Summary: Jungkook is your husband who believes he lost his chance with your sister because of you. Now you're married to him, and revenge was the only reason he said yes to this marriage.
Warnings: jungkook is a walking red flag and oc is a dumb girl in love so read at your own risk? again, neither of their brains is fully developed here. toxic relationship, angst.
Word count: 11k
a/n: nine days in the making and here we are.... anon, i hope i did your request justice!! there will be a part two because yall i genuinely don't even know where to begin with this man’s redemption arc.... at this point, i fear the redemption arc alone is going to take over 10k words (lmk if you have any ideas, lend me ur creativity bbgs). all I can say is: please do not date men who do not kiss the ground you walk on!!!
taglist: @jiwikiwi @scriptved
You remembered the first time you saw him.
Your sister, Suji, was two years older than you and ever since you were ten, she brought her friends home nearly every weekend.
There were four of them: Jimin, Yejin, Taehyung, and Jungkook.
They were inseparable and exactly the kind of friendship you only ever read about in books or watched in movies. On weekends, your house was always filled with their voices and you never minded it, especially since two-years was not much of an age gap, hence you were included in almost everything they did.
That only changed after they graduated from high school and scattered across the country. Even then, the distance never truly separated them. They would stay in touch, called regularly, and planned a holiday together at least once a year.
As a child, being included in their group made you feel important. There was something exciting and cool about being ten and spending most of your time with older kids.
It did not take long for you to realise that Suji was the one holding them all together and her friends always orbited around her without noticing they were doing it. That never surprised you because Suji has always been the main character wherever she went, both at home and everywhere else.
You never resented her for it because she was the kindest sister you could have asked for. She never made you feel smaller than her, she invited you to parties you were too young to attend, defended you when Taehyung teased you about your missing front tooth, and let you borrow her clothes without ever complaining about it.
Her friends were kind to you too.
Jimin and Yejin were the first ones you met. You remembered them sitting beside you at the kitchen table, patiently helping you with your maths homework. Now they were married, with a daughter who was as cheerful as the two of them.
Then there was Taehyung, around whom fourteen-year-old Suji started acting differently. She became shy in his presence, more careful with her words, and she would glance at him now and then whenever she thought no one was looking. They were married now and, as far as you could tell, still having the time of their lives together.
And then there was Jungkook.
You, Suji, and the rest of her friends had been playing hide-and-seek throughout the house one Saturday afternoon, and Jungkook was the seeker. You hid behind the living-room curtain, holding your breath as you listened for his footsteps.
You were certain you would be caught first, because you barely had time to find a proper hiding place.
And you were right, Jungkook did find you first.
He pulled the curtain aside just enough to see you. But instead of dragging you out and gloating the way Taehyung or Jimin would have done, he merely smiled at you and ruffled your hair.
Then he let the curtain fall back into place and walked away to find the others.
You stayed behind the curtain for another full minute, your heart beating so loud that you considered asking your mom to call an ambulance.
At ten years old, what was that if not a knight in shining armour?
You have been in love with him ever since.
By fourteen, you assumed the feeling would have disappeared. It was supposed to be puppy love; something harmless and embarrassing that you would laugh about with Suji over wine in ten years time. But it did not just disappear like you thought it would.
In high school, Jungkook became one of the popular boys. His face made insecure boys resent him and hopeful girls imagine they had a chance with him. Yet he never seemed interested in any of it, he only cared about being around Suji and the rest of their friends, and he never seemed to mind having you around either.
Well, mostly because you were his best friend’s little sister.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
At fifteen, you finally told Suji about your little embarrassing crush.
She was not surprised when you confessed that you had a crush on one of her best friends. Jungkook was handsome too so it wasn’t really weird. You learned much later that she had known for years, but that night, she only laughed softly and said, “I’ll help you get together with him when you’re a little older, okay?”
Not long after you told her, Jungkook stopped coming to the house.
The rest of the group continued gathering in your living room every weekend as loud and inseparable as ever, but his usual seat was always empty. You still caught glimpses of him in the school hallways. He never said hello, though that wasn’t really strange since he rarely greeted you at school even before he stopped coming around your house.
Then you noticed that Jungkook started spending time with a different crowd. And it happened around the same time Suji and Taehyung finally started dating. These two quickly became the school’s “it” couple, with every photograph of them posted online always accompanied with the same ‘#CoupleGoals’.
But them getting together never surprised you.
What surprised you was that the moment Suji and Taehyung got together, Jungkook noticed you again, but not the way you wanted him to. The time your paths crossed again, he spat onto the ground in front of you and looked at you as if the sight of you disgusted him.
You didn’t understand it. You’ve adored him for five years by then, and you had no idea what you did to deserve that kind of hatred.
When you asked Jimin whether you somehow offended Jungkook, he only sighed and told you not to take it personally. And that Jungkook started spending time with wealthy, arrogant boys, and he has changed.
To you, it made sense for him to hang out with a different crowd, especially since he came from a different tax bracket than you did.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You were twenty-two when you received the phone call from your mother.
By this time, Jungkook was somewhere not in your life; he was just a name that came up at your school reunion and nowhere else. You’ve heard things about him; that he helped his father ran their family’s company, then him eventually becoming the CEO.
Your mother has been a single mother almost your whole life, and she has never once, in twenty-two years, called you sounding like she was preparing for you to leave her life.
"Can you come home?" she asked, "tonight, if you can. I need to talk to you about something and I don't want to do it over the phone."
You asked if everything was okay, and she said she'll explain when you were there, which is somehow worse than any answer she could have given you, and you spent the whole drive over with your stomach tightened in knots.
Your mom was waiting at the kitchen table when you arrived, two cups of tea already going cold in front of her like she made them an hour ago and forgot they existed the moment she poured them.
“Mom?” you asked as you sat down in front of her, “this is reminding me of horror movies,” you chuckled.
"I need to tell you something," she said, "and I need you to not hate me."
You immediately became silent and didn’t even dare to say anything. So you let her say whatever she wanted to say in her own time, because she seemed as if she was going to burst into tears.
"I owe some family a great deal of money," she said, finally opening up after what felt like fifteen minutes, "forty million dollars. It's to the Jeon's family. Jeon Jungkook, do you remember him? From when you were kids, Suji's friend.."
You couldn’t help the gasp that followed, "How?" was all you could manage to respond with.
forty million dollars was more money than you have ever seen in your life. Your mother was an investment banker at a small firm, so your family has never been poor, but you were nowhere near forty-million-dollars rich. But then, compared to the Jeon family, you might as well have been poor.
“I’d been at the firm for three years by then,” your mother said, her eyes fixed on the table, “I was young enough to be desperate for a win. I wanted to prove myself, especially in rooms full of men who called me sweetheart and honey during meetings and constantly tease me.”
She paused, playing with her fingers in her lap, “One of my colleagues brought me a deal. It was a startup that was supposedly going to be bought out within eighteen months. It was the kind of tip that could make someone’s career if it worked.”
“And you believed him?” you asked.
“I believed in the startup,” she corrected, “enough to pass it on to a client I’d been trying to win over for months. Jungkook’s parents. I told them it was a sure thing,” your mother said, her voice slightly breaking on the word sure, “I wasn’t lying to them. I believed it too.”
She looked down at her hands, “That’s the part that still keeps me awake. I didn’t do it because I wanted to hurt anyone. I did it because I wanted them to trust me. I wanted it so badly.”
“And it failed?”
“Not at first. For a few months, everything looked promising, then the company’s lead investor pulled out after a fraud investigation. None of us saw it coming and the entire company collapsed within six weeks.”
She paused before continuing, “Jungkook’s parents lost almost everything they invested. And because I was the one who brought them the deal and told them their money would be safe, they came to me. forty million dollars was what they believed they would have earned if the deal had succeeded, added to everything they had lost.”
“They expected you to pay all of that?” you asked in disbelief.
“They said I could take as long as I needed and I could repay it at whatever pace I could manage, and they would never tell anyone what happened,” she said, before finally looking up at you.
"How much have you paid so far?" you ask, though some part of you already knows the answer will hurt you.
"Five hundred thousand. A little more, actually, slowly but steadily I was paying it off, but it has been years since the deal, ____," she said, her eyes filled with tears.
You have never seen her crying this much, not even at your father's funeral where she held back her tears for her children, "I didn't want you or Suji to know. It’s a debt I don’t want the two of you to carry.”
"And the rest of it?" you finally asked, "you wouldn't have called me here just to tell me about the debt or the amount. There's something else, right?"
Your mother's hands tighten in her lap, "They want to erase the whole forty million debt, if.. "
"If what?" you asked nervously.
"If you marry their son, Jungkook."
You laughed at your mother, because what she just said sounded like an opening line of a story or a cringe fan fiction you read on Wattpad years ago.
Then you looked at her face and understood she wasn’t trying to fool you at all.
“Mom,” you quietly said, your voice shaking out of anger, confusion, and sadness, you couldn’t really tell.
“I barely know him anymore. We haven’t spoken in years, and he’s not the boy from my childhood anymore. I don’t even know who he is now.”
“I know,” she said, and she sounded as if she dreaded saying the idea aloud, for even thinking of asking you to do this, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for even considering asking this of you,” her voice trembled, “I’ve thought it over in my head for weeks, and I feel so bad as a mother, it feels as if I’m selling you to fix my own mistake.”
She drew in a breath, “It’s fine, you don’t need to do this. I’ll find another way. I will not make you responsible for a debt that belongs to me.”
“Jungkook is a good-looking man, Mom. He’s rich too and he could have anyone he wanted,” you hesitated before asking further, “so why would he agree to this? Why me?”
“He’s refused everyone his parents have introduced him to,” she said quietly, “for years, apparently he has refused half a dozen women. From what I understand, he turned every one of them down.”
She paused before adding, “But this time, his parents told me it was his idea,” her eyes lifted to yours, “he chose you.”
You thought it was bullshit, why would Jungkook choose you out of all people? It was clear as days that his eyes were never on yours, and all of the sudden he has chosen you?
Jungkook was an old friend you spent years hoping never to see again. What could someone like him possibly want from you now?
You couldn’t help but wonder if being chosen meant being wanted by Jungkook, or if you were simply the easiest answer to him; something he agreed to because saying yes was easier than arguing with his parents over a marriage he did not care enough to refuse.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You said yes.
Because when you did the math more than once that week, lying awake in the dark, trying to picture your mom at seventy still working even during the weekends to pay down a debt that is almost impossible to pay off.
You just couldn’t make yourself accept a future that looks like that when you have the power to end it with a single word.
You said yes because you have spent your whole life being the person who helps everyone around you. The little sister who never made anyone feel lacking in anything, the daughter who learned early not to add her own weight to a household already struggling with just one income. You were always the person who takes care of others when they are sick and never asks anyone to do the same for you.
