into suffering, itâs inevitable. And could he survive seeing the look on Areumâs face when she finds out? How would she react if she knew the truth about what heâs done, about how he feels? About how he truly wants to act upon his feelings? The thought makes him feel sick, even as his heart beats steadily against yours, comforted by your presence.
Why doesnât he feel disgusted? Why isnât there shame gnawing at him, making him pull away? Instead, thereâs only bliss. The sheer joy of having you this close, of holding you like this, makes him forget everything else.
He wishes he could be immature, for once. Wishes he was your age, and that nothing truly mattered. That he still could allow himself to make stupid decisions.
Maybe then, youâd be his, and reality wouldnât catch up to him.
âJeongguk? Are you okay?â
Your soft, honeyed voice pulls him from his spiral, and he startles slightly, caught off guard. His eyes meet yours, wide and filled with concern, searching his face for answers.
He tries to hide the storm brewing inside him, forcing a smile, but it doesnât reach his eyes. âHuh? Yeah. I'm okay.â
Of course, you donât believe him. An ugly feeling makes space in your stomach, and the weight of everything begins to press down. You donât want it to take over you just yet, want to be coddled by the moment a little more, want to try and believe thereâs nothing to be afraid of.
You offer a tentative smile, hoping to ease whatever tension is growing between you. âYou⊠you seem worried.â
âI'm not, baby. I'm just thinking.â
âAbout?â
âStuff.â His voice is clipped, and the small wall heâs building between you becomes clearer.
The distance stings, and your heart sinks as you try to hold onto the moment that felt so perfect just a second ago. Desperate to reach him, you place your hands on his face, tilting his chin down to meet your gaze.
Your eyes glisten with emotion, but you manage a genuine, if small, smile. âYou can tell me, you know. You can talk to me.â
One simple, small smile spreading across his lips makes you doubt all of your worries. It makes you want to believe that maybe, thereâs truly no reason to be scared. That maybe, this can go well.
âI know,â itâs whispered on your face, his hand coming to play with the hair that frame your cheeks sweetly. âLetâs get you to bed now, hm?â
Before you can protest, heâs lifting you off the couch with ease, cradling you in his arms bridal style as if you weigh nothing at all. You clutch onto him.
You feel your insides fuzzy with the gesture, and you wiggle yourself closer in his embrace, looking up at him expectantly, âYour bed?â
It breaks his heart having to disappoint you, tone soft as he tries to make up for it with his thumb brushing your thigh, âNo, baby. You gotta go back to Areumâs room.â
âButâ but⊠I wanna sleep next to you,â you plead, your voice small and almost childlike as you pout up at him, hoping to sway him.
He looks away, focusing on the stairs as if looking at you would break his resolve. âWe canât, dove. You know we canât.â
His words feel like a punch to the gut, and your eyes well up. âWe can't?â
The silence that follows is louder than any answer he could have given, and it weighs heavy between you, suffocating. There's no actual explanation to it, and the realization leaves both of you uneasy.
At Areumâs door, he sets you down gently, making sure youâre steady on your feet. He's careful with you, like he always is, his voice low, âGo wash up. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?â
âNoâŠâ
âCâmon, sweetheart. Don't make this harder.â
You frown in protest, keeping eye contact, but he doesnât break. His gaze is steady, resolute.
You want to argue, want to push, but the exhaustion settles over you, and you slump, defeated. You still sway sweetly for him, your hands tied behind your back, âOkay⊠Can you kiss me?â
Your voice is small, muffled behind your pout as you seek for him with anticipation, a sheepish smile making its way on your lips.
When he doesnât move closer, you get on your tippy toes and lean in his direction once again, your eyes almost fluttering shut before you hear him clear his throat, and take an awkward step back.
Youâre back on your heels with a thump, the same one reverberating in your chest with your heart falling, your mouth hanging open with confusion written all over your expression.
You go to say something but heâs quicker, his voice solemn, âGoodnight, ___.â
Jeongguk smiles, but itâs nothing like the ones that took over his whole face just minutes ago on the couch, his eyes full of you. You're not even sure if you can define it as a smile. Itâs polite, almost too polite, and it only results in feeling tremendously distant from him. Completely disconnected from you.
He retreats, long legs carrying him away, his back to you as he slips into his room. The door clicks shut behind him, the sound final, and it echoes in the hollow space.
You stand still, the weight of his absence pressing heavily on your chest. The spot where he left you feels like a grave, your feet sinking into the cold floor as if itâs pulling you under. The warmth he offered, the fleeting sense of safety, is gone, and youâre freezing. Your throat is tight with the effort to hold back the tears welling in your eyes. It's useless, though.
Your bare feet shuffle against the floor, but you canât move forward. You canât go back. You canât do anything except stand there and feel the weight of it all crash down on you.
Youâd been so afraid this would happen. How could you have been so foolish? Even in the midst of the sweetness, you knew it was too good to be true. A part of you always knew. And yet, you let yourself believe for a fleeting moment that something real could come from it. That you could be enough.
Youâd have done anything to prove it to him. To show him your loyalty, your willingness to make it work. You still would. You'd give him every part of yourself, if heâd only take it. If heâd only look at you the way you want him to.
The full weight of your reality sinks in. In the end, none of it was truly real.
A sob breaks free from your chest, raw and painful. The sound echoes in the quiet hallway, bouncing off the walls that now feel oppressive, like theyâre closing in on you. This house, every corner, itâs all stained now, tainted by the memory of what just happened, by the lie you let yourself fall into.
Summary:- For years, you called her your best friend. The safest word for what you were. You had Jungkook , she had Jin. Everything was supposed to be simple. Until a few stolen glances became lingering touches; lingering touches became a kiss ; and a kiss became something neither of you could forget.
Pairing:- You Ă Jungkook, Jin Ă Jisoo , JisooĂYou
Genre:-Romance | LGBTQ+ | Slow Burn| Cheating | Friends to Lover | Drama | smut | Lesbian sex ( haha I'm nervous)
Author's note: I wrote this very randomly, I mean VERY RANDOMLY. I chose the topic, yes, but after that my mind simply stopped working. Itâs just a beginning for now; Iâm not even sure how it feels yet.
Masterlist
Part01 :- Yearning
.....................................
The first thing people noticed about you and Jisoo was that neither of you knew how to exist separately. Like how your hand automatically searched for hers while crossing roads. How she opened your water bottle before you even asked. How you could identify her footsteps in a crowded hallway without turning around once. People stopped questioning it years ago.
âChildhood best friends,â theyâd say with a shrug, as if that explained everything. Maybe it did. Maybe it didnât.
âY/n!â
Your head snapped up from the cafeteria table just in time to see Jungkook walking in with two iced coffees and the same stupid grin that made half the college think he was trouble. He looked like trouble too. Black hoodie. Rings on his fingers. Tattoos peeking from his sleeve. The kind of face mothers warned daughters about. Too bad he was the biggest loser alive when it came to you.
âBaby,â he complained dramatically, putting the coffee down in front of you, âI almost died waiting in line for this.â
âYou say that every day.â
âBecause every day I suffer.â
You laughed as he leaned down instantly, resting his chin on your shoulder like a clingy puppy who had finally found its owner again.
Across from you, Jisoo calmly sipped your untouched juice without asking permission. Next to her, Jin looked personally offended by the cafeteria lighting.
âThis college lacks proper economic structure,â he announced. âThe sandwich prices are inconsistent with product quality.â
Jisoo deadpanned, âGood morning to you too.â
âIâm simply educating the masses.â
âYou failed macroeconomics last semester.â
âThat was a political decision.â
You burst out laughing while Jisoo quietly lowered her head into her hands, already exhausted. This was normal.
You, second-year economics students. You and Jungkook dating since high school. Jisoo and Jin somehow surviving whatever strange relationship they had since high school too. Everything was normal. Comfortable. Predictable. So predictable that nobody noticed the small things anymore.
Like how Jisoo absentmindedly fixed your necklace while talking to Jin. Or how you stole fries from her tray instead of your boyfriendâs. Or how both of you always sat pressed shoulder-to-shoulder even when the bench had enough space. Small things. Meaningless things. Probably.
âYou know,â Jungkook suddenly said, narrowing his eyes at you and Jisoo, âsometimes I feel like Iâm third-wheeling my own girlfriend.â
âYou are,â Jin replied immediately.
âHyung!â
Jisoo smiled softly, shaking her head and for a second, looking at her like thisâsunlight touching her face, eyes crinkling slightly when she smiledâyou felt something strange tighten quietly in your chest. Something you ignored immediately. Because this was Jisoo. Your Jisoo.
The girl who married her doll to your doll when you were seven because, according to her tiny self, âthey looked happier together.â You still remembered it clearly.
The tiny plastic rings. The blanket veil. The way both of you genuinely cried when your cousin tried separating the dolls afterward. You didnât know why the memory suddenly came back now. Maybe because Jisoo looked at you the same way she did back then.
âWhy are you staring at me?â she asked quietly.
You blinked quickly, looking away first.
ââŠNothing.â
The apartment door barely closed before you threw your bag dramatically onto the couch with a loud groan.
âIâm dropping out,â you announced to the ceiling. The door clicked shut behind you. A second later, familiar arms wrapped around your waist from behind.
Jungkook buried his face into your neck instantly, pressing lazy kisses against your skin while humming.
âMy princess looks exhausted,â he murmured. âIâll make something delicious.â
You melted back against him automatically. âBaby,â you whined, dragging the word painfully, âour midterms are next week. I donât wanna study.â
âThatâs crazy.â
âIâm serious.â
âThatâs even crazier.â
You turned around in his arms with a dramatic glare. âYou donât understand my pain.â
Jungkook gasped like you had insulted his ancestors âI stayed awake till three helping you make color-coded economics notes!â
âAnd they were ugly.â
âThey were beautiful!â
âThey looked like a childrenâs birthday invitation.â
He stared at you in betrayal before grabbing your face dramatically âYou wound me every day.â
You burst into laughter while he squished your cheeks together, completely offended. God, he was pretty. Annoyingly pretty. The type of pretty that made no sense when paired with how ridiculous he acted around you. Most people in college found him intimidating. Meanwhile this man once cried because you called a stray cat âcuter than him.â
âYou know what?â he declared suddenly. âNo dinner for you.â
You narrowed your eyes. âYou wouldnât survive two hours without feeding me.â
ââŠThatâs actually true.â
âExactly.â
He sighed deeply before kissing your lips .
âYouâre evil.â
âAnd youâre obsessed with me.â
âObviously.â
The answer came so fast that you snorted. Jungkook grinned proudly, following you toward the kitchen like a shadow.
âYou should feel honored,â he continued. âMen would fight wars for a woman like you.â
âName one man.â
âMe.â
âYouâd cry after ten minutes.â
âIâd cry beautifully.â
You laughed again, louder this time, the sound filling the apartment so naturally it almost felt stitched into the walls by now. While Jungkook searched the fridge dramatically like a struggling single father, your phone buzzed against the counter.
A message from Jisoo.
survived jinâs three-hour lecture on supply and demand. barely.
You smiled instantly. Without thinking. Jungkook noticed immediately.
âJisoo?â
âMhm.â
âWhat did she say?â
âSheâs being bullied by her own boyfriend again.â
âTragic.â
âShe needs help.â
âShe needs a new boyfriend.â
You giggled while typing back quickly.
Across the city, Jisoo stared at herself in the mirror for the fifth time that night. The soft black nightdress hugged her figure perfectly. Her hair fell neatly over her shoulders, and the red lipstick alone had taken twenty minutes because she kept getting nervous halfway through applying it. Why was she nervous? It was just Jin. Her boyfriend. Of three years. Still, her heart beat annoyingly fast when she heard the room door unlock. Jisoo quickly sat on the couch, pretending she wasnât literally waiting for him.
The door opened and in walked JinâŠwearing a fluffy star headband. A green face mask covered half his face while he calmly sipped beetroot juice through a straw like a retired wellness influencer. Jisoo blinked slowly.
âWhat,â she asked carefully, âis this.â
âNight skincare.â
âYou look insane.â
âBeauty requires discipline.â
âYouâre drinking beetroot juice.â
âIt improves blood circulation.â
He finally looked up at her properlyâThen paused. Jisoo straightened slightly. Okay. Finally. A reaction. Jin stared at her silently for a few seconds before speaking in the calmest voice possible.
âThe color red lipstick combined with exposed collarbones creates high consumer attention,â he continued thoughtfully. âVery effective visual advertising.â
She stared at him in disbelief âIâm trying to seduce you.â
âI know.â
âAnd THAT is your response?â
âIâm complimenting your strategy.â
âKim Seokjin, I swear to Godââ
He finally laughed softly, walking closer while still holding his ridiculous beetroot juice.âYouâre cute when angry.â
âI donât want to be cute right now.â
âHm. Understandable.â
Jisoo crossed her arms, genuinely annoyed now. Meanwhile Jin casually sat beside her like she wasnât having a crisis. Then, after a moment, he leaned closer quietly. Close enough for his voice to soften.
âBut if we remove the economic analysis,â he murmured, eyes flicking over her face properly this time, âyou look really hot tonight.â
Jisoo instantly looked away first ââŠTook you long enough.â
âI like observing before investing.â
Jisoo rolled her eyes dramatically before suddenly grabbing Jin by the neck of his hoodie and pulling him closer.
âStop talking like a textbook for one second,â she complained.
Caught off guard, Jinâs hand tiltedâand cold beetroot juice spilled directly down the front of her black dress. Both of them looked down slowly. Jisooâs jaw dropped. Jin blinked once.
âWait, wait.â He immediately put the glass aside, trying not to laugh. âLet me remove the dress before the stain settles.â
Jisoo smacked his arm instantly âYOU SOUND INSANE.â
Jin finally burst into laughter while Jisoo grabbed the edge of her ruined dress dramatically and stormed toward the bathroom.
âYouâre sleeping on the couch!â
âThatâs economically unfair!â
The bathroom door slammed shut. Ten minutes later, after changing into oversized pajamas and successfully surviving her embarrassing seduction attempt, Jisoo sat cross-legged on her bed scrolling through the pictures she had taken earlier.
The lighting had actually looked pretty. The lipstick too also the deep neck . With a sigh, she opened your chat and sent the photos anyway.
Meanwhile, in your apartment, the lights were already dim. Jungkook was half-asleep on your chest, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist like he physically couldnât sleep unless touching you somehow. His hair tickled your neck every time he breathed.
Your phone buzzed softly in the dark. You glanced down. Jisoo. Your lips curved instantly. The pictures loaded slowly one by one.
Black dress. Red lipstick. Soft eyes staring into the mirror, the faint line of her cleavage. Your fingers paused over the keyboard for a second longer than normal. Then you typed.
You : okay wait, why do you actually look so tempting tonight
sooya đ€: tempting enough to make you stare this long?
You : maybe i zoomed in a little
sooya đ€: idiot đ
You : no because seriously, the lipstick??? and your eyes look soft her
sooya đ€: you notice my eyes first?
You : i notice everything first when itâs you
sooya đ€: âŠyouâre being weirdly sweet tonight
You : maybe you make me soft
sooya đ€: dangerous statement
You : maybe i like dangerous things
sooya đ€: oh really?
You : mhm, also jin is actually insane because if my girlfriend looked like THIS i would never stop looking at her
sooya đ€: your boyfriend is literally sleeping on your chest right now
You : and somehow youâre still the one making my heart act strange
sooya đ€: âŠ
You : too much?
sooya đ€: a little
You : sorry :(
sooya đ€: no donât apologize, i think my heart did something weird too when you said that
You : sooyaaaa
sooya đ€: stop typing my name like that
You : why
sooya đ€: because i can hear your voice when you do it
You : maybe i want you to
sooya đ€: youâre very dangerous before sleeping
You : and youâre very pretty before sleeping
sooya đ€: go to bed, doll
You : say goodnight properly first
sooya đ€: goodnight pretty girl
You : ⊠yeah okay now my heart feels weird again
You looked at the photo again unconsciously. The red lipstick. The exposed collarbone. The calm look in her eyes. Something strange fluttered low in your stomach before you pushed it away immediately. Beside you, Jungkook shifted in his sleep, hugging you tighter and suddenly guilt brushed against your chest for a feeling you didnât even understand yet.
Morning sunlight spilled softly across the apartment as you blinked awake slowly. Then the smell of pancakes hit your nose. Your eyes widened immediately. You rushed out of the bedroom with messy hair and oversized pajamas only to freeze dramatically at the sight in the kitchen. Jungkook stood by the stove flipping pancakes while humming proudly to himself.
You stared at him suspiciously âWhat did you break?â
Jungkook turned around, offended. âWhy canât I be a loving boyfriend naturally?â
You snorted sleepily, shuffling toward him. The second you got close, he wrapped an arm around your waist automatically and kissed your cheek.
âMy princess slept well?â
âMhm.â
âYou drooled on me.â
Your jaw dropped.
âYouâre lying.â
âI have evidence.â
âYouâre evil.â
âIâm beautiful.â
âThat too.â
Jungkook grinned proudly before suddenly scooping you into his arms bridal-style without warning. You squealed instantly.
âJUNGKOOKââ
âMorning transportation service,â he announced seriously. You laughed helplessly while he carried you toward the bathroom like this was the most normal thing alive. Inside, he placed you gently on the counter before grabbing your toothbrush.
âYou spoil me too much ,â you mumbled.
âAnd whose fault is that?â
He applied toothpaste carefully before handing it to you like a personal assistant. Then he leaned forward suddenlyâSoft kiss to your cheek. Another near your jaw.
âIâll be outside, okay?â he murmured softly.
Your chest warmed immediately. God. He loved you so openly it almost hurt sometimes.
â
Meanwhile, across the city, Jisoo woke up determined to stay annoyed. Which was difficult when Jin walked into the bedroom with bed hair and dramatic suffering in his eyes.
âA hot lady made me sleep on the couch,â he sighed sadly.
Jisoo pressed her lips together hard, trying not to smile. Failed instantly.
âThereâs the criminal,â Jin pointed accusingly. âI saw that smile.â
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
âYou miss me terribly.â
âYou survived one night.â
âBarely.â
He walked closer before suddenly leaning down and pressing a quick kiss against her lips.
âSorry, my love.â
Jisooâs annoyance melted embarrassingly fast. Which made Jin look entirely too pleased with himself.
âYouâre easy,â he teased.
âShut up.â
âYou love me.â
âUnfortunately.â
âEconomically speaking,â Jin said proudly, climbing back into bed beside her, âwe are a high-value partnership.â
Jisoo groaned into her pillow âWhy are you like this.â
Saturday afternoons with the four of you always ended in chaos. Todayâs chaos happened inside a crowded mall.
You and Jisoo were happily throwing clothes into each otherâs arms while Jungkook and Jin followed behind carrying enough shopping bags to start a small business.
âIâm being exploited,â Jungkook complained dramatically.
âYou volunteered,â you reminded him.