It is the only thing you have ever known what to do. And some part of you just does not know how to look at someone who needs you and say no, even when the person who needs you most is yourself.
Then there is the other reason.
That small part of you that is still ten years old, still standing behind a curtain while Jungkook smiled at you, has never fully stopped hoping there might be a version of this where Jungkook looks at you without hatred.
You know how ridiculous that sounded.
You know it is not the kind of reason anyone sensible enough should agree to a marriage. But you were ten when you fell for him, and somehow, despite everything, a part of that girl never really went away. When your mother said Jungkook had chosen you, that little girl came rushing back.
You understand, even as you agreed to the marriage, that this is a stupid reason to ruin your life. Yet you said yes anyway, because you have never been as rational as you would like to believe when it comes to Jungkook.
Because some part of you would rather walk willingly into the fire than spend the rest of your life wondering what might have happened if you had turned away.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Two weeks later you were standing in a hotel lobby, your hands were trembling despite the summer heat outside, because his mother suggested or insisted, really, that the two of you meet before anything was finalized.
You spent forty minutes deciding what to wear and hated yourself for even caring about it.
Jungkook was already there when you arrived, sitting at a corner table with his jacket off and his sleeves pushed up, and his phone in his hand. He didn't stand up when you sat down.
Up close, he still looked familiar, only older now. He had tattoos all over his right arm and there was very little left of the boy who used to smile at you like the two of you shared a secret.
"You're late," Jungkook said, not even looking up to look at you.
"By only four minutes," you answered.
"Four minutes I didn't have."
"Then you should've told your mother not to schedule this in the first place," you scoffed.
That finally made him look up from his phone. Something changed across his face, you could tell that Jungkook was surprised that you answered back at him instead of backing down like he seemed to expect you to do.
You remembered, vaguely, a boy who was gentle to you. There was very little of him left in the man frowning at you now, and you hated that some part of you still mourned the loss of someone you barely knew anymore.
"You don't remember me, do you?" Jungkook asked.
"Oh, I remember you," you said, “though you used to be nicer."
"You used to be shorter," Jungkook said, rolling his eyes at you.
You ordered coffee neither of you touched and spent the next forty minutes arguing about the wedding neither of you wanted.
And some small, foolish part of you enjoyed that meeting because arguing with Jungkook meant he was looking at you. It meant you mattered enough to annoy him.
It meant, for those forty minutes at least, you managed to take up space in his mind.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You married him six weeks later, on a bright Saturday in August, in a dress that cost more than your mother's monthly salary, in a ballroom filled with flowers your mother-in-law chose without consulting you.
The man standing in front of you was not the boy who once found you behind a curtain during a hide-and-seek game.
Jungkook shook your hand instead of kissing you when the officiant told him he could. He even came up with a charming joke about how shaking hands was an inside joke between the two of you, which made the room laugh.
When you told Suji and Taehyung that you were marrying Jungkook, neither of them believed you. It happened too quickly, you have never told them you were in a relationship, there was no engagement or anything that might have explained how the two of you have gone from never speaking to planning a wedding.
You could not tell them about the debt. You didn’t want them to be angry with your mom, so you insisted it was a long time coming. You told them you have always loved Jungkook and that, somewhere along the way, he secretly started to feel the same way.
Suji and Taehyung did not believe that either, of course they didn’t, they knew Jungkook has always liked Suji. They just didn’t want you to know it, that was what they have been protecting you from since you were ten. So, at the wedding, neither of them cried. Even Jimin and Yejin didn’t bother to congratulate you either.
Suji only held your hands for a moment, while Taehyung stood beside her with an expression you couldn’t bring yourself to read.
“We’re here for you,” Suji said.
“Anytime,” Taehyung added.
You couldn’t tell whether that was a warning, but you knew then that they knew something you didn’t.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Jungkook’s hand on your waist during the first dance felt cold, because he was touching you only because the event expected him to. He never pulled you closer or whispered something sweet in between of the dance. His eyes stayed fixed somewhere over your shoulder, while you moved together with the applause of people who believed they were watching two people in love.
Later, in a hotel suite far too large for two people who had nothing to say to each other, you and Jungkook sat at opposite ends of the couch, still dressed in your wedding clothes.
Jungkook's tie had been pulled loose and the top buttons of his shirt were undone. Your veil was folded beside you and the hand bouquet of flowers were placed right between the two of you.
“Just so we’re clear, we’re only married on paper,” Jungkook eventually said.
Jungkook didn’t think he was being cruel to you. If anything, he believed he was doing you a kindness by being honest from the beginning.
“I won’t cheat on you. I can’t afford to have my company being caught up in a scandal,” he continued, “but I’m not going to treat you like a wife. As far as I’m concerned, you’re just my roommate.”
“Okay,” you said.
It was the only word you could utter at that moment.
You did not know how to explain how his words made you feel. You only knew that you already decided Jungkook would never see you cry over something he clearly would never think was worth grieving.
You changed out of your wedding dress in the bathroom because it felt strange to do it in front of a husband who barely looked at you since the ceremony.
That night, you slept on opposite sides of the same bed, with a pillow placed between the two of you like a line neither of you was meant to cross.
By the time you woke up the next morning, Jungkook was already gone.
At the very least, Jungkook had the decency to leave a note on the counter with his flight time. Much later in the marriage, you would realize it was the first of countless mornings that started the same way:
waking up to find out that Jungkook already left.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
first year of marriage
Jungkook moved into the guest room during the very first day you started living together. That first night, you lay awake in the enormous bed you were apparently meant to have all to yourself, listening to the faint sounds of Jungkook moving around the apartment.
Then during the first year of your marriage, you found yourself keeping track of everything Jungkook never did.
You stupidly believed that if you counted the nights he came home, the meals you shared, and the times he looked at you like he cared about you, then you might be able to prove that things were getting better. And when they did not, the numbers became proof that you had not imagined how lonely the marriage made you feel.
You hated that you cared enough to count it all and you hated yourself even more for still waiting for Jungkook to change.
Pathetic did not feel like a strong enough word for measuring your marriage by how little your husband gave you, only to find yourself disappointed each time the answer was almost nothing.
You counted the nights he came home before midnight: 11 out of 365 days.
You counted the meals you ate at the same table: 4, and two of those were during the week his grandmother visited. To Jungkook, keeping up appearances to his family mattered more than whatever existed between the two of you.
You counted the number of times he asked how your day was: 0.
Well, what did you really expect?
This was an arranged marriage, and Jungkook chose you because he knew you would be easy to please without ever having to worry that you might leave the marriage. At some point, you realized maybe Jungkook had always known how you felt about him. Perhaps that was why he had chosen you as his wife in the first place.
Yet what some stupid part of you wanted was to know undoubtedly that he cared for you, even just a little.
Whenever you were out with friends and thought of him, you would bring something home and leave it on the counter with a note telling him it was his to eat or drink.
By morning, the food was always still sitting there on the counter, clearly untouched.
Jungkook never ate any of the food you brought home for him, not once that entire year. So eventually, you stopped being surprised and then, sometime near the end of the first year, you stopped bringing anything home at all.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Family holidays were the worst because Jungkook never bothered to show up. So you had to act and lie to everyone around you that the marriage was fine and Jungkook is just one busy businessman.
“He’s on a business trip,” you told your mother at Chuseok, “the company’s expanding into three new markets this quarter. He barely has time to sleep.”
“He’s swamped with work,” you told Suji at your father’s memorial dinner. That was the one day you truly wanted him there. Just once, you wanted your fake husband to stand beside you at your father’s grave, so you didn't have to lie when you were already drowning in grief and sadness. “Jungkook sends his condolences,” you added.
He did not.
You made it up, the way you always did. He did not come because he did not want to, because you were not worth giving up even a single hour of his life for. You could not say any of that to the people who loved you, not yet and maybe not ever.
Besides, you had no one to blame but yourself.
No one had forced you to say yes. Your mother would have been fine if she had to keep paying the debt, even if it took the rest of her life, and you could have helped her without marrying Jungkook. There were always other choices you could have picked, harder ones perhaps, but they always existed.
Yet you chose this route.
You walked into the marriage willingly because some foolish part of you wanted an answer to the question you’ve always had since you were ten: what would happen if Jungkook chose you to be his partner?
Well, now, the adult version of you know.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
What you didn't know that first year was that Jungkook noticed all the empty containers more than he let on, he noticed all the food you brought home for him to consume.
Jungkook would come home late most nights, and sometimes later than he actually needed to, because coming home early meant having to sit in the same room as you, and Jungkook never knew what to say to you.
He would see the food you left for him on the counter with a small note on top of it. And every time he saw it, something in his chest felt weird. Jungkook told himself what he felt had to be guilt, there was no other reason for him to care about you.
A few times, Jungkook found himself standing in the kitchen in the middle of the night, holding the food you brought home and he would just stare at it for a while before putting it back exactly where you left it. Because he didn’t want you to know he had even looked or noticed the effort you put in for him.
To Jungkook, the whole point of this marriage was revenge.
You ruined his life, so he was ruining yours.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
second year of marrtiage
By the second year of your arranged marriage, you were used to the coldness between you and Jungkook. You stopped hoping for him to change his ways, you stopped waiting for him at dinner and setting out a second plate.
You started going to Suji's for girls’ nights and coming home late on purpose, just to see if Jungkook would notice and he never did. Thankfully, it didn't hurt you as much as it would have in the first year. Most nights, he was either still out or locked inside his study. Sometimes the light under the door was the only sign that he was even home.
The apartment stayed exactly the same whether you were there or not.
At New Year, your aunt cornered you before dinner, “Where’s your husband? We’ve only met him twice in two years, and one of those times was at your wedding.”
“He’s closing a deal in Singapore,” you answered easily as lying about Jungkook was almost natural by now, “it’s a big one, so he had to be there.”
What she did not know was that you cried in your car before coming upstairs. You gave yourself exactly ten minutes to cry, sitting in the dark parking lot with the engine off and your forehead pressed against the steering wheel. Once ten minutes were over, you went upstairs to greet your family and smiled as if nothing was wrong.
It was also during the second year that you flew to Jeju for the wedding of one of Jungkook’s business partners.
You assumed you would sit together since it was still a public appearance. It felt stupid now, standing at the gate of priority passengers with your boarding pass in hand, but you didn’t think to check your tickets until Jungkook told you.
“I’m flying first class,” he said, “you’re in economy.”
“Oh,” you forced a small laugh, trying to sound as if it didn’t bother you, “I thought you would’ve booked us seats next to each other.”
“Economy seat should be fine for you. It’s only three hours.”
You spent the flight in a middle seat between two strangers, leaning past the person beside you whenever you wanted to look out the window.
Years ago, you believed being noticed by Jungkook would feel like winning something.
Now you were his wife, and he couldn’t even be bothered to sit beside you.
When the plane landed, he was not waiting for you, just as you expected. You had to book a taxi to the hotel alone and texted him to say you have arrived. And his only reply was the number of the room you had to share together since most of his colleagues and friends are staying in the same hotel.
When you let yourself into the room, he was on a call, feet up on the balcony railing as he sat on the balcony couch. It was thankfully an ensuite room with 2 separate beds, so you didn’t have to share a bed with him. Your only interaction with Jungkook then was when he lifted his finger in front of his mouth to tell you to be silent as he was talking on the phone.
At the wedding reception, you sat at a table full of his friends, who happened to be the group he used to hang out with at school, and you smiled throughout a dinner where no one asked you a single question about yourself, because to them you were simply "Jungkook's wife.”
You weren’t paying much attention to the conversation until one of the women at the table turned to you, “Is that even a real Van Cleef?” she asked, nodding at your bracelet, “it doesn’t look like it.”
“It isn’t,” you said, “it was handmade by a small business.”
“Huh,” she looked at it again, her mouth twisting slightly in disgust.
Another woman leaned closer, “Don’t you think you should make more of an effort with Jungkook’s friends? You never come to any of our gatherings. We barely know anything about you besides the fact that you’re Suji’s younger sister.”
Jungkook has never invited you to any of those gatherings, but you couldn’t tell them that, it would only give them something else to laugh about, “I’ve been busy,” you said.
“Jungkook is much busier than you,” one of the men cut in.
The first woman looked at you again, “You should be more careful about how you dress too, wearing cheap jewellery makes your husband look bad.”
It was not as if Jungkook has ever given you money to buy anything, not that you would have taken it even if he had.
“I see,” you muttered.
You stared at her bracelet before standing up from your seat, “Well, at least mine was made responsibly by someone who was paid fairly,” you said, “can you say the same about yours? Or do you just not care about the children who had to mine the diamond and stones as long as your jewellery came in an expensive box?”
Then you picked up your bag and walked away before any of them could answer.
Later, near the bar, you overheard your husband's name.
"Jungkook, honestly, I always thought you would end up with the sister. Suji, right? The one who's married to Taehyung now? She would've made more sense since you had always fancied Suji too. I mean, no offense, your wife seemed sweet, I guess, but.."
"She doesn't really fit in with us, does she?" someone else said, finishing the sentence the other couldn’t.
You turned away before you could hear Jungkook’s response, already heading back towards a table where you felt just as out of place, then his voice stopped you mid-step.
“Yeah,” Jungkook answered, sounding almost bored, “I guess Suji would’ve made more sense for me.”
That was the day you found out Jungkook fancied your sister.
You waited until you were in the hotel bathroom to cry. You locked the door, sat on the closed toilet lid, and pressed both hands over your mouth because Jungkook was somewhere on the other side of the wall and you could not let him hear you.
It should not have hurt as much as it did, you knew he did not love you. Jungkook made that clear from the first night of your marriage.
But knowing he did not want you was different from finding out he liked your own sister.
Suddenly, everything made sense to you.
The way Taehyung and Suji looked at each other when you announced the marriage to them and the way they never congratulated you. They knew, everyone knew except you.
And the worst part was remembering that you told them you have always loved Jungkook, and that he secretly liked you too.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
A few weeks later, back home, you went to dinner at one of Jungkook’s business partner’s houses. You wore the nicest outfit you owned, but you knew the second you walked in that it still was not enough for them.
One of the wives looked you up and down before smiling, “Cute,” she said.
And you knew it was not a compliment.
“No ring upgrade yet?” another woman asked during dessert, nodding at the plain band on your finger, “Jungkook usually doesn’t do anything halfway. I guess he’s saving the good jewellery for later.”
“She likes simple things,” Jungkook said without looking at you and then he continued, “Suji always said less is more too.”
You quickly excused yourself and went to the bathroom before your face gave you away. When you came back, they were talking about Suji, about how smart and impressive she was.
“You know,” one of his friends said to you as he refilled his glass, “we always thought Jungkook would end up with your sister. You seem sweet, but Suji and Jungkook would’ve made much more sense together.”
“None taken,” you said. This was a conversation you have heard before, so you didn’t really care much of it, at least that was what you thought.
You looked at Jungkook across the table and waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. Jungkook could have told them to stop. He could have done anything that made you feel like you were not just the wrong sister sitting in Suji’s place. But instead, he looked away and didn’t even bother to correct them.
You didn’t speak during the entire drive home, Jungkook didn’t ask what was wrong or maybe he didn’t even notice how your silence was different, or maybe every silence with you sounded the same to him.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
The next morning, you tried to talk to him about it, because some stubborn, hopeful part of you still believed that if you just explained it clearly enough, he would understand how you felt.
"You compared me to my sister in front of your friends," you said, over coffee he was drinking standing up, already half way out the door.
"It wasn't a big deal," he said, checking his watch, “it was a joke."
"It didn't feel like a joke."
"I don't have time for this right now," he said, "can we talk about it tonight?"
You knew, even as you nodded, that tonight would turn into tomorrow, and tomorrow would become some vague promise of “later”. By then, you already knew what later meant with Jungkook, it meant never.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
What you did not know was that Jungkook kept thinking about what he said in Jeju.
“Suji would’ve made more sense.”
The words came back to him at random times; in the shower, in the elevator, during meetings when he was supposed to be listening, and he kept telling himself it was true. Suji was always the one he wanted and everyone knew that.
Still, he could not understand why saying it had made him feel so bad.
Jungkook should not have felt guilty. You were the reason he lost Suji in the first place. You were the reason she had chosen Taehyung and left him behind.
So if anyone deserved to feel guilty, it was you.
Later that year, on a night you were out, he opened the cabinet and took out two plates without thinking. He stared at them for a few seconds before putting one back.
You stopped setting a place for him months ago, but he watched you do it so many times during the first year that the habit had somehow stayed with him. He stood there longer than he needed to, wondering why he reached for two plates when he knew you were not coming home.
For years, Suji had been the person Jungkook believed he wanted. His friends still mentioned her like she was some great love he lost, and he let himself believe that was true because it gave him a reason to stay angry.
But whenever Jungkook tried to remember her, his mind kept going somewhere else. He remembered sitting at your family’s kitchen table, helping you finish a puzzle because no one else wanted to. Jungkook remembered finding you behind the curtain during hide-and-seek, and he remembered how easily you used to laugh around him.
Jungkook has not heard your laugh in a long time and that bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
One night, while you were out celebrating a friend’s birthday, he sat alone in the living room with a drink in his hand. He remembered you mentioning the party, though he couldn’t remember whether you told him directly or if he saw the birthday card on the counter.
Jungkook looked around the apartment and thought that you were probably happier when he was not there.
And Jungkook did not like that thought. He did not like knowing that you could leave the apartment and become a completely different person around everyone else; someone happier.
He poured his drink into the sink and went to bed early.
Jungkook told himself what he was feeling towards you was guilt that would pass if he ignored it long enough.
It did not.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
third year of marriage
By the third year of marriage, you stopped hoping at all.
Whatever hope you carried into the marriage was nowhere to be found. You could not remember the exact moment it happened, you only knew that one day, you stopped expecting anything from Jungkook.
The two of you have been living separate lives under the same roof.
You paid for half of everything, the groceries, bills, and all the other small expenses neither of you ever discussed.
You have also gotten even better at lying during family gatherings; “he’s travelling,” “he’s busy,” or “the company is going through an important season.” You said the same excuses so often that the lies came out without any effort nowadays, even Suji stopped asking you questions about Jungkook.
“You know you don’t have to keep covering for him,” Suji said quietly at your mother’s birthday after you finished explaining Jungkook’s empty chair for the hundredth time, “we’re not going to think less of you if you tell us the truth.”
“I know,” you said.
You just didn’t have the energy to say it out loud. Once you told them, they would worry, they would ask what you planned to do, they would want you to leave him, and then you would have to explain why you even stayed for so long.
Some nights, you sat alone in the apartment and thought about how long it has been. Three whole years; you have spent three years living with someone who barely knew you.
You counted everything during the first year, but eventually, you stopped doing so. The amount of things Jungkook has done for you has become too embarrassing. There was no point keeping track of shared meals when there were barely any to count.
You feel like a different person now, sometimes, you almost feel sorry for yourself.
You waited so long for your knight to choose you, never knowing that when he finally did, it would be the very thing that broke you apart.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Sometime during the third year of the marriage, Jungkook finally began to understand something he spent most of his life getting wrong.
It has never really been Suji.
For years, he has been so sure she was the one he wanted. Suji was beautiful, confident, and always at the centre of everything. Everyone liked her, so wanting her had always made sense to Jungkook, especially when everyone around him seemed to expect it.
But when Jungkook thought back to the years he spent at your family's house as a kid, the memories that stayed with him were never really about Suji.
It was you sitting beside him at the kitchen table, asking for help with a puzzle even though you were too shy to look directly at him. It was you hiding behind the curtain during hide-and-seek and him trying not to laugh when he found you. It was the way you used to save him a seat at lunch, the way you followed him around when you were younger, the way your face lit up whenever he paid attention to you, as if he'd done something far kinder than he actually did.
Somehow, Jungkook took all of those memories and put Suji's name all over them instead. Maybe it was because Suji was his age, and she fit so easily into the rest of his life. You have only ever been Suji's little sister, or at least that was what he always told himself. And the truth came to him slowly, then all at once.
It would have been easier if Jungkook could have kept blaming you.
Jungkook was sixteen when he finally found the courage to tell Suji how he felt, he was certain she felt the same way, only for her to turn him down. Suji told him she liked Taehyung, not him. Then she told him that even if she felt differently, she could never be with him. She told him that she couldn't bear the thought of you finding out that the boy you adored since you were ten had fallen for your own sister instead.
That was the day Jungkook decided you were the reason he lost Suji. He never could decide who he was angrier at; you for telling her first or Suji for choosing you over him.
And Jungkook found it easier to be angry at you.
He told himself for years that marrying you was a way of taking back what he lost, except somewhere in the second year of your marriage, the plan stopped feeling like justice and started feeling like something he will regret his whole life.
Because somewhere in that same year, without meaning to, Jungkook started noticing you.
He noticed that he memorised the sound of your keys in the door. He noticed he wasn't surprised your mug was blue, because he remembered you telling him back when you were still a kid that blue was your favourite colour.
Jungkook started noticing the shows you watched in the living room that he could hear from his room, the nights you came home late and laughed quietly on the phone before disappearing into your bedroom, and the way the apartment felt different when you were gone.