âThat was before I realized women shop recreationally.â
Jisoo nodded seriously. âCorrect.â
Jin adjusted the bags in his arms with deep disappointment.
âThis is financially irresponsible behavior.â
âYou bought a face roller shaped like a penguin last week,â Jisoo shot back immediately.
âThat was self-investment.â
You burst into laughter just as your eyes landed on a lingerie store ahead. Your grin widened instantly.
âOh my god.â
Jisoo already knew that expression.
âNo.â
âYes.â
âNo.â
Too late. You were already dragging her inside. Unfortunately, Jungkook and Jin followed automatically out of habit. Ten minutes later, both men stood awkwardly near the entrance while you and Jisoo looked through shelves, holding up different colors and laughing at terrible designs.
âWhat about this one?â Jisoo asked, holding up a soft pastel set toward you.
You narrowed your eyes thoughtfully âThatâs cute actually.â
Nearby, Jin looked deeply analytical while Jungkook looked like he wanted to disappear into another dimension. Jisoo held up another set toward Jin. âThoughts?â
Jin crossed his arms thoughtfully like he was reviewing a business proposal.
âWear it first. Then I can properly evaluate.â
Jisoo stared at him in disbelief âWhy are you like this.â
Meanwhile, Jungkook nearly choked laughing. Then suddenly a horrified staff member hurried over politely.
âSir, sorryâmen arenât allowed further inside this section.â
Jin gasped dramatically. âThis is discrimination.â
âHyung, come on,â Jungkook laughed, immediately grabbing his arm before he could start debating human rights in a lingerie store.
âI was contributing valuable insight!â
âYou were absolutely not.â
The two disappeared outside still arguing. Finally alone, you and Jisoo relaxed again, moving between racks more comfortably now. Jisoo picked up a delicate white bra, turning toward you naturally.
âThis would look pretty on you.â
You blinked once. Something about the way she said it felt oddly soft. You quickly grabbed another one to distract yourself.
âThen you should buy this one,â you said, holding up a darker set toward her. âIt suits you.â
Jisoo looked down at it before laughing quietly. âYou know my taste too well.â
âObviously.â
Your fingers brushed briefly while exchanging the hangers. A tiny thing. Meaningless. Yet for some reason, both of you went strangely quiet for a second afterward.
Outside the fitting rooms, Jeon Jungkook sent you another message.
buy the red one, net one . trust me.
You snorted quietly before grabbing the red lace set from the rack. Jisoo noticed immediately.
âOh?â Jisoo raised an eyebrow. âSomeoneâs boyfriend has opinions.â
âHe thinks heâs a fashion expert.â
âHeâs unfortunately right though. That color suits you.â
Your ears warmed slightly for no reason. Then Jisoo suddenly lifted two sets in her hands casually.
âLetâs try them.â
âTogether?â
âWe literally changed in front of each other our whole childhood.â
ââŠTrue.â
It felt normal. At least it was supposed to. A few minutes later, you waited outside while Jisoo stepped into one of the fitting rooms first. You were scrolling through your phone when her voice suddenly came from inside.
âDoll?â
âHm?â
âThe hook got stuck.â
You sighed dramatically. âYouâre helpless.â
âCorrect. Come save me.â
Rolling your eyes, you slipped inside quickly. The tiny room instantly felt smaller. Jisoo stood with her back toward you, holding her hair up with one hand while trying unsuccessfully to fix the clasp. For a second, your brain stalled.
You stepped closer anyway âHold still,â you mumbled softly. Your fingers brushed the strap carefully while trying to unhook it.
Jisooâs skin felt warm beneath your fingertips. The silence shifted strangely. Then Jisoo laughed quietly under her breath.
âYouâre concentrating like youâre diffusing a bomb.â
âIt IS dangerous.â
âDrama queen.â
You smiled automatically, one hand briefly resting against her waist to steady yourself in the cramped space. The moment slowed unexpectedly. Jisoo turned slightly to look at you over her shoulder, closer now than either of you realized. And suddenly both of you became very aware of how little space existed between you.
You lean and kiss her neck softly suddenly your lip touched her skin , your soft lips reading her skin , jisso lean in but before either of you could processâ
A sharp knock sounded outside.
âMaâam,â the staff called politely, âonly one person allowed inside at a time.â
Both of you jumped apart instantly.
âOhâsorry!â you answered quickly, stepping back toward the curtain with burning cheeks. Jisoo avoided your eyes completely while fixing her hair awkwardly and for some reason neither of you spoke for several seconds after that.
When you and Jisoo finally stepped out of the fitting room area, both of you looked suspiciously calm. Jungkook narrowed his eyes immediately.
âWhy do you both look like students who cheated successfully?â
âWe survived capitalism,â you answered instantly.
âThat explains nothing.â
Beside him, Jin took one look at Jisooâs face and frowned slightly.
âYouâre red.â
âThe fitting room was hot.â
âHm.â
For some reason, Jisoo refused to look directly at you after that. Which only made you more aware of her presence beside you. Annoyingly aware. At the counter, Jungkook casually pulled out his card before you could even reach for your wallet.
âYou donât have to buy everything,â you complained weakly.
âYes I do.â
âNo you donât.â
âYes I do,â he repeated confidently. âIâm literally just a man trying to provide for his princess.â
You snorted while the cashier tried not to smile. Meanwhile Jin looked personally offended at the bill total.
âThis store is manipulating consumers emotionally.â
âYou bought skincare worth more than this yesterday,â Jisoo reminded him.
âThat was essential.â
âYour star headbands arenât essential.â
âThey improve morale.â
A few minutes later, the four of you walked out carrying bags while the mall buzzed loudly around you. Jungkook stretched dramatically before suddenly turning around.
âOkay, Iâm hungry. Letâs eat something.â
âAgain?â Jin asked. âYou consumed two pretzels already.â
âThat was appetizer behavior.â
Then Jungkook pointed proudly at all of you âMy treat.â
Jisoo shook her head instantly. âNo, itâs okay.â
Before he could argue again, you immediately grabbed Jisooâs wrist lightly.
âPlease come,â you said softly. âI want dessert.â
Jisoo looked down at your hand around her wrist for a second too long. Then her expression softened automatically.
ââŠFine.â
Jungkook gasped dramatically. âSo she listens to YOU but not me?â
âCorrect,â Jin answered immediately.
âThatâs actually crazy.â
You laughed while unconsciously staying close to Jisoo as the four of you headed toward the food court together. And neither of you mentioned the fitting room once.
Movie nights at Jisoo and Jinâs apartment were always chaotic half the snacks disappeared before the movie even started.
Jungkook was buried into one corner of the bed dramatically complaining that nobody appreciated his movie choices, while Jin kept pausing every ten minutes to âanalyze plot holes.â
âYou analyze everything,â Jisoo sighed.
âThatâs because Iâm intellectually gifted.â
âYou cried during a penguin documentary.â
âThey were emotionally compelling.â
You laughed loudly, falling sideways against Jisoo automatically none of you questioned it anymore. The four of you sat tangled beneath blankets across the large bed while the movie played in dim lighting.
Jungkook rested comfortably against the headboard beside you, occasionally feeding you snacks without even looking away from the screen. Meanwhile Jisoo sat so close your shoulders touched completely at some point during the movie, a romantic scene appeared onscreen. The room grew quieter naturally.
Jisoo shifted slightly beside you beneath the blanket, absentmindedly resting her hand lightly against your thigh while still watching the movie. The kind of touch best friends probably didnât even notice. Except you noticed immediately. Your breathing changed slightly before you could stop it and when her thumb moved once unconsciously against the fabricâ
Your stomach tightened strangely. You shifted closer without thinking, your hand resting briefly against her hips beneath the blanket as if it belonged there naturally. Neither of you looked at each other neither of you moved away. The movie scene grew more intense in the background while silence settled oddly between you.
Then suddenly, almost at the same momentâJungkook leaned toward you affectionately from one side while Jin pulled Jisoo closer against him from the other. Reality crashed back instantly. You and Jisoo both pulled your hands away from each other beneath the blanket at the exact same second.
Jungkook noticed your startled expression immediately.
âYou okay, princess?â
Your heartbeat thudded painfully hard âYeah,â you answered too quickly. Beside you, Jisoo stayed focused on the TV a little too carefully while Jin rested comfortably against her shoulder, completely unaware.
The entire economics department looked half-dead on exam morning. Students filled the classroom with anxious whispering, last-minute revision panic, and dramatic promises to âstart studying properly next semester.â None of which were true.
You sat at your assigned bench beside. Jungkook, nervously tapping your pen against the desk while trying not to throw up from stress.
âIâm actually going to fail,â you whispered dramatically.
âYou say that before every exam.â Jungkook snorted while spreading his pens across the desk like a businessman preparing contracts. A row behind you, Jisoo and Jin were already arguing quietly.
âYou brought color-coded sticky notes into the exam hall?â Jisoo whispered.
Jin looked offended. âPreparation is attractive.â
Before Jisoo could answer, you suddenly turned around in your seat with genuine panic in your eyes.
âSooya,â you whispered dramatically, âIâm scared.â The second Jisoo saw your face soften anxiously, her expression changed immediately too without even thinking about it, she leaned forward slightly and placed her hand gently on top of your head.
âI trust you,â she said softly.
The words hit you strangely hard. Like she believed in you more than you believed in yourself. Your shoulders relaxed automatically beneath her touch and beside you, Jungkook noticed immediately. His eyes flicked from Jisooâs hand on your head to your softened expression. Something small and sharp twisted briefly in his chest. Before the feeling could settle, he suddenly grabbed your wrist dramatically and pulled you back toward him.
âIf you panic during the exam,â he whispered confidently, âcopy from my paper, okay?â
You burst out laughing instantly âWow Academic dishonesty.â
âThatâs love.â
âThatâs suspension.â
âSame thing.â
Suddenly the bell ring the classroom slowly fell silent as the invigilator walked between rows placing question papers upside down on each desk. Someone in the back whispered a prayer. Another student looked seconds away from fainting.
You grabbed Jungkookâs sleeve dramatically.
âIf I die today,â you whispered, âdelete my browsing history.â
Jungkook looked offended. âYou donât trust me with your secrets?â
âI barely trust myself with my secrets.â
Thenâ
âYou may begin.â
Papers flipped across the room all at once. Your eyes dropped to the first question. You stared blankly for three full seconds.
âOh my god,â you mouthed silently.
Beside you, Jungkook already started writing immediately like a traitor. You turned around slowly toward Jisoo in betrayal. Jisoo read the first page calmly before looking up at your horrified face. Her lips twitched instantly. You mouthed dramatically: iâm finished.
She mouthed back: breathe.
Meanwhile Jin adjusted his glasses like he had personally written the exam paper himself.
âThis is light work,â he whispered arrogantly.
Jisoo kicked his shoe under the desk instantly.
âOw.â
âBe humble.â
âIâm academically gifted.â
âYou failed macroeconomics.â
âThat was political.â
The invigilator narrowed their eyes suspiciously from the front. Everyone went silent again. A few minutes passed. Pens scratched against paper. Pages turned and slowly, your panic settled enough to actually start writing. Halfway through the exam, your brain froze on one question again.
Slowly, carefully, you nudged Jeon Jungkook with your elbow. âKoo,â you whispered desperately, âshow me.â
Without even lifting his head, Jungkook whispered back, âYou called me Koo during academic crisis. Thatâs serious.â
âJungkook please.â
âI risk prison for you every day.â
âYou literally told me to copy earlier!â
âThat was before I saw the invigilator walking like Batman.â
You tried peeking toward his paper anyway. Immediately Jungkook shifted his answer sheet dramatically away from you.
âKOO.â
âUse your own intelligence.â
âI donât have any left.â
From the row behind, Jin looked up slowly with judgment in his eyes âI will inform the invigilator,â he announced quietly.
Your jaw dropped âYou traitor.â
âAcademic integrity matters.â
âYou were born seventy years old.â
Jin ignored you proudly. Meanwhile Jisoo was trying not to laugh so hard her shoulders shook. Jisoo leaned forward slightly afterward, voice softer this time.
âDoll,â she whispered carefully, âread the question properly again first.â
You frowned down at the paper dramatically. Then paused.
âŠOh âOh wait.â
Jungkook looked over instantly. âDid your brain finally reboot?â
âThe graph is literally already given.â
The invigilator suddenly cleared their throat loudly from the front. All four of you straightened instantly like innocent students. Jungkook quietly slid another tiny note toward you beneath the desk.
> if you fail we fail together âĄ
You bit your lip hard to stop yourself from smiling too much in the middle of the exam hall.
After the exhausting exam week, you and Jisoo ended up alone in her apartment while Jin and Jungkook went out to grab snacks. You dropped dramatically onto Jisooâs bed with a groan.
âMy whole body hurts.â
Jisoo looked up from her phone immediately. âExam stress or Jungkook stress?â
You threw a pillow at her. She laughed softly before moving closer beside you.
âCome here,â she said. âIâll help.â
A second later, her hands rested gently against your shoulders. Your entire body relaxed embarrassingly fast beneath her touch.
âOh my god,â you mumbled. âMarry me.â
Jisoo snorted softly. âYou say that every week.â
âBecause youâre talented.â Her fingers moved slowly against your tense muscles while soft music played quietly in the background.
âYou really were stressed,â Jisoo murmured quietly after a while.
âMhm.â
" I can help"
You looked away first âDonât flirt with me randomly.â
âI wasnât flirting.â Jisoo tilted her head slightly, studying your face âAnd what if it was?â
The room suddenly felt quieter. You tried laughing it off, but the sound came out softer than expected.
âThen youâre bad at friendship boundaries.â
Jisoo smiled faintly âYou never complained before.â
Before you could answer, she reached up naturally and brushed a strand of hair away from your face. A tiny gesture. Something sheâd done your whole life. Yet this time neither of you moved afterward. Your eyes stayed locked for a second too long. Your heartbeat started climbing quietly. Jisoo noticed it too.nYou could tell by the way her expression slowly changedâconfused, careful, almost nervous.
âDoll,â she whispered softly.
The nickname sounded different suddenly. Your hand moved before your brain caught up, fingers holding her waist and when Jisoo leaned closer this time, neither of you stopped it.
The kiss was soft. Like both of you were waiting for the other to pull away. But neither of you did.
Jisooâs hand slowly rested against your cheek The second kiss lasted longer. Your stomach twisted nervously when her forehead rested briefly against yours afterward. Both of you breathing too quietly.
The doorbell rang so suddenly that both of you jumped apart instantly. Your heartbeat nearly stopped. Jisoo pulled back first, eyes wide with the same panic reflected in yours. For one frozen second, neither of you moved.
The bell rang again. Reality crashed back violently. You stood up too quickly from the bed, almost stumbling while fixing your hair with shaky hands. Jisoo immediately looked away, pretending to focus on folding the blanket despite her flushed cheeks.
The bell rang a third time âIâll get it,â you blurted quickly.
You walked toward the door trying to breathe normally, trying to look normal, trying not to think about what had just happened five seconds ago. The moment you opened the door, Jungkook grinned brightly.
âThereâs myââ He stopped mid-sentence when he saw your face properly.
Immediately his expression softened with concern âBaby? You okay?â
Behind him, Jin held grocery bags while complaining about instant noodles being overpriced. You didnât answer Jungkook immediately.
Instead, before even understanding why, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him tightly. Jungkook blinked in surprise before hugging you back instantly.
âWhoa,â he laughed softly. âMissed me that much?â
You buried your face against his chest and suddenly guilt hit you so hard your chest physically hurt.
âCan we go home?â you asked quietly.
Jungkook pulled back slightly to look at you properly. His brows furrowed immediately.
âPrincess, what happened?â
âNothing,â you answered too fast.
Jungkook didnât push further after hearing your voice. His hand immediately settled gently at your lower back as he guided you toward the elevator.
âText us when you reach,â Jin called casually from behind. Jungkook only nodded before looking back at you again.
âCome here, baby.â
The second the elevator doors closed, he pulled you against him carefully. Not demanding answers. Just holding you.
âYouâre scaring me a little,â he admitted quietly. âDid someone say something to you?â
âNo.â
âThen what happened?â
You shook your head weakly and buried your face into his hoodie again and because Jungkook loved you the way he did completely, openly, instinctively he stopped asking immediately.
âOkay,â he murmured softly, kissing the top of your head. âWeâll just go home.â
â
Back upstairs, silence filled the apartment the second the door shut. Jisoo stood frozen near the hallway, still unable to process what had happened.
Meanwhile Jin calmly placed the grocery bags onto the kitchen counter like nothing unusual had happened. Then casually, without even looking at her properly, he spoke.
âFix your lipstick,â he said. âItâs smudged.â
Jisooâs entire body went cold. Her eyes snapped toward him instantly. For one horrifying second, she genuinely couldnât breathe.
Did he know? Did he understand?
âNo, it justââ she started quickly, voice unsteady. âDoll hugged me suddenly andââ
âI didnât ask for explanation.â His tone wasnât loud. That somehow made it worse.
Jisoo watched him carefully now as Jin finally turned toward her fully. Gone was the joking expression he usually wore around her. He looked serious.
âYouâre my girlfriend,â he said quietly. âSo I trust you enough not to ask stupid questions.â
Jisooâs throat tightened.
âBut if Jungkook gets hurt because of anything,â Jin continued calmly, âyouâll see a side of me you wonât like.â
Underneath all his jokes and dramatic behaviorâeveryone knew Jin loved Jungkook like family. Jisoo looked down immediately, guilt twisting painfully in her stomach. Jin sighed softly after a moment, some tension leaving his shoulders.
âJust⊠figure out what youâre feeling before someone innocent gets broken by it.â
Summary:- For years, you called her your best friend. The safest word for what you were. You had Jungkook , she had Jin. Everything was supposed to be simple. Until a few stolen glances became lingering touches; lingering touches became a kiss ; and a kiss became something neither of you could forget.
Pairing:- You Ă Jungkook, Jin Ă Jisoo , JisooĂYou
Genre:-Romance | LGBTQ+ | Slow Burn| Cheating | Friends to Lover | Drama | smut | Lesbian sex ( haha I'm nervous)
Author's note: I wrote this very randomly, I mean VERY RANDOMLY. I chose the topic, yes, but after that my mind simply stopped working. Itâs just a beginning for now; Iâm not even sure how it feels yet.
Masterlist
Part01 :- Yearning
.....................................
The first thing people noticed about you and Jisoo was that neither of you knew how to exist separately. Like how your hand automatically searched for hers while crossing roads. How she opened your water bottle before you even asked. How you could identify her footsteps in a crowded hallway without turning around once. People stopped questioning it years ago.
âChildhood best friends,â theyâd say with a shrug, as if that explained everything. Maybe it did. Maybe it didnât.