He noticed you took your coffee black in the mornings but liked your tea with milk at night. Jungkook noticed the light under your door usually went out around midnight, and on the nights it didn't, he found himself lying awake wondering what was keeping you up.
Jungkook noticed how you would go still for a second before answering your mother's calls, then soften your voice the moment you picked up. He noticed you still bit the inside of your cheek when you were concentrating, exactly the way you did at ten years old.
He spent years insisting he had no interest in getting to know you, and somewhere along the way, he memorised you completely.
He even started coming home earlier on the nights he knew you would be there; early enough that he could hear you moving around in the kitchen, or catch a glimpse of you before you went to bed.
Jungkook remembered that night in Jeju more clearly than he wanted to. He watched you leave the table after his friends made fun of your bracelet, and for a second, he almost went after you. Yet he did nothing instead and later at the bar, he told someone that Suji would have made more sense for him. It was just easy to say because he has been telling himself the same thing for years.
It was easier to believe he lost Suji than to admit he was ruining whatever chance he had with you.
The night he finally realised it, he tried to think about Suji, tried to search for whatever he spent years insisting was still there and there was nothing. Whatever he felt for Suji disappeared a long time ago. Jungkook only kept holding onto it because it felt familiar, because blaming you was easier than admitting he was the one in the wrong.
He knew more about you than he ever bothered to learn about Suji, and that was when he finally understood that all along, the person he has been thinking about was you.
Somewhere in the middle of an arranged marriage he agreed to as a revenge, Jungkook had fallen for the person he was punishing, and he only realised it after you had already stopped caring whether he came home.
The only question left was whether Jungkook had realised he witnessed your devotion too late.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You didn’t come home that night, instead you called your sister for an emergency meeting at your mom’s place, "Come by mom’s house tonight," you pleaded, "please."
Suji and Taehyung were already there when you arrived.
You sat down at the kitchen table where you grew up doing homework, "I need to tell you guys something," you said.
So you told them about how he treated you, you told them the reason behind the empty chair at every holiday, and every single thing that happened during your marriage.
The moment you stopped talking, your mother went to her knees in the middle of the kitchen. You have never, in twenty-six years, seen your mother on her knees for anything, not even at your father's funeral where she stood so straight and so still you worried she had forgotten how to bend her knees
"I did this to you," your mother cried out, and she was frantic in a way you have never once witnessed, her hands were shaking as she reached for yours, "I owe them the money, not you. I sold you to fix my own mistake and I have watched you smile through three years of a marriage that's been eating you alive and I told myself it was fine because you never once complained, because you're so good at never complaining, and I am so sorry, I am so sorry, please forgive me."
You dropped to your knees and held her, and you cried the way you haven’t let yourself cry in years. You cried until your throat was hurting, until Suji came around the table and wrapped her arms around both of you, until Taehyung stood a few feet away with his jaw tight and his hands curled into fists.
"It's okay," you said, when you could speak again,"I'll always help you, Mom. I mean that, I’ll help you pay that debt. But this time, I want a divorce."
Suji was already standing next to you, and the look on her face was one you'd never seen there before, "I am going to kill him," she said, “I’m sorry, ____. I never.. I should have known. I should have asked you harder. I should have protected you."
"Don't," you said, “please. I don't want any of you doing anything. I don't want him in my life anymore, and I don't want to spend one more minute of my energy on him. I just want it to be over. I want to be done."
They didn't like it.
You could see in all of their faces that it was hurting them not to do anything in your stead. But they loved you enough to hear you out.
For the first time in three years you slept in your childhood bedroom, and that night, you slept better than you have in a long, long time.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
At first, Jungkook didn’t think much of it when you weren’t home. You went out sometimes. Three years of marriage taught him your routine; Tuesdays with your girlfriends; the occasional weekend at your mother’s.
Jungkook came home the first night to an empty apartment, ordered food, and ate it standing at the kitchen counter. Your disappearance didn’t seem unusual enough for him to question it.
By the second day, the apartment felt different and he couldn’t immediately work out why. The coffee maker hadn’t been used, there was no bitter smell in the kitchen when he walked in that morning and the mug you always used for tea was still sitting where he left it two days ago.
Jungkook looked at it for longer than he should have, then he checked the entryway for your shoes and they weren’t there. An hour later, Jungkook checked again, and still you weren’t back home.
By the third day, he texted you.
Jungkook: You okay?
No message came back. He stared at the screen until it dimmed in his hand again, and when Jungkook unlocked it, there was still nothing.
By the fourth day, the uneasiness became too loud for him to ignore. It followed him into the shower, the car, and the office. Jungkook sat through meetings without taking in a word. Jungkook asked his assistant to repeat what they just said three times, and afterwards Jungkook still couldn’t remember what they were even discussing.
Jungkook called you once in the afternoon, then again on the drive home, but both calls went to voicemail.
Jungkook wasn’t used to this.
Jungkook is used to handling problems, hell, he has built companies and sat across from men twice his age and made them agree to terms they had sworn they would never accept. Jungkook knew how to remain calm when everyone else in the room was losing their mind.
But that night, at two in the morning, Jungkook lay awake thinking about one unanswered text, thinking about where you were, if you were eating well, if you were sleeping soundly, if you will ever come back home to him.
When did he become like this?
By the fifth day, Jungkook drove past your mother’s street twice.
The first time, he told himself he had taken the wrong turn. The second time, he slowed down near your house and looked for a light in the windows. Jungkook wanted proof that you were there, that you were somewhere and you didn’t simply disappear beyond his reach.
Jungkook hated how badly he needed you. He opened your contact on his phone again and again but never pressed call, his thumb only hovered over your name until the screen went dark again.
The past three years of marriage have been made up of small things he never should have done. The meals you prepared that he barely touched, the questions he answered without looking at you, the evenings when you sat beside him and eventually stopped trying to start a conversation.
You tried to make a life with him, yet Jungkook treated every attempt as an inconvenience.
For years, he told himself that he was the victim, that Suji was the person he should have been married to. But when Jungkook forced himself to remember exactly why he liked Suji, he felt nothing.
What Jungkook remembered was always you and everything the two of you had done together. He remembered a girl half his size sitting across from him, looking up at him like he was her world. He remembered playing hide-and-seek with you and he remembered pretending not to see you.
Jungkook always said Suji was the person he was the happiest with, but all the memories that felt warm to him, belonged to you.
Admitting the truth would have meant admitting that Jungkook spent years hurting the wrong person. And tonight, Jungkook sat alone in the living room and finally clearly admitted the one he always wanted was you.
Jungkook didn’t want a divorce and he did not want you to leave him.
When he imagined the apartment being empty of your things, Jungkook’s chest started hurting. When he imagined another man hearing you laugh, learning what food you liked, being invited to your mother’s house, he felt something pressing against his chest that it was hard for him to breathe.
Jungkook wanted you to remain his wife and the thought made him feel ashamed of all the things he had done to you the past three years.
“My wife,” Jungkook said to his empty apartment.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Jungkook tried to call Suji, but she didn’t answer. So, the next morning, he called Taehyung and to his surprise, Taehyung answered on the second ring.
“Stay away from my family,” was all Taehyung said when he picked up.
“I knew you had feelings for my wife,” Taehyung continued, “I have known for years, I knew since we were children, Jungkook. I didn’t say anything because I thought you would get over it. I thought it was some pathetic thing from when we were younger that would eventually die out.”
“Taehyung,” Jungkook tried to cut him off, but Taehyung wouldn’t let him.
“No. You don’t get to say shit. It’s been years,” Taehyung said, “and while you were busy feeling sorry for yourself, you destroyed her sister. Three years, Jungkook. She carried your marriage alone for three years and still smiled through every family dinner because she didn’t want anyone worrying about her. We recently found out it was an arranged marriage, fine, you didn’t have to love her, but you could have treated her decently.”
“You knew she didn’t deserve it,” Taehyung continued, “that’s the part I can’t understand. You knew exactly who she was, and you still treated her like she was responsible for everything you hated about your life.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t,” Taehyung let out a short and bitter laugh, “But I hope you do now. I hope you finally understand what you’ve done, and I hope you feel every second of it.”
Then the call ended.
Jungkook spent years blaming you for a decision neither of you had made. Every humiliation, disappointment, and every bit of grief he carried since he was seventeen, he somehow found a way to make it yours.
It was easier than looking at you, who stayed beside him and asked for so little, and realising he had still given you even less than that.
Now you were gone and there was no one left for him to blame but himself.
Jungkook was not the man he always imagined himself to be. He was pathetic, petty, cowardly, and far smaller than the woman he spent three years treating like nobody.
Jungkook has been nothing but a pathetic, petty and frightened boy wearing a man’s face.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
The next day, Jungkook went to your mother's house.
She opened the door and just looked at Jungkook with disappointment across her face. It was the same look she gave him when he didn’t kiss you at the altar.
"I'm not here to see her," Jungkook quickly said, before your mom could close the door, "I know she doesn't want to see me yet. I'm here because I need to say something to you, and I need you to hear me out."
She didn’t say anything, yet she opened the door wide enough to let him in. Unlike the other guests who have visited her home, your mother did not offer Jungkook tea. There was no need to treat him like an acquaintance, soon Jungkook will be her ex son-in-law and someone whom she’ll never ever meet in her life again.
She sat him at the same kitchen table where you cried just a few nights before.
"I owe your family a lot of money," she said, folding her hands in front of her, "I understand that. I understand this was an arranged marriage none of you asked for or wanted, and that you were as much a pawn in it as my daughter was.”
She drew in a small breath before continuing, “What I do not understand, Jungkook, is how you could treat another human being, my daughter, the kindest person I have ever raised and the one who never once in her life made anyone feel small… How could you have treated her the way you have done the past three years? I am in as much pain watching what this did to her as she is living it, maybe even more, because I was the one who put her in this situation with you in the first place. So tell me, why should I forgive you? Why should I let you anywhere near her again? What exactly do you intend to do?"
Jungkook has never been shaken by anything in his life, not until tonight, sitting in front of your mother.
"I don't have a clear answer," he said, "I wish I did. I spent years being angry at _____ for something that was never even her fault, something I won't even go into right now, because it's mine to explain to her first. And then I spent three more years married to her and still treating her like she was the one who wronged me. I'm not asking you to forgive me."
Jungkook looked at her, and he looked so broken your mother couldn’t help pitying him, "I'm asking for the chance to keep showing up until it means something to her. I'll beg for her forgiveness, I'll keep coming back even when she tells me not to, even when she has every right to slam the door in my face. But we'll talk, we'll argue, we'll probably fight, more than once, because I don't think she's going to make this easy for me, and she shouldn't and I wouldn’t want her to. I just know I can't bring myself to just let this end without actually trying for the first time in this whole marriage. I want to be someone worth her time. Without knowing it, I realised that the small things she has done throughout our marriage was never small at all. She loved me despite the ugly things I have done. I was just too busy being furious at my past to notice I was standing next to the person I actually wanted."