âY/n!â
Your head snapped up from the cafeteria table just in time to see Jungkook walking in with two iced coffees and the same stupid grin that made half the college think he was trouble. He looked like trouble too. Black hoodie. Rings on his fingers. Tattoos peeking from his sleeve. The kind of face mothers warned daughters about. Too bad he was the biggest loser alive when it came to you.
âBaby,â he complained dramatically, putting the coffee down in front of you, âI almost died waiting in line for this.â
âYou say that every day.â
âBecause every day I suffer.â
You laughed as he leaned down instantly, resting his chin on your shoulder like a clingy puppy who had finally found its owner again.
Across from you, Jisoo calmly sipped your untouched juice without asking permission. Next to her, Jin looked personally offended by the cafeteria lighting.
âThis college lacks proper economic structure,â he announced. âThe sandwich prices are inconsistent with product quality.â
Jisoo deadpanned, âGood morning to you too.â
âIâm simply educating the masses.â
âYou failed macroeconomics last semester.â
âThat was a political decision.â
You burst out laughing while Jisoo quietly lowered her head into her hands, already exhausted. This was normal.
You, second-year economics students. You and Jungkook dating since high school. Jisoo and Jin somehow surviving whatever strange relationship they had since high school too. Everything was normal. Comfortable. Predictable. So predictable that nobody noticed the small things anymore.
Like how Jisoo absentmindedly fixed your necklace while talking to Jin. Or how you stole fries from her tray instead of your boyfriendâs. Or how both of you always sat pressed shoulder-to-shoulder even when the bench had enough space. Small things. Meaningless things. Probably.
âYou know,â Jungkook suddenly said, narrowing his eyes at you and Jisoo, âsometimes I feel like Iâm third-wheeling my own girlfriend.â
âYou are,â Jin replied immediately.
âHyung!â
Jisoo smiled softly, shaking her head and for a second, looking at her like thisâsunlight touching her face, eyes crinkling slightly when she smiledâyou felt something strange tighten quietly in your chest. Something you ignored immediately. Because this was Jisoo. Your Jisoo.
The girl who married her doll to your doll when you were seven because, according to her tiny self, âthey looked happier together.â You still remembered it clearly.
The tiny plastic rings. The blanket veil. The way both of you genuinely cried when your cousin tried separating the dolls afterward. You didnât know why the memory suddenly came back now. Maybe because Jisoo looked at you the same way she did back then.
âWhy are you staring at me?â she asked quietly.
You blinked quickly, looking away first.
ââŠNothing.â
The apartment door barely closed before you threw your bag dramatically onto the couch with a loud groan.
âIâm dropping out,â you announced to the ceiling. The door clicked shut behind you. A second later, familiar arms wrapped around your waist from behind.
Jungkook buried his face into your neck instantly, pressing lazy kisses against your skin while humming.
âMy princess looks exhausted,â he murmured. âIâll make something delicious.â
You melted back against him automatically. âBaby,â you whined, dragging the word painfully, âour midterms are next week. I donât wanna study.â
âThatâs crazy.â
âIâm serious.â
âThatâs even crazier.â
You turned around in his arms with a dramatic glare. âYou donât understand my pain.â
Jungkook gasped like you had insulted his ancestors âI stayed awake till three helping you make color-coded economics notes!â
âAnd they were ugly.â
âThey were beautiful!â
âThey looked like a childrenâs birthday invitation.â
He stared at you in betrayal before grabbing your face dramatically âYou wound me every day.â
You burst into laughter while he squished your cheeks together, completely offended. God, he was pretty. Annoyingly pretty. The type of pretty that made no sense when paired with how ridiculous he acted around you. Most people in college found him intimidating. Meanwhile this man once cried because you called a stray cat âcuter than him.â
âYou know what?â he declared suddenly. âNo dinner for you.â
You narrowed your eyes. âYou wouldnât survive two hours without feeding me.â
ââŠThatâs actually true.â
âExactly.â
He sighed deeply before kissing your lips .
âYouâre evil.â
âAnd youâre obsessed with me.â
âObviously.â
The answer came so fast that you snorted. Jungkook grinned proudly, following you toward the kitchen like a shadow.
âYou should feel honored,â he continued. âMen would fight wars for a woman like you.â
âName one man.â
âMe.â
âYouâd cry after ten minutes.â
âIâd cry beautifully.â
You laughed again, louder this time, the sound filling the apartment so naturally it almost felt stitched into the walls by now. While Jungkook searched the fridge dramatically like a struggling single father, your phone buzzed against the counter.
A message from Jisoo.
survived jinâs three-hour lecture on supply and demand. barely.
You smiled instantly. Without thinking. Jungkook noticed immediately.
âJisoo?â
âMhm.â
âWhat did she say?â
âSheâs being bullied by her own boyfriend again.â
âTragic.â
âShe needs help.â
âShe needs a new boyfriend.â
You giggled while typing back quickly.
Across the city, Jisoo stared at herself in the mirror for the fifth time that night. The soft black nightdress hugged her figure perfectly. Her hair fell neatly over her shoulders, and the red lipstick alone had taken twenty minutes because she kept getting nervous halfway through applying it. Why was she nervous? It was just Jin. Her boyfriend. Of three years. Still, her heart beat annoyingly fast when she heard the room door unlock. Jisoo quickly sat on the couch, pretending she wasnât literally waiting for him.
The door opened and in walked JinâŠwearing a fluffy star headband. A green face mask covered half his face while he calmly sipped beetroot juice through a straw like a retired wellness influencer. Jisoo blinked slowly.
âWhat,â she asked carefully, âis this.â
âNight skincare.â
âYou look insane.â
âBeauty requires discipline.â
âYouâre drinking beetroot juice.â
âIt improves blood circulation.â
He finally looked up at her properlyâThen paused. Jisoo straightened slightly. Okay. Finally. A reaction. Jin stared at her silently for a few seconds before speaking in the calmest voice possible.
âThe color red lipstick combined with exposed collarbones creates high consumer attention,â he continued thoughtfully. âVery effective visual advertising.â
She stared at him in disbelief âIâm trying to seduce you.â
âI know.â
âAnd THAT is your response?â
âIâm complimenting your strategy.â
âKim Seokjin, I swear to Godââ
He finally laughed softly, walking closer while still holding his ridiculous beetroot juice.âYouâre cute when angry.â
âI donât want to be cute right now.â
âHm. Understandable.â
Jisoo crossed her arms, genuinely annoyed now. Meanwhile Jin casually sat beside her like she wasnât having a crisis. Then, after a moment, he leaned closer quietly. Close enough for his voice to soften.
âBut if we remove the economic analysis,â he murmured, eyes flicking over her face properly this time, âyou look really hot tonight.â
Jisoo instantly looked away first ââŠTook you long enough.â
âI like observing before investing.â
Jisoo rolled her eyes dramatically before suddenly grabbing Jin by the neck of his hoodie and pulling him closer.
âStop talking like a textbook for one second,â she complained.
Caught off guard, Jinâs hand tiltedâand cold beetroot juice spilled directly down the front of her black dress. Both of them looked down slowly. Jisooâs jaw dropped. Jin blinked once.
âWait, wait.â He immediately put the glass aside, trying not to laugh. âLet me remove the dress before the stain settles.â
Jisoo smacked his arm instantly âYOU SOUND INSANE.â
Jin finally burst into laughter while Jisoo grabbed the edge of her ruined dress dramatically and stormed toward the bathroom.
âYouâre sleeping on the couch!â
âThatâs economically unfair!â
The bathroom door slammed shut. Ten minutes later, after changing into oversized pajamas and successfully surviving her embarrassing seduction attempt, Jisoo sat cross-legged on her bed scrolling through the pictures she had taken earlier.
The lighting had actually looked pretty. The lipstick too also the deep neck . With a sigh, she opened your chat and sent the photos anyway.
Meanwhile, in your apartment, the lights were already dim. Jungkook was half-asleep on your chest, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist like he physically couldnât sleep unless touching you somehow. His hair tickled your neck every time he breathed.
Your phone buzzed softly in the dark. You glanced down. Jisoo. Your lips curved instantly. The pictures loaded slowly one by one.
Black dress. Red lipstick. Soft eyes staring into the mirror, the faint line of her cleavage. Your fingers paused over the keyboard for a second longer than normal. Then you typed.
You : okay wait, why do you actually look so tempting tonight
sooya đ€: tempting enough to make you stare this long?
You : maybe i zoomed in a little
sooya đ€: idiot đ
You : no because seriously, the lipstick??? and your eyes look soft her
sooya đ€: you notice my eyes first?
You : i notice everything first when itâs you
sooya đ€: âŠyouâre being weirdly sweet tonight
You : maybe you make me soft
sooya đ€: dangerous statement
You : maybe i like dangerous things
sooya đ€: oh really?
You : mhm, also jin is actually insane because if my girlfriend looked like THIS i would never stop looking at her
sooya đ€: your boyfriend is literally sleeping on your chest right now
You : and somehow youâre still the one making my heart act strange
sooya đ€: âŠ
You : too much?
sooya đ€: a little
You : sorry :(
sooya đ€: no donât apologize, i think my heart did something weird too when you said that
You : sooyaaaa
sooya đ€: stop typing my name like that
You : why
sooya đ€: because i can hear your voice when you do it
You : maybe i want you to
sooya đ€: youâre very dangerous before sleeping
You : and youâre very pretty before sleeping
sooya đ€: go to bed, doll
You : say goodnight properly first
sooya đ€: goodnight pretty girl
You : ⊠yeah okay now my heart feels weird again
You looked at the photo again unconsciously. The red lipstick. The exposed collarbone. The calm look in her eyes. Something strange fluttered low in your stomach before you pushed it away immediately. Beside you, Jungkook shifted in his sleep, hugging you tighter and suddenly guilt brushed against your chest for a feeling you didnât even understand yet.