Your mother stared at him for a long moment, long enough that Jungkook thought she might ask him to leave without another word.
Her marriage to your father hadn’t always been easy. There were years of arguments over parenting, finance, and many more. There were years where she wondered if she married too young.
But when he died, something in her broke apart and it never quite put itself back together.
She remembered how you used to climb into their bed on Sunday mornings, how your father would let you win at cards, how you cried at his funeral so quietly like you were trying not to take up too much space even in your own grief.
you see, your mother knew about your crush on Jungkook. She watched you for sixteen years, she saw the way your face changed whenever Jungkook's name came up at the dinner table, and pretended not to notice the way you used to volunteer to answer the door whenever Suji’s group of friends came around, just in case it was Jungkook. She knew, long before you ever confessed to it, that you had loved him since you were a child.
And when she told you about the arranged marriage, some small, guilty part of her had let herself believe that maybe this could help. Maybe if she was going to ruin your life with her mistake, it could at least be with the one person you had always wanted to have a relationship with.
She was wrong.
She watched that hope change into something else these past three years, watching you get smaller in ways you thought she hadn't noticed, watching you repeating lies about a man who could not even be bothered to accompany you for your own father’s death anniversaries.
She was, is, a bad mother for that.
But she also knew you. She knew that if she asked you right now, whether some part of you still wanted to know if he was willing to try, you wouldn’t say no.
"Sit up straight," she finally said, and Jungkook blinked at her, caught off guard.
"I'm sorry?"
"You heard me," your mother’s voice was firm and steady, "If you're going to sit in my kitchen and tell me you intend to fight for my daughter, you're not going to do it slouched over like a boy waiting to be punished. Fighting for her means showing up like you mean it, every time, starting now."
Jungkook immediately straightened his posture.
"I'm not telling you this because I forgive you," she continued, "I will not forgive you for a long time, and that will be my right to decide, just as it will be hers."
She took a deep breath, before continuing, "But I have spent three years watching my daughter lie to the people who love her because she didn't want anyone to know how badly you have hurt her. If you're serious, then you do not need to convince me. You show her, you keep showing it to her, and you need to accept that she may never let you back in, and you don't get to be angry about it, not after all the years you've taken from her already."
"She was ten years old the first time she talked to me about you," she said quietly, "I used to think it was sweet. I didn't know I was watching the beginning of something that would be a long time pain for her. So if she gives you a second chance, you do not waste whatever time she gives you, Jungkook. She has given enough of it away for free, do you understand me?"
"I understand," he said.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You came home from a work trip three days later and found Jungkook sitting at your family home’s dining table, his laptop open and a stack of papers beside him like it was any other weekday.
He was sitting there as if it wasn’t your first time seeing him since you walked out of the home you shared with him.
"What the fuck are you doing here?” you sneered.
Your keys were clenched in your hand, and your entire body went rigid at the sight of him sitting in a chair at your family home.
"I'm here to date you," he said, slowly looking up at you.
You stared at him in disbelief, "You are here to what?"
“Date you,” Jungkook said as he closed his laptop, “I want to date you properly this time.”
For a second, all you could do was look at him.
"I know what I did,” Jungkook continued, “I know what three years of this marriage to me did to you. I'm not asking you to forget it. I just.. I want the chance to earn what I should’ve earned before we ever got married.”
You let out a dry and humourless laugh, before asking, “What the fuck?!”
You dropped your keys onto the counter, and they hit harder than you intended it to be, “You think you can just show up here and ask to start over?”
“No matter what you do, my heart is not going to change, Jungkook. I'm not a child anymore. I know better than to give you a second chance, hell, I gave you a hundred chances over the last three years and you didn't take a single one.”
“You are beneath me now,” you said quietly, “do you understand that?”
“Then give me one last chance,” Jungkook said, almost pleading.
“Let me court you,” he continued, “let me date you the way I should have the past three years.”
You didn’t answer.
You just walked past him and went to get changed.
You were meeting your friends that night, and had no intention of spending another minute in that kitchen listening to Jungkook act like he could fix three years with a few words.
He stayed where he was while you moved around the house, but you could feel his eyes on you. It shouldn’t have felt unfamiliar, he was your husband. Still, you couldn’t remember the last time he actually noticed you.
but you hated that your body enjoyed the feeling of being noticed by him, hated that some part of you still wanted to be seen by him.
"Can I come?" he asked, from the living room, he sounded quieter than you have ever heard him speak, “I would love to get to know your friends.”
You scoffed out loud in response and left without answering him.
When the door shut behind you, something in your body felt at ease because for the first time in years, your life felt like it belonged entirely to you again.
Description: You have it all. The career, the lifestyle, and the friends. But one thing is missing. Your new secretary. And nothing can stop you from getting what you want. Not even that fact that he’s married.
Pairing(s): Secretary!Jeon Jungkook x CEO Fem!Reader
Genre(s): yandere, workplace romance, office au
Warning(s): infidelity, yandere themes, obsessive jungkook, sort of obsessive reader, manipulation, sexually explicit content: protected sex, degradation , dom jk
WC:12k
Author Note: My first fanfic! I am thinking of making a master list of Lana inspired fics. I originally posted this in December 2024 but deleted it when it gained no traction. I’m reposting it in hopes people read it. Please leave a comment if you enjoyed this!
Song-Sad Girl by Lana Del Rey
You never settled for less.
This statement echoed in every corner and aspect of your life. Your work, your friends, your family, and especially your relationships. You expected everything and everyone to live up to your very high standards, including yourself. This made it very hard for you to maintain much social interaction.
However, if made you extremely successful. Your hard work allowed you to experience a point of wealth and success that many others your age could never dream of. You worked hard your entire high school career, making it into your dream college and launching your phone company, XG tech, which was a huge success. You were making seven figures by the time you were 23.
It was hard, of course. You rarely spoke to those close to you. But it’s paid off, not in just being wealthy but that feeling that you’ve made it. You find just as much happiness in a Chanel bag as you do looking up at your skyscraper headquarters in Seoul, one of your many buildings scattered across the country.
Your driver opens the door for you, and you smile, thanking him as you step out and quickly inside the revolving doors. A group of five immediately surrounds you. It includes your manager, personal assistant, and three other people who work under you, Your personal assistant, Jimin, glued to your side, hands you your morning coffee.
“Good morning, Miss ___.” He says. You wave at the receptionist and step into the elevator, Jimin pressing the top floor. The elevator begins to whir, whisking you up into the depths of the building.
“Morning. What’s my schedule for today?” You ask, taking off your sunglasses and placing them in your bag. Jimin clears his throat, fixing his huge square glasses and reading off of his clipboard that never left his hand.
“At 9, you have a meeting with the executives to address the issue about the rival company. Then, at 11 you’re meeting with the advertising team to discuss the possibility of bringing in some temps from America to give a global perspective to your market. Then at 1 you’re meeting your new secretary. Thats about it, pretty easy day,” He recites to you. You cock a brow, and turn to your manager, Namjoon. For most even yourself at times It’s hard to tell the difference between all your personal workers. The difference is that Jimin runs the errands for you, like getting food and cleaning, while Namjoon makes your schedule. The other three are secretaries, although they mostly just handle your publicity. He smiles.
“New secretary? I thought I told you that I didn’t need one.”
“I know, but you’ve been so clogged up with silly work that’s meant for a secretary. I know you already have a few, but I assigned him to be your main one and be in closer proximity to your actual work, to help lift some weight off your shoulders. You have been tense lately, ___.” He rubs your back, but you quickly push him off.
“Whatever, as long as he’s qualified.” You spew as the elevator dings open to your floor. It reveals a long hallway that’s decorated with paintings, statues and proof of your success in forms of awards and such. Some doors are stamped along the way, where your underlings worked. You open the large double doors to reveal your office.
It was your pride and joy, honestly. All the walls were made of windows, allowing you to gaze upon the city. On both sides were bookshelves filled with your favorite reads. You even have your own mini bathroom and kitchenette, along with your huge desk that simply screams power and success. You place your bag on your desk, powering on your computer.
“Would you like me to set up the meeting room, ma’am?” Jimin asks. You sigh, rolling your eyes. You hate meetings with the executives. Even though they work for you, they always act like you’re some stupid little girl. Assholes.
“Yes,” You answer solemnly. Jimin taps on the face microphone.
“I need people in the meeting room stat,” He murmurs as he stalks out of the room, everyone except Namjoon following him. He sits on one of the chairs that are in front of your desk, pulling up the sleeves to his polo.
“Listen, ___, are you okay? I wasn’t lying when I said you’ve been stressed,” He tells you, his eyebrows furrowing. Your roll your eyes, opening your email. He does this every single day. You’ve known him since you started your company, you’d think that he’d realize this is how you are.
“I’m fine, I promise. Jennie is forcing me to go out tonight, if that makes you feel better,” You reminisce on the borderline threat your best friend had made last night. Namjoon smiles, tapping the desk and getting up.
“Good. You need to loosen up,” And with that, he leaves.
“___, your secretary should be on his way up now,” Jimin tells you through the pager on your desk. You reply back a quick ‘thank you’ and straighten up your desk a bit. Although you didn’t do much today, it felt like a lot. The meetings with the executives was as boring as usual, complaining about your rival company and how they want to release rumors or something to shut them down. You tell them the same thing every time, you will play the fair game and let your product talk for itself. Then, the marketing team talked you into letting some English folks on team to provide a new perspective for the global audience. Long story short, it’s been a day.
Not only do you hate meeting new people, you hate adding people onto your team (the CEO team, of course) because you prefer a tight knit team. Jimin as your PA, Namjoon as your manager, and Hoseok, Jin, and Yoongi as other various secretaries and workers. That’s all you need, honestly. And you love having work to keep you busy. Namjoon came down during your lunch break again to make you more open to the idea, going on and on about how free you’d be, but it just made you feel worse. You love your work, it’s your passion. But you’re only agreeing to it because you know it’d make him happy.
You check yourself in the mirror. You’re wearing your typical outfit: your hair in a tight bun with miscellaneous pens and pencils sticking out, a blouse tucked into your pencil skirt, stockings and your red bottom heels. You don’t know why you feel so nervous, but you do. Jimin pages in to let you know that he’s on the floor.
The door opens up, and he steps in. Honestly, you’re surprised. In what way- you can’t tell yet. He’s a taller man, with fluffy jet black hair that reached his nape, and big dark eyes that contrasted to his pale complexion. He’s quite handsome, and he looks to be only around 5 years older than you. You were expecting someone older and kind of uptight, but as he walks in, he has kind of a playful vibe about him. His gaze catches yours, and his lips immediately form into a big smile. He bows deeply, and you reciprocate with a small dip of your head. He strides up to your desk, where you can get a better look at him. He’s wearing the typical office attire, a polo with work pants and shoes. His ears and lip sports small holes, proof of piercings he likely took out. He reaches out to shake your hand, which you take. You notice small hand tattoos, which you don’t observe further.
“Hello, my name is Jeon Jungkook. I am going to be your new secretary,” He says, bowing again. You smile, repeating the same phrase in your head: Be nice!
“You can speak more casually with me, Jungkook. I’m pleased to meet you. What brings you to this job?” You ask. You practically cheer in your head at how nice and professional that was. Jungkook smiles even wider, sitting in one of the chairs by your desk.
“Well, honestly, I love your products. I bought my own XG last year, and I love it. It uses new technology so it never needs to be charged and only runs off of solar power, running through a system of complex pieces that allows that energy to maintain itself for weeks without sunlight, which is just an amazing way to use clean energy. Plus, your whole brand is all about conserving the environment and- sorry, I’m explaining your company to you!” He rambles. You giggle. Giggle? You never giggle. Why do you feel so giddy around this guy?
“That’s alright,” You reassure him. He chuckles awkwardly.
“Sorry, I’m kind of a big fan. I’ve been studying business since I was in high school, and I find your ethics fantastic. I quit my old job since it wasn’t what I was looking for and applied here. I was so surprised when I found out that I would be a secretary- under the CEO, nonetheless! I’m so excited to work with you!” He adds. You smile again.
“I’m happy to have you here.” You say, suddenly feeling sort of awkward.
“So, what can I start with?” He claps, looking around. You clear your throat, peering at your computer. Your thousands of emails always make you anxious, so it’d be nice to clear it out. You just never find times for stupid tasks like those.
“Uh, if you wouldn’t mind, you could clean out my emails? Separate them through important and junk, and I’ll go through them tomorrow? If I have time?” You ask. He immediately smiles and jumps up, opening the satchel he has around his torso and pulling out a laptop.
“Of course, Miss ___. Right on it!” He says, opening the laptop right away. He leaves the room, to what you assume is his office. There was one empty one right next to yours, so it makes sense he would get that one. You giggle to yourself. He may be more fun than you had initially imagined.
You open Facebook, searching up “Jeon Jungkook” in the search bar. You don’t usually use your work computer for personal things like this, but you could just argue that you wanted to know more about your new secretary. You hadn’t seen him the entire day, and you were busy with miscellaneous tasks. He did end up clearing out your emails, going from 4,000 unread to only 400. He also printed out some documents, a task you had been putting off, handing it to you warm and held together with a paperclip. He left soon after that, having already stayed 30 minutes past the end of his work day, and and you regret not asking more about him. He tickled your curiosity, for some reason.
You immediately found his profile, and upon clicking on it, it looks pretty normal. His profile picture is of him with sunglasses throwing up a peace sign, and the cover photo is a beautiful mountain landscape framed by a sunset. His bio reads, “Here for a good time.” He’s 35, which is crazy to you since he looks your age, yet a decade of time separates you two. You scroll down further, your eyes skimming past the other information until it lands on relationship status…
Married. Shit.
You don’t know why your heart sinks when you read this. You really don’t. You had completely forgotten that one of your company rules is that you only hire people who are engaged or married to discourage workplace romances. How could you forget about a rule you instated yourself? You sigh, and keep scrolling, still a bit curious. He doesn’t post often, just one here and there mostly about a dish he made or a place he went. The only picture you could find of his wife was their engagement photo. You still couldn’t get a good look at her since it was taken from the sign. Luckily, he tagged her, so you tap on her account.
Jeon Soyeon. She’s 32, around the same age as her husband. She works as a teacher at a local NYC private school, She’s pretty, but has an assertive vibe around her. You feel a pit form in your stomach. You’re richer and younger than she is, yet you still feel jealous. You feel disgusted with yourself. Forming a crush on your married and much older secretary was the last thing you needed right now.
“Whatchya doin’?” A singsong voice calls from in front of you. You yelp, immediately closing the tab and facing in front of you. It is, of course, your best friend, Jennie. You roll your eyes. You don’t want to question how she got in here; you’ve told Jimin several times to keep her out of the building. She tends to be a distraction to you, which you obviously don’t need. She still finds ways to weasel herself in. She is your only friend outside of the workplace, which you don’t know how. Your typically cold demeanor tends to turn off most people. You’ve concluded that she’s too dense to take most things to heart.
“Hey, you promised to go out with me tonight! It is almost 6, and way past your shift. C’mon, I found the cutest dress for you!” She squeals. You roll your eyes for what feels like the hundredth time.
“Okay, fine. And remember, I’m only doing this because you promised to not talk to me next weekend at all.” She laughs as she pulls you out of your seat.
“Uh huh, sure.”
“Are you sure this club is okay?” You ask, peering out the window at the passing buildings, the lights looking like stars against the night sky. You felt yourself getting nervous. Not the whole club aspect, but about if anyone spots you. You never ran this by your publicists, so you don’t want to be spotted at some messy club. Part of your “marketing” is supposed to be “relatable young girl”, and you’re regularly sent o it to do things like this, but you rarely do it without your marketing team saying so. You’re scared that some paparazzi would find you there, but Jennie assured you that it’s a private club that the elite hang out in. She would definitely know, she’s, like, the biggest nepo baby. Her family has generational oil money, so she doesn’t have a job (except partying and bother you). You met her at a “rich people” ball you were forced to go to, and she’s been attached to your hip since. Oh, and her goal in life is to marry a rich guy and become a “trad wife”. Whatever the hell that means.
The car stops, so you thank the driver and step outside. You face a typical New York City building, the only difference being a lit up sign and colorful lights that point to the inside. There’s a line of people that stretches down the street while the bouncers carefully check IDs and let them in. Jennie steps out after you. You’re wearing similar outfit, both in skin tight sparkly dresses and high heels.
The bouncer recognizes you immediately and allows you two inside. You’re introduced to a large room, with a big bar on one side and plenty of leather chairs. Loud music thrums across the floor by a DJ, and the center of the room has a large dance floor that is filled with people. You look over at Jennie’s face, and she look estatic. This is definitely her scene.
She immediately starts conversing with a group of young people, other nepo babies she probably realized. You say something about getting a drink, which you’ll definitely need to get through this night, and she doesn’t acknowledge you so you decide she’s fine with it. You practically push your way to the bar, sitting at one of the leather seats.
The bartender makes his way over to you, and you order your drink. He starts to fill is up before gasping.
“You’re ___, right? I have an XG, I love it so much!” He holds up the sleek phone design you recognize as your own. You give him the awkward smile you always do when someone tells you this. You never know how to respond. After a minute, he slides the drink over to you. You take a sip, that fuzzy feeling spreading across your chest as the bartender sneaks a picture of you. Whatever, if he posts that it’s a problem for future you.
You drink faster, aching for that feeling of all your thoughts going away. Of course, Jungkook pops up in your head again. You’ve been thinking about him since you met him, even though it was only a couple hours ago. You couldn’t believe that someone who worked for you and was married was consuming your mind. You never usually develope crushes. You’ve only had one or two relationships and a few one night stands, but you never got this giddy feeling that you’ve had with Jungkook. It’s weird, and you don’t like it, so you keep sipping to try and get him out of your heard.
“___? Crazy running into you here.” Uh, what? You’re trying to get him out of your head, yet you could’ve sworn that you just heard him say your name. You must be going crazy-
You turn your head. Holy shit, it’s Jungkook! You seriously thought it was a hallucination- but there he is, in the flesh. His ears are filled with piercings, with one on his lip. He’s wearing a short sleeved shirt, so it surprises you that he has tattoos that travel all the way up to his shoulders. You don’t know why, but the “bad boy” look that he has going on turns you on way more than that professional look he had earlier on today. You have to keep yourself from biting your lip. Suddenly, your logical side kicks in as you analyze the situation. Okay, Jeon Jungkook, the married 35 year old man, is sitting in a club next to you. And, also, maybe you’re delusional, but you swear he scans your body.
“Jungkook! Oh, um, I kinda promised my friend I would come here with her but she ditched me,” You pout, taking another sip of your drink. He chuckles, watching you carefully.
“That’s mean of Jennie, huh? Leaving you all alone like this?” He says, in a low voice that’s almost sultry. You giggle. What the hell is with all this giggling lately?!
“I mean, sure, but what about you leaving your wife and coming to a club like this?” You quip. Jungkook smirks, his gaze settling onto yours.
“How did you know I had a wife?” He questions.
“How did you know my friend’s name?” You shoot back. You stare at each other for a few tense seconds until both break out into a light hearted laughter.
“Touché. So, tell me, did I do a good job as your secretary, Miss ___?” Your name slips in a way that makes your squeeze your legs together. Okay, now you’re officially confused. He is married, without a doubt, yet he’s obviously flirting with you. What’s his goal? Maybe they’re going through a rough spot? Maybe they’re split up? Maybe she cheated? All of these thoughts cause you to accidentally ignore Jungkook.
“I’ll take that as a no?” He says playfully. You take another sip of your drink, his stare hanging onto every thing you do.
“Oh, uh, no. I mean, yes, you did! Very good. Very- yes, great…” You stutter. Okay, what is happening? You’re usually so good with your words, yet your face is heating up like a school girl talking to her crush. Jungkook seems to notice this, causing his smirk to widen even further.
“You’re quite the speaker, aren’t you, Miss ___?” His words slip out smoothly. This can’t be the same nervous, awkward, bubbly man you met this morning, can it?
“You can just call me ___, alright?” You say, staring straight ahead at the racks of bottles in front of you. You need to gather your senses.
“I dunno, I like the ‘miss’,” He says lowly, staring at you intensely. You slam your hand against the table, whipping your head around to face him.
“Okay, what’s your problem here? You’re married, and you’re at this club obviously flirting with me? What are you trying to achieve here, Jungkook?” You accuse, gripping your cup. His smug look melts off of his face, his eyes falling to the ground.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve cleared things up with you. My wife and I are separated right now, so I’m just looking to find someone fun and you seem to be the one I’m looking for. I don’t know what I’m thinking trying to pursue you, I guess I’ve always thought you were pretty and I tried applying but I truly never guessed in a million years I would be accepted. Let alone be your secretary, so I just got too excited and I apologize-“ He rambles, but you cut him off with a quick peck on the lips. You smile coyly as your method of shutting him up works.
“You talk too much,” You whisper, both of you being mere inches away from each other.