Morning sunlight spilled softly across the apartment as you blinked awake slowly. Then the smell of pancakes hit your nose. Your eyes widened immediately. You rushed out of the bedroom with messy hair and oversized pajamas only to freeze dramatically at the sight in the kitchen. Jungkook stood by the stove flipping pancakes while humming proudly to himself.
You stared at him suspiciously âWhat did you break?â
Jungkook turned around, offended. âWhy canât I be a loving boyfriend naturally?â
You snorted sleepily, shuffling toward him. The second you got close, he wrapped an arm around your waist automatically and kissed your cheek.
âMy princess slept well?â
âMhm.â
âYou drooled on me.â
Your jaw dropped.
âYouâre lying.â
âI have evidence.â
âYouâre evil.â
âIâm beautiful.â
âThat too.â
Jungkook grinned proudly before suddenly scooping you into his arms bridal-style without warning. You squealed instantly.
âJUNGKOOKââ
âMorning transportation service,â he announced seriously. You laughed helplessly while he carried you toward the bathroom like this was the most normal thing alive. Inside, he placed you gently on the counter before grabbing your toothbrush.
âYou spoil me too much ,â you mumbled.
âAnd whose fault is that?â
He applied toothpaste carefully before handing it to you like a personal assistant. Then he leaned forward suddenlyâSoft kiss to your cheek. Another near your jaw.
âIâll be outside, okay?â he murmured softly.
Your chest warmed immediately. God. He loved you so openly it almost hurt sometimes.
â
Meanwhile, across the city, Jisoo woke up determined to stay annoyed. Which was difficult when Jin walked into the bedroom with bed hair and dramatic suffering in his eyes.
âA hot lady made me sleep on the couch,â he sighed sadly.
Jisoo pressed her lips together hard, trying not to smile. Failed instantly.
âThereâs the criminal,â Jin pointed accusingly. âI saw that smile.â
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
âYou miss me terribly.â
âYou survived one night.â
âBarely.â
He walked closer before suddenly leaning down and pressing a quick kiss against her lips.
âSorry, my love.â
Jisooâs annoyance melted embarrassingly fast. Which made Jin look entirely too pleased with himself.
âYouâre easy,â he teased.
âShut up.â
âYou love me.â
âUnfortunately.â
âEconomically speaking,â Jin said proudly, climbing back into bed beside her, âwe are a high-value partnership.â
Jisoo groaned into her pillow âWhy are you like this.â
Saturday afternoons with the four of you always ended in chaos. Todayâs chaos happened inside a crowded mall.
You and Jisoo were happily throwing clothes into each otherâs arms while Jungkook and Jin followed behind carrying enough shopping bags to start a small business.
âIâm being exploited,â Jungkook complained dramatically.
âYou volunteered,â you reminded him.
âThat was before I realized women shop recreationally.â
Jisoo nodded seriously. âCorrect.â
Jin adjusted the bags in his arms with deep disappointment.
âThis is financially irresponsible behavior.â
âYou bought a face roller shaped like a penguin last week,â Jisoo shot back immediately.
âThat was self-investment.â
You burst into laughter just as your eyes landed on a lingerie store ahead. Your grin widened instantly.
âOh my god.â
Jisoo already knew that expression.
âNo.â
âYes.â
âNo.â
Too late. You were already dragging her inside. Unfortunately, Jungkook and Jin followed automatically out of habit. Ten minutes later, both men stood awkwardly near the entrance while you and Jisoo looked through shelves, holding up different colors and laughing at terrible designs.
âWhat about this one?â Jisoo asked, holding up a soft pastel set toward you.
You narrowed your eyes thoughtfully âThatâs cute actually.â
Nearby, Jin looked deeply analytical while Jungkook looked like he wanted to disappear into another dimension. Jisoo held up another set toward Jin. âThoughts?â
Jin crossed his arms thoughtfully like he was reviewing a business proposal.
âWear it first. Then I can properly evaluate.â
Jisoo stared at him in disbelief âWhy are you like this.â
Meanwhile, Jungkook nearly choked laughing. Then suddenly a horrified staff member hurried over politely.
âSir, sorryâmen arenât allowed further inside this section.â
Jin gasped dramatically. âThis is discrimination.â
âHyung, come on,â Jungkook laughed, immediately grabbing his arm before he could start debating human rights in a lingerie store.
âI was contributing valuable insight!â
âYou were absolutely not.â
The two disappeared outside still arguing. Finally alone, you and Jisoo relaxed again, moving between racks more comfortably now. Jisoo picked up a delicate white bra, turning toward you naturally.
âThis would look pretty on you.â
You blinked once. Something about the way she said it felt oddly soft. You quickly grabbed another one to distract yourself.
âThen you should buy this one,â you said, holding up a darker set toward her. âIt suits you.â
Jisoo looked down at it before laughing quietly. âYou know my taste too well.â
âObviously.â
Your fingers brushed briefly while exchanging the hangers. A tiny thing. Meaningless. Yet for some reason, both of you went strangely quiet for a second afterward.
Outside the fitting rooms, Jeon Jungkook sent you another message.
buy the red one, net one . trust me.
You snorted quietly before grabbing the red lace set from the rack. Jisoo noticed immediately.
âOh?â Jisoo raised an eyebrow. âSomeoneâs boyfriend has opinions.â
âHe thinks heâs a fashion expert.â
âHeâs unfortunately right though. That color suits you.â
Your ears warmed slightly for no reason. Then Jisoo suddenly lifted two sets in her hands casually.
âLetâs try them.â
âTogether?â
âWe literally changed in front of each other our whole childhood.â
ââŠTrue.â
It felt normal. At least it was supposed to. A few minutes later, you waited outside while Jisoo stepped into one of the fitting rooms first. You were scrolling through your phone when her voice suddenly came from inside.
âDoll?â
âHm?â
âThe hook got stuck.â
You sighed dramatically. âYouâre helpless.â
âCorrect. Come save me.â
Rolling your eyes, you slipped inside quickly. The tiny room instantly felt smaller. Jisoo stood with her back toward you, holding her hair up with one hand while trying unsuccessfully to fix the clasp. For a second, your brain stalled.
You stepped closer anyway âHold still,â you mumbled softly. Your fingers brushed the strap carefully while trying to unhook it.
Jisooâs skin felt warm beneath your fingertips. The silence shifted strangely. Then Jisoo laughed quietly under her breath.
âYouâre concentrating like youâre diffusing a bomb.â
âIt IS dangerous.â
âDrama queen.â
You smiled automatically, one hand briefly resting against her waist to steady yourself in the cramped space. The moment slowed unexpectedly. Jisoo turned slightly to look at you over her shoulder, closer now than either of you realized. And suddenly both of you became very aware of how little space existed between you.
You lean and kiss her neck softly suddenly your lip touched her skin , your soft lips reading her skin , jisso lean in but before either of you could processâ
A sharp knock sounded outside.
âMaâam,â the staff called politely, âonly one person allowed inside at a time.â
Both of you jumped apart instantly.
âOhâsorry!â you answered quickly, stepping back toward the curtain with burning cheeks. Jisoo avoided your eyes completely while fixing her hair awkwardly and for some reason neither of you spoke for several seconds after that.
When you and Jisoo finally stepped out of the fitting room area, both of you looked suspiciously calm. Jungkook narrowed his eyes immediately.
âWhy do you both look like students who cheated successfully?â
âWe survived capitalism,â you answered instantly.
âThat explains nothing.â
Beside him, Jin took one look at Jisooâs face and frowned slightly.
âYouâre red.â
âThe fitting room was hot.â
âHm.â
For some reason, Jisoo refused to look directly at you after that. Which only made you more aware of her presence beside you. Annoyingly aware. At the counter, Jungkook casually pulled out his card before you could even reach for your wallet.
âYou donât have to buy everything,â you complained weakly.
âYes I do.â
âNo you donât.â
âYes I do,â he repeated confidently. âIâm literally just a man trying to provide for his princess.â
You snorted while the cashier tried not to smile. Meanwhile Jin looked personally offended at the bill total.
âThis store is manipulating consumers emotionally.â
âYou bought skincare worth more than this yesterday,â Jisoo reminded him.
âThat was essential.â
âYour star headbands arenât essential.â
âThey improve morale.â
A few minutes later, the four of you walked out carrying bags while the mall buzzed loudly around you. Jungkook stretched dramatically before suddenly turning around.
âOkay, Iâm hungry. Letâs eat something.â
âAgain?â Jin asked. âYou consumed two pretzels already.â
âThat was appetizer behavior.â
Then Jungkook pointed proudly at all of you âMy treat.â
Jisoo shook her head instantly. âNo, itâs okay.â
Before he could argue again, you immediately grabbed Jisooâs wrist lightly.
âPlease come,â you said softly. âI want dessert.â
Jisoo looked down at your hand around her wrist for a second too long. Then her expression softened automatically.
ââŠFine.â
Jungkook gasped dramatically. âSo she listens to YOU but not me?â
âCorrect,â Jin answered immediately.
âThatâs actually crazy.â
You laughed while unconsciously staying close to Jisoo as the four of you headed toward the food court together. And neither of you mentioned the fitting room once.
Movie nights at Jisoo and Jinâs apartment were always chaotic half the snacks disappeared before the movie even started.
Jungkook was buried into one corner of the bed dramatically complaining that nobody appreciated his movie choices, while Jin kept pausing every ten minutes to âanalyze plot holes.â
âYou analyze everything,â Jisoo sighed.