“But I think it’s cute..” You whisper once again. You can feel his breath on yours, and you’re sure he can hear your heartbeat. The tension is so thick and intense that it feels as though the rest of the club pauses, like you two are the only ones that matter. It’s only a few seconds, but it feels like ages.
Finally, you both simultaneously can’t take it anymore. Your lips meet, yet this time it isn’t just a quick peck. Your mouth's fit together like puzzle pieces and it is absolutely mesmerizing, intoxicating, as if you two are just made for each other. The kiss is hungry and aggressive, like you’ve been dying for this for years even though you haven’t even known him for a day. It’s electric, and every single part of you feels alive.
Jungkook’s hand finds itself entangling in your hair, his hand weaving through your strands and pulling your head back to deepen the kiss. He’s standing now, his seat left forgotten. You don’t care how many people could be watching you, you only care about him right now. The way he easily overpowers you, how he smells like cigarettes and cologne, his tattoos, the way his cold piercing rubs up against your lip , everything is so euphoric it's almost like he’s a drug you can take over and over again.
Your heads and lips move in unison with each other , and his other hand rests respectfully on the side of your stomach. You can’t help but crave for him to explore you more, but you’re too busy with how your mouths are now open. His tongue explores yours, and you can’t help but whimper into his mouth. This is absolutely electrifying, you can’t get enough of him. You knock over your drink on the table, but you couldn’t care less. At this point, he is basically on top of you, your bodies pressed against each other on the small bar chair.
However, you’re forced to pull away when you hear your name called from your side. You (sadly) pull away from Jungkook to look to see who is was. Jennie stands next to you, her mouth dropped open. Suddenly, all of your logic and sense floods you. You realize where you are and who you are: a famous businesswoman in the middle of a club, kissing a man who looks like a biker. What were you thinking. You practically push Jungkook away, wiping your lips and fixing your hair. That, by far, was some of the worst judgment you’ve had in a while. He is your secretary. You just made out with your secretary. What are you doing? You quickly pull out a twenty and slap it on the table, running over to Jennie. You turn back to Jungkook, who looks like he’s just experienced whiplash.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at work,” You say with a stoic expression, turning back to Jennie. She’s staring at you like you’re an alien. You usually keep things like this private, never telling her about any of your rare hookups or boyfriends, so this is extremely out of character for you. You grab her hand and push into the crowd before he can even think of going after you. You lead her to the bathroom, pushing open the door and heading over to the mirror. Wow, you look crazy. Your hair is a mess, your dress is asymmetrical and your lipstick is everywhere. You turn on the sink, running your hand under the water and smoothing down your hair.
“Uh, okay, I have only about a million questions. But first, who was that?” She squeals, jumping up and down. You shake your head, sighing.
“That was a huge mistake.” You tell her, using your pinky to fix your lipstick. She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms, staring at you through the mirror.
“C’mon, if you don’t tell me you know I’ll find out eventually,” She threatens. You know she’s not lying. With unlimited resources and time, she can do anything. No point in keeping a secret. You fix your dress and turn to her. Luckily, you picked a one stall bathroom so there’s no one else in here but you two.
“Fine, he’s my secretary. Today was his first day,” She screams at this, and you cringe. Her squeals and screams that she always does are like nails on a chalkboard to you.
“OMG, so scandalous, ___! He is so totally cute, too!” You sigh again.
“Yeah, okay, but there’s three major problems. One, we have a no tolerance rule for workplace romance, two, he’s ten years older than me, and three he’s married.” Jennie drops her purse at the last one.
“Married?! Wait, I take back what I said.”
“I know, he said they’re separated right now,” You explain. Jennie shakes her head, picking up her purse.
“Okay, but separation doesn’t mean divorce. I know he’s cute, but I promise at your level you’ll find way hotter. That’s just some stuff you don’t mess with. And I know that’s crazy coming from me, but trust, okay?” She smiles softly and rubs your arm. You smile back, nodding. She makes sure you’re okay before skipping off, saying something about finding some “meal”. She was right, “married” territory is nothing you should be messing with, especially with a reputation as big as yours. And when someone like Jennie, who’s a complete wild card, tells you you’re going too far, that causes you to have a huge wake up call. You make an internal promise to stay away from your hot secretary. Shouldn’t be too hard, right?
That monday
You take a bite of your croissant, your head resting against the window. There’s a chilly breeze in the air today, and the sky has orange and yellow leaves floating through it like confetti. The Seoul ambience of honks and sirens fills your ears as you push down the window, craving that fresh late October air. You’re dreading going into work today. The thought of facing Jungkook after that disaster on Friday pains you. You looked into firing him and finding a new secretary, or having none at all, but he’d have to at least work one year at the office before he could leave. You were absolutely fucked. You had spent the rest of your weekend in your bed, sulking about your decisions. You can’t believe how immature you had acted.
However, after two full days of berating yourself, you decided to try and fix your mistakes. You went to pilates this morning and picked out a comfortable outfit, opting for a soft sweater and dress pants with kitten heels and your blue Birkin. Your croissant was extra flaky today, done some journaling, and found out that your style was trending on social media. It was a good morning, and you weren’t letting anyone ruin that for you.
Your car stops in front of your building. It looks extra serene today, the glass windows glistening in the early morning glow, almost sparkling. The top kisses the clouds, and it honestly just looks beautiful. You smile, stepping out of the car and sucking a deep breath in. You crack your neck and open the door. You half expected Jungkook to be there, but your usual team of five meets you.
“Good morning, ___,” Jimin greets you as usual. They follow you as you walk into the elevator, the lobby filled with people waiting probably for interviews. They stare at you with awe. You were honestly quite famous, the internet loved the idea of a young woman that was more successful than most grown men. The elevator closes and Jimin starts with his usual rant.
“Okay, so, first things first, your SVP wanted to speak to you about something in his office right away. Then, at 10, you need to talk to the new American temps. At 11 HR wants to talk about upgrading their office. At 1 marketing wants you to film a video for the company tiktok, they’ve written the script and it should be in your email. Then at 3 there’s a zoom meeting with some overseas investors. Jungkook said he can handle the little things so you don’t have to,” You know it sounds like a lot, and most of your daily tasks are things underlings would accomplish, but you personally ask for these things to be run by you since you want to make sure everything’s perfect.
At the mention of your secretary’s name, your heart skips a beat, but you shake your head and ignore it as the elevator opens up to the executive floor. Your 40 story building is very organized, with your floor at the top and the executives beneath you. The rest is split between HR, communications, finances, fundraising, media, marketing, directors, managers, specialists, everyday employees, and more. You love taking on the minimal tasks like something as small as HR upgrading their office, because you see your company as your baby and you want to monitor its growth closely. Although this does create a lot of work for you, it’s what you thrive on.
However, it’s always a chore talking to the executives. Besides the SVP, the other ones were too high and mighty for no reason. The SVP’s name was Taehyung, and he is around your age and is always very interesting to talk to, to say the least. This floor basically just has offices for the executives, mostly filled with PA’s and secretaries running around. They bow to you, and you try to reciprocate as much as you can. You reach Taehyung’s office, his PA paging him and opening the door for you. You smile at her, walking through, having Jimin come with you.
The executive offices are almost as nice as yours, overlooking the city, the only difference being the size. Taehyung is sitting at his messy desk, typing away. Upon seeing you, he jumps up and smiles.
“___! Hi! Please, sit!” He gestures. You listen and sit down, taking off your sunglasses and handing your coat to Jimin.
“What is it?” You ask. Taehyung raises a brow, leaning back in his seat,
“Fiesty today, huh? Okay, fine. Well, I’ve been talking to a few directors, and they wanted me to just bring it up to you even though they’re planning on pitching it to you next week. They think that next next big step for XG is a new piece of tech.” He says, watching carefully for your reaction. You scrunch your brows, crossing your legs and staring at him.
“Tech? Like what?” You question. Taehyung smiles, spinning around in his chair before stopping suddenly and snapping at you.
“I dunno, something new and different. Headphones. Tablets. Computers. Laptops. Just think, it would be life changing. The whole world is gonna want the brand new XG product, I promise! Imagine a nice ass computer that doesn’t need to be plugged in!” He spreads his arms out and gazes off into the distance. You raise a brow.
“And do I have a choice in this?” You ask. Taehyung’s crazy eyes snap back to yours.
“Well, you are the CEO. But you know what I say, if the board of directors want it…” He trails off, waiting for you to finish, but you just stare at him with an empty yet confused expression. He sighs, crossing his arms.
“…then they’ll never quit. Ugh, c’mon, do you even know me?”
“Remind me why you’re not fired yet.”
Finally, you get to have a break. The day was absolutely full. You hardly got breaks in between events. After seeing Taehyung, you headed to the marketing floor to speak to the new temps from France. It proved to be a challenge, forcing you to dig up your old French lessons, but they proved to be very sweet and helpful. Then, you talked to HR and agreed to replace their printer and give them a new espresso machine. After you had your lunch break, which you usually have Jimin grab from a place down the street but you decided you wanted to get out, so you enjoyed a nice salad and drink at a nice little restaurant. Then you called some other CEOs from other buildings across the country. You’re friends with them all, and respect their jobs. Even though you’re the owner, you obviously wanted to be invoked and make yourself a CEO as well. You filled the rest of the day up without meaning to.
Honestly, in the back of your head, you were dreading going to your office because you knew a certain someone was going to be there. However, now you need to go onto your computer to have a zoom meeting with some investors. You don’t know why your heart is thrumming as the elevator ticks closer to your floor. This is ridiculous, you shouldn’t be scared of stepping onto your own damn office.
The doors open, and you step out. This is one of the few times where no one is trailing you, for your secretaries were busy (that includes Jungkook, as far as your knowledge allows), Jimin was already in your office cleaning it up and Namjoon was doing whatever he does during the day. It’s weird, but it feels good to be by yourself sometimes.
You walk down the hallway, your heels echoing against the floors. You find yourself peeking into the offices along the way. You spot Jin speaking on the phone, and Hoseok and Yoongi typing away at their computer. Your breath hitches as you pass Jungkook’s office. Which, is strangely empty. Your steps slow down as you continuously stare inside, looking for him. Where the hell-
“Oh, hi Miss- oh!” You bump into a tall male body in front of you. He falls to the ground, with you following him. He’s pinned to the ground with you on top of him. You rub your head.
“Shit, I’m sorry- oh, Jungkook?” You say, looking down at him. You lock eyes, and for a second, your mind flashes back to Friday night and that absolutely amazing make out session. Your knees are on either side of his leg, and you’re practically straddling him. You need to get these dirty thoughts out of your head. You apologize again as you scramble to get off of him, grabbing your purse and holding out a hand to help him up. He grabs it, his hand being twice the size of yours. He stands there, holding your hand for a few extra seconds before ultimately dropping it.