âThatâs because Iâm intellectually gifted.â
âYou cried during a penguin documentary.â
âThey were emotionally compelling.â
You laughed loudly, falling sideways against Jisoo automatically none of you questioned it anymore. The four of you sat tangled beneath blankets across the large bed while the movie played in dim lighting.
Jungkook rested comfortably against the headboard beside you, occasionally feeding you snacks without even looking away from the screen. Meanwhile Jisoo sat so close your shoulders touched completely at some point during the movie, a romantic scene appeared onscreen. The room grew quieter naturally.
Jisoo shifted slightly beside you beneath the blanket, absentmindedly resting her hand lightly against your thigh while still watching the movie. The kind of touch best friends probably didnât even notice. Except you noticed immediately. Your breathing changed slightly before you could stop it and when her thumb moved once unconsciously against the fabricâ
Your stomach tightened strangely. You shifted closer without thinking, your hand resting briefly against her hips beneath the blanket as if it belonged there naturally. Neither of you looked at each other neither of you moved away. The movie scene grew more intense in the background while silence settled oddly between you.
Then suddenly, almost at the same momentâJungkook leaned toward you affectionately from one side while Jin pulled Jisoo closer against him from the other. Reality crashed back instantly. You and Jisoo both pulled your hands away from each other beneath the blanket at the exact same second.
Jungkook noticed your startled expression immediately.
âYou okay, princess?â
Your heartbeat thudded painfully hard âYeah,â you answered too quickly. Beside you, Jisoo stayed focused on the TV a little too carefully while Jin rested comfortably against her shoulder, completely unaware.
The entire economics department looked half-dead on exam morning. Students filled the classroom with anxious whispering, last-minute revision panic, and dramatic promises to âstart studying properly next semester.â None of which were true.
You sat at your assigned bench beside. Jungkook, nervously tapping your pen against the desk while trying not to throw up from stress.
âIâm actually going to fail,â you whispered dramatically.
âYou say that before every exam.â Jungkook snorted while spreading his pens across the desk like a businessman preparing contracts. A row behind you, Jisoo and Jin were already arguing quietly.
âYou brought color-coded sticky notes into the exam hall?â Jisoo whispered.
Jin looked offended. âPreparation is attractive.â
Before Jisoo could answer, you suddenly turned around in your seat with genuine panic in your eyes.
âSooya,â you whispered dramatically, âIâm scared.â The second Jisoo saw your face soften anxiously, her expression changed immediately too without even thinking about it, she leaned forward slightly and placed her hand gently on top of your head.
âI trust you,â she said softly.
The words hit you strangely hard. Like she believed in you more than you believed in yourself. Your shoulders relaxed automatically beneath her touch and beside you, Jungkook noticed immediately. His eyes flicked from Jisooâs hand on your head to your softened expression. Something small and sharp twisted briefly in his chest. Before the feeling could settle, he suddenly grabbed your wrist dramatically and pulled you back toward him.
âIf you panic during the exam,â he whispered confidently, âcopy from my paper, okay?â
You burst out laughing instantly âWow Academic dishonesty.â
âThatâs love.â
âThatâs suspension.â
âSame thing.â
Suddenly the bell ring the classroom slowly fell silent as the invigilator walked between rows placing question papers upside down on each desk. Someone in the back whispered a prayer. Another student looked seconds away from fainting.
You grabbed Jungkookâs sleeve dramatically.
âIf I die today,â you whispered, âdelete my browsing history.â
Jungkook looked offended. âYou donât trust me with your secrets?â
âI barely trust myself with my secrets.â
Thenâ
âYou may begin.â
Papers flipped across the room all at once. Your eyes dropped to the first question. You stared blankly for three full seconds.
âOh my god,â you mouthed silently.
Beside you, Jungkook already started writing immediately like a traitor. You turned around slowly toward Jisoo in betrayal. Jisoo read the first page calmly before looking up at your horrified face. Her lips twitched instantly. You mouthed dramatically: iâm finished.
She mouthed back: breathe.
Meanwhile Jin adjusted his glasses like he had personally written the exam paper himself.
âThis is light work,â he whispered arrogantly.
Jisoo kicked his shoe under the desk instantly.
âOw.â
âBe humble.â
âIâm academically gifted.â
âYou failed macroeconomics.â
âThat was political.â
The invigilator narrowed their eyes suspiciously from the front. Everyone went silent again. A few minutes passed. Pens scratched against paper. Pages turned and slowly, your panic settled enough to actually start writing. Halfway through the exam, your brain froze on one question again.
Slowly, carefully, you nudged Jeon Jungkook with your elbow. âKoo,â you whispered desperately, âshow me.â
Without even lifting his head, Jungkook whispered back, âYou called me Koo during academic crisis. Thatâs serious.â
âJungkook please.â
âI risk prison for you every day.â
âYou literally told me to copy earlier!â
âThat was before I saw the invigilator walking like Batman.â
You tried peeking toward his paper anyway. Immediately Jungkook shifted his answer sheet dramatically away from you.
âKOO.â
âUse your own intelligence.â
âI donât have any left.â
From the row behind, Jin looked up slowly with judgment in his eyes âI will inform the invigilator,â he announced quietly.
Your jaw dropped âYou traitor.â
âAcademic integrity matters.â
âYou were born seventy years old.â
Jin ignored you proudly. Meanwhile Jisoo was trying not to laugh so hard her shoulders shook. Jisoo leaned forward slightly afterward, voice softer this time.
âDoll,â she whispered carefully, âread the question properly again first.â
You frowned down at the paper dramatically. Then paused.
âŠOh âOh wait.â
Jungkook looked over instantly. âDid your brain finally reboot?â
âThe graph is literally already given.â
The invigilator suddenly cleared their throat loudly from the front. All four of you straightened instantly like innocent students. Jungkook quietly slid another tiny note toward you beneath the desk.
> if you fail we fail together âĄ
You bit your lip hard to stop yourself from smiling too much in the middle of the exam hall.
After the exhausting exam week, you and Jisoo ended up alone in her apartment while Jin and Jungkook went out to grab snacks. You dropped dramatically onto Jisooâs bed with a groan.
âMy whole body hurts.â
Jisoo looked up from her phone immediately. âExam stress or Jungkook stress?â
You threw a pillow at her. She laughed softly before moving closer beside you.
âCome here,â she said. âIâll help.â
A second later, her hands rested gently against your shoulders. Your entire body relaxed embarrassingly fast beneath her touch.
âOh my god,â you mumbled. âMarry me.â
Jisoo snorted softly. âYou say that every week.â
âBecause youâre talented.â Her fingers moved slowly against your tense muscles while soft music played quietly in the background.
âYou really were stressed,â Jisoo murmured quietly after a while.
âMhm.â
" I can help"
You looked away first âDonât flirt with me randomly.â
âI wasnât flirting.â Jisoo tilted her head slightly, studying your face âAnd what if it was?â
The room suddenly felt quieter. You tried laughing it off, but the sound came out softer than expected.
âThen youâre bad at friendship boundaries.â
Jisoo smiled faintly âYou never complained before.â
Before you could answer, she reached up naturally and brushed a strand of hair away from your face. A tiny gesture. Something sheâd done your whole life. Yet this time neither of you moved afterward. Your eyes stayed locked for a second too long. Your heartbeat started climbing quietly. Jisoo noticed it too.nYou could tell by the way her expression slowly changedâconfused, careful, almost nervous.
âDoll,â she whispered softly.
The nickname sounded different suddenly. Your hand moved before your brain caught up, fingers holding her waist and when Jisoo leaned closer this time, neither of you stopped it.
The kiss was soft. Like both of you were waiting for the other to pull away. But neither of you did.
Jisooâs hand slowly rested against your cheek The second kiss lasted longer. Your stomach twisted nervously when her forehead rested briefly against yours afterward. Both of you breathing too quietly.
The doorbell rang so suddenly that both of you jumped apart instantly. Your heartbeat nearly stopped. Jisoo pulled back first, eyes wide with the same panic reflected in yours. For one frozen second, neither of you moved.
The bell rang again. Reality crashed back violently. You stood up too quickly from the bed, almost stumbling while fixing your hair with shaky hands. Jisoo immediately looked away, pretending to focus on folding the blanket despite her flushed cheeks.
The bell rang a third time âIâll get it,â you blurted quickly.
You walked toward the door trying to breathe normally, trying to look normal, trying not to think about what had just happened five seconds ago. The moment you opened the door, Jungkook grinned brightly.
âThereâs myââ He stopped mid-sentence when he saw your face properly.
Immediately his expression softened with concern âBaby? You okay?â
Behind him, Jin held grocery bags while complaining about instant noodles being overpriced. You didnât answer Jungkook immediately.
Instead, before even understanding why, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him tightly. Jungkook blinked in surprise before hugging you back instantly.
âWhoa,â he laughed softly. âMissed me that much?â
You buried your face against his chest and suddenly guilt hit you so hard your chest physically hurt.
âCan we go home?â you asked quietly.
Jungkook pulled back slightly to look at you properly. His brows furrowed immediately.
âPrincess, what happened?â
âNothing,â you answered too fast.
Jungkook didnât push further after hearing your voice. His hand immediately settled gently at your lower back as he guided you toward the elevator.
âText us when you reach,â Jin called casually from behind. Jungkook only nodded before looking back at you again.
âCome here, baby.â
The second the elevator doors closed, he pulled you against him carefully. Not demanding answers. Just holding you.
âYouâre scaring me a little,â he admitted quietly. âDid someone say something to you?â
âNo.â
âThen what happened?â
You shook your head weakly and buried your face into his hoodie again and because Jungkook loved you the way he did completely, openly, instinctively he stopped asking immediately.
âOkay,â he murmured softly, kissing the top of your head. âWeâll just go home.â
â
Back upstairs, silence filled the apartment the second the door shut. Jisoo stood frozen near the hallway, still unable to process what had happened.
Meanwhile Jin calmly placed the grocery bags onto the kitchen counter like nothing unusual had happened. Then casually, without even looking at her properly, he spoke.
âFix your lipstick,â he said. âItâs smudged.â
Jisooâs entire body went cold. Her eyes snapped toward him instantly. For one horrifying second, she genuinely couldnât breathe.
Did he know? Did he understand?
âNo, it justââ she started quickly, voice unsteady. âDoll hugged me suddenly andââ
âI didnât ask for explanation.â His tone wasnât loud. That somehow made it worse.
Jisoo watched him carefully now as Jin finally turned toward her fully. Gone was the joking expression he usually wore around her. He looked serious.
âYouâre my girlfriend,â he said quietly. âSo I trust you enough not to ask stupid questions.â
Jisooâs throat tightened.
âBut if Jungkook gets hurt because of anything,â Jin continued calmly, âyouâll see a side of me you wonât like.â
Underneath all his jokes and dramatic behaviorâeveryone knew Jin loved Jungkook like family. Jisoo looked down immediately, guilt twisting painfully in her stomach. Jin sighed softly after a moment, some tension leaving his shoulders.
âJust⊠figure out what youâre feeling before someone innocent gets broken by it.â
"You are both haunted things. Mistakes you didnât mean to make and aching you didnât know how to hold. Dolour, guilt, love; they all braid themselves into something relentless. And yet, even in the ruin, you keep finding your way to each other."
ⶠPAIRING: brother in law!jungkook x widowed fem!reader
ⶠGENRE: childhood friends to lovers, forbidden love au, angst, smut, fluff
ⶠW.C: 54.5k
ⶠRATING: 18+ MINORS DNI
ⶠSTATUS: finished
ⶠWARNINGS: unrequited love (at first), minor character death, mention of cancer, hospitals,deals with grief and healing, angst, so much angst, complex family relationships, childhood love, tension, pining, yearning (mostly from Mr I can not, not look at you), pathetic man in love, lovesick!jk, buisness guy!jk, emotionally constipated, college professor!oc, rich people not being casual with get togethers, namjin, yoongi mention, everybody knows but her, protective!jk, jealous!jk, smut, comes with body worship, know more in chapter inclusive ones
ⶠA/N: Hi loves! My finals have officially ended (freedom tastes so sweet), and now that I have way too much time on my hands, I decided to finally sit down and put together this little Guilty As Sin masterpost for you all! I am unbelievably thankful for all the love this fic has received. I know I've said it before but it really means so much, especially since I never imagined it. The final part is on its way very, very soon. Can't wait to share it with you đ«¶đ also requests are open for the drabbles for this couple drop in my inbox if you have any love you so much!!
MASTERLIST | WATTPAD | AO3
â€č CHAPTER INDEX .á.á
â€č PART đ: Drowning in the Blue Nile. He sent me 'Downtown Lights'. I hadn't heard it in a while.
"You are stuck in time, and Jungkook doesn't stop running from it until he eventually does, and you learn that grief doesnât wait for death, that love isn't all that dignifying."
W.C: 17.33K
â€č PART đđ: Crashing into him tonight. He's a paradox. I'm seeing visions, am I bad?
"He remembered how to stayâand you learned that some things are worth the mess, that love sometimes comes too late, but longing never does."
W.C: 17.8k
â€č PART đđđ: They don't know how you've haunted me. So stunningly. I choose you and me Religiously.
"After all lessons are learned. There's only one to live out in practicality. You're not sure how good you're at it."
What are your plans for Liminal? I mean the ending ? will Jisoo and Y/N end up together while Jungkook and Jin get betrayed or is it going to be something different? Btw I'm very excited for it
I donât know either đ I only began writing it, but when I reached the part where Jisoo and Y/Nâs closeness deepens, it felt almost like I had committed some sort of sin....because there in same, Jungkook and Jin unaware of what is unfolding. One thing i would say that in Liminal Jin and Jungkook are green forest đ€
You and Jisoo have been best friends since childhood, sharing a bond that feels deeper than normal friendshipâbut neither of you ever admits it out loud. Both of you secretly feel an unexplained âsomething more,â but assume itâs one-sided and keep convincing yourselves itâs just friendship.
You are datingJungkook, while Jisoo is in a relationship with SeokJin. Even with your separate relationships, you both keep gravitating back to each other emotionally in ways neither boyfriend fully understands.
Everything starts shifting when you two jokingly react to lesbian couple memes on Instagram and begin trying âcouple-likeâ things as a joke. But what starts as playful curiosity slowly blurs the line between friendship and something much deeper, leaving both in a curiosity of having sex with each other
Pairing:- You Ă Jungkook, Jisso Ă Seokjin , YouĂJisso
Genre:-Romance | LGBTQ+ | Slow Burn| Cheating | Friends to Lover | Drama | smut | Lesbian sex ( haha I'm nervous)
Authorâs Note: this story is purely fictional. it explores a lesbian emotional storyline between two best friends ,also⊠this is my first time writing something like this, so I hope youâll go easy on me đ«¶đŒ
You and Jisoo have been best friends since childhood, sharing a bond that feels deeper than normal friendshipâbut neither of you ever admits it out loud. Both of you secretly feel an unexplained âsomething more,â but assume itâs one-sided and keep convincing yourselves itâs just friendship.
You are datingJungkook, while Jisoo is in a relationship with SeokJin. Even with your separate relationships, you both keep gravitating back to each other emotionally in ways neither boyfriend fully understands.
Everything starts shifting when you two jokingly react to lesbian couple memes on Instagram and begin trying âcouple-likeâ things as a joke. But what starts as playful curiosity slowly blurs the line between friendship and something much deeper, leaving both in a curiosity of having sex with each other
Pairing:- You Ă Jungkook, Jisso Ă Seokjin , YouĂJisso
Genre:-Romance | LGBTQ+ | Slow Burn| Cheating | Friends to Lover | Drama | smut | Lesbian sex ( haha I'm nervous)
Authorâs Note: this story is purely fictional. it explores a lesbian emotional storyline between two best friends ,also⊠this is my first time writing something like this, so I hope youâll go easy on me đ«¶đŒ
You and Jisoo have been best friends since childhood, sharing a bond that feels deeper than normal friendshipâbut neither of you ever admits it out loud. Both of you secretly feel an unexplained âsomething more,â but assume itâs one-sided and keep convincing yourselves itâs just friendship.
You are datingJungkook, while Jisoo is in a relationship with SeokJin. Even with your separate relationships, you both keep gravitating back to each other emotionally in ways neither boyfriend fully understands.
Everything starts shifting when you two jokingly react to lesbian couple memes on Instagram and begin trying âcouple-likeâ things as a joke. But what starts as playful curiosity slowly blurs the line between friendship and something much deeper, leaving both in a curiosity of having sex with each other
Pairing:- You Ă Jungkook, Jisso Ă Seokjin , YouĂJisso
Genre:-Romance | LGBTQ+ | Slow Burn| Cheating | Friends to Lover | Drama | smut | Lesbian sex ( haha I'm nervous)
Authorâs Note: this story is purely fictional. it explores a lesbian emotional storyline between two best friends ,also⊠this is my first time writing something like this, so I hope youâll go easy on me đ«¶đŒ
Summary: You and Jungkook have been friends since diapers, and one day you decide to hook up for the fun of it, but then you end up pregnant with your best friend's baby. Chaos ensues.
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Accidental Pregnancy AU, Childhood Friends to FWB to Lovers, Angst (if you squint), Fluff, Smut, Crack, Slow-Burn
Word Count: 71.2k total
Warnings: chapter specific warnings will be included on each individual post
Author's Note: this is the masterpost for the series where I'll link each chapter once theyâre posted! the fic is split by trimester and goes month by month throughout the pregnancy (and slightly before and after) across the three chapters. I hope you all enjoy it and pls feel free to lmk your thoughts or discuss things with me between chapters :)
The First Trimester (M)
Summary: Jungkook makes a proposition you can't don't want to refuse, and there are seemingly no consequences to your friendship at first, but then you miss you period and have to explain to all your loved ones how you got knocked up by your childhood best friend.
Word Count: 26k
The Second Trimester (M)
Summary: You're too busy attending baby prep classes and shopping for furniture together to focus on the significant changes living together and regularly hooking up has introduced into your relationship with Jungkook, although, it doesn't seem like either of you mind all that much.
Word Count: 20.3k
Drabble (M)
Summary: Jungkook decides to generously thank you for allowing him to use your body for his pleasure, but your best friend is an overachiever and his immense gratitude leaves you absolutely breathless.
Word Count: 2.6k
The Third Trimester (M)
Summary: Everything feels different after having the worst scare of your life, but your baby's due date is fast approaching and there's still plenty more important things to do than rifle through your ever-growing feelings for Jungkook. He certainly doesn't make it easy on you when he's constantly sweeping you off your feet.
My holidays have begun, and I donât really have any plans as of now . On top of that, my boyfriend is currently in his exam period (thank God đ at least he wonât be bothering međ⊠HEY, I DO LOVE HIM OKAY, VERY MUCH đĄ). So for the next 9â10 days, I plan to read Cradle Robbers and finish it by the end .
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