You both hold each other’s stares as he steps back, and then, to your surprise, he bows quickly and deeply, his arms behind his back and his head practically touching his knees.
“Miss ___, I want to deeply apologize for my actions on Friday. It was extremely poor judgment , and I’m sorry for dragging you into my messy relationship, but I promise to remain professional from now on. Once again, I’m so-“ You lightly touch his back, and his big eyes peer up at you. You bring his shoulders up so he’s facing you directly. You smile softly.
“It’s okay, Jungkook. We all make mistakes, it was my fault too. I’m sorry. Let’s agree to both maintain professional, okay? Give my best to your wife,” You say sweetly. Jungkook laughs, fiddling with his hands awkwardly, obviously relieved.
“Okay, good, thank you. I-i’ll get back to my work now,” He stumbles and falls, laughing as he rushes into his office. You quirk a smile. Okay, perfect. You guys squashed the tension. You suck a deep breath in, feeling a lot better as you turn and walk into your office. You wouldn’t settle for being some workplace mistress anyway.
One month later
Your seasonal depression was hitting you badly.
You always loved pools, warm sand and palm trees, not socks filled with snow and biting chill in the air. Yet, that typical sadness that came with the snow was affecting you more than it usually does. You yearned to leave the city and escape the cold Seoul weather, but you’ve basically been trapped. Your schedule has been filled to the brim since you’re in the middle of making new XG products, specifically wireless headphones. There’s so much work that goes into something like that, so even though you control your own hours, you can hardly even have a weekend to yourself, let alone have a nice vacation to escape the weather in Bora Bora or something. Its awful.
Yet, there’s another reason. You have developed an insatiable, insurmountable, beguiling and absolutely grandeur crush on Jeon Jungkook, and it’s eating you alive. Seeing him every day and being reminded of that electric night in the club, craving his touch and not being able to doing anything about it. Wanting to rip off his clothes and pounce on him but knowing he has a beautiful spouse waiting for him at home. You had tried to satisfy your urges with other men, but it never worked. Every time you closed your eyes you thought of him, yet you couldn’t have him. It didn’t help with the fact that you couldn’t even villainize his wife. She is gorgeous and sweet, she literally dropped by your house and gave you a homemade pecan pie as a thank you for hiring her husband. You wanted to die. You were always a romantic, so you tried to think of a big word to describe your big feelings. You’re melancholy, crestfallen, mornful, despondent, forlorn. No, sometimes, simple is better. Less is more.
Sad. You’re sad.
It’s hard because you have everything you could ever dream of. You can basically buy anything you want, you’re extremely successful, and you could have any guy you want. Yet, none of that matters. All you want is him, and that hurts. His jokes, his smile, his eyes, everything about him fills up your senses and floods with the essence of him. It’s not fair. If only you had met him earlier. You would do anything to switch places with his wife. To be her, feel her husband’s presence around her, the laughs they must share, the memories they’ve made. You would give up everything and become a teacher just to be with him.
You have everything, but it feels like absolutely nothing, coincidentally all at once, everywhere, all the time. You tried to suppress your feelings, convincing yourself that you can’t throw away all your hard work like that even if it’s metaphorically. Still, you can’t help it. Despite inside, you’re still just a little girl that craves love and attention.
The past few weeks were excruciating. You felt like you were selling yourself, wearing tight little outfits and doing your makeup up more just to get his attention. However, it never eluded more than his usual professional demeanor. Then you started to feel stupid, and like a homewrecker. So you gave up, and simultaneously, became more depressed.
And, now, it’s Thanksgiving, and you’re sitting in your office, staring blankly at your screen. You had given the entire office off today, but decided to come in because whenever you’re not doing work you think of him. Your family never usually planned Thanksgiving, so you typically just stayed home, and doing that was not an option. The worst times were when you were alone with your thoughts.
However, now you’re just beating a dead horse. You’ve been here for hours, and have competed all the work that can when you’re by yourself. Now you’re just staring at the email screen, “unread” reading zero as you mindlessly keep refreshing it, waiting for something to finally pop up. Something finally does, and your heart skips a beat. However, you quickly realize it’s some scammy company that wants to “collaborate” with you. You sigh, deleting it and looking away from the screen. You’ve been staring at it for so long that everywhere you look you can see the white pixels and black words. Your fingers are cramped up from typing.
You finally get up and stretch, and this is when you realize it’s dark. The last orange hues of the sunset have disappeared, the sky dark and dots of stars popping up. The only light source in here besides your computer and lamp is the fire in your marble fireplace that crackles softly. You can’t believe you spent the entire day working, on Thanksgiving for God’s sake. You feel stupid as you stretch out. You wander over to the fireplace, pulling your cardigan closer to your body. Since you’re the only one in the office, the heat was shut down so it gets quite cold. Jimin usually sets the fire for you, but you were able to figure it out. You love your office, even though it’s big it has a nice ambience and a soft orange glow surrounding it. Still, that feeling is still gnawing at you. You stare at the fire, watching it eat away the firewood. You’re not sure how long you stay there, but you jump when you hear a knock at your door.
You immediately grab the baseball bat that you hid by the fireplace for occasions just like this and hold it out in front of you.
“Who’s there?” You say skeptically, your fingers gripping the cold metal.
“___? It’s me, Jungkook. I left my jacket in your office and I really need it since I’m going skiing tomorrow. Can I come in?” You hear him call. You breath out, rolling your eyes at your own dramatics and dropping the baseball bat. You quickly take down your hair and your blue light glasses, running your hands through your hair in an attempt to tame it. You didn’t think you’d be running into anyone today, so you’re wearing a simple outfit consisting of a pink cardigan, thermal stockings, a denim skirt and hi-top sneakers. You feel embarrassed that Jungkook will see you like this, but nothing you can do now.
“Yes, of course,” You say, attempting to look busy by grabbing a book by a nearby bookshelf and opening it up to a random page. You hear Jungkook walk in, his boots stomping against the floor. You can practically feel his stare as he walks in, but you pretend to be engrossed in this random piece of literature.
“Good book, huh? What’s it about?” He questions. You quickly glance at the book, only to realize that you were reading it upside down. You roll your eyes and throw the book on your desk, rounding it and sitting down. Jungkook laughs as he walks over to your printer, grabbing a thick black jacket that was laying across it you hadn’t noticed before. He picks it up, playing with the fabric before turning around to look at you.
“___, why are you at the office on Thanksgiving?” He asks. You sigh, knowing that question was coming. You decide to not entertain him.
“I could ask the same for you. You could’ve gotten the jacket tomorrow or something,” You quip, pretending to be busy with random papers on your desk. Jungkook sighs.
“Yeah, but I needed a reason to get out of the house. My wife’s family is over, and they hate me so it’s kind of stuffy. How ‘bout you?” You click open a pen, filling out a form for something completely random.
“Never said I would tell you my reason in return.” You say. Jungkook sighs again. You feel kind of bad, you’ve been pushing him away lately. It’s your way of trying to get over him. After a few moments, he speaks again.
“Listen, I don’t know why you hate me lately, but-“
“You guys still going through a rough patch?” You say, still pretending to be infatuated with your papers.
“Huh?” Jungkook questions. You look up at him, folding your hands together.
“You and your wife. Still going through a rough patch?” You hadn’t meant to say that, but you did. Jungkook holds your gaze as he sits down, his eyes eventually falling to the floor.
“___, I’m sorry. Truly. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, and I guess I could tell you had a little crush on me, but-“
“Really? What gave you the hint?” You spit, looking back down at your papers. However, Jungkook stands up, pushing your desk back. Startled, you look up at him. He looks upset.
“You didn’t let me finish. I’ve been a fan of you for a really long time, you don’t even understand how I admire you.but it’s not just that I admire you. ___, I like you. A lot.” He pauses and takes a breath before continuing.
“My wife Soyeon and I- we don’t get along very well. Our marriage was arranged for us by our parents so we had a rough beginning. Right now though she’s more of a good friend than a spouse. I mean we try, we really do or we did, but it’s so fucking hard. We rarely have sews and when we did it was to try for a baby, that she wanted, mind you and now she’s pregnant. I just wanted to live more and It’s just all happening way too fast especially when we don’t even love each other. How can we give love to someone when we don’t even hold that love for each other?” Jungkook's voice breaks as if he’s holding back tears you try to chime in but he still has more to say.
“To put it simply I crave touch. I crave affection. I crave you, ___. So much. You probably wouldn’t even fathom the effect you have on me. I initially thought this could work but now you just seem so disgusted by the mere thought of me. I mean, you literally ran away from me, so I can’t help but think you hate me. I can’t really blame you, if I was in your situation. I'd despise myself too.” He admits. His eyes are so big and glossy that paired with the words stab your heart, as you stare up at him. You never realized how much he was hurting before now.
“Jungkook, I want you too. But we can’t do this, Jungkook. If word gets out that we were together, I’d be more than screwed,” You tell him. Jungkook leans over your desk, so your faces are inches from each other, his breakdown from only moments ago seemingly long gone. His eyes develop into a different gaze; one of pure hunger.
“So, what you’re telling me is we’ll have to be careful.” And with that, he kisses you. You aren’t ready to give in. You cant not when your mind knows it’s wrong, but when he roughly grabs you by your hair and pulls you away you know you’re too far gone.
“We can keep this a secret between us___. Can’t we? Pretty please~” he says mockingly. He lets go of your hair and leisurely makes his way around the desk. Your body can no longer stop itself as a warm dampness forming between your legs.
“I guess I can make an exception just this once,” you say that’s when you hear Jungkook's laugh there’s something different about it more sinister. It sends tingles up your spine as your back leans against your desk.
“God, you’re so adorable.” He says pulling you in for an even rougher kiss. You barely have time to register it before he was sticking his tongue down your throat. Your eyes close instinctively to bask in the euphoria. The way Jungkook grabs your jaw to hold you still as he gags you with his tongue sends butterflies straight to your stomach.
Jungkook continues holding your jaw as he sucks strategically on your neck and collarbone. Gosh, is he leaving hickeys on you?! So much for be indiscreet you briefly begin to think.
Your eyes travel down to watch as he does so and you catch him already staring at you, but you feel like he’s staring through you. His eyelids are heavy and pupils dark. You’re never usually shy but under his gaze you can’t help it there’s just something about this man that makes you squirm under him.
Jungkook pulls away from your neck once he’s satisfied and starts to unbutton his dress shirt whilst admiring his artwork.
“Is this desk stable?” Jungkook asks.
“I assume so. Why?” You say breathlessly.
“Are you really asking me why?” Jungkook chuckles, giving you that tingling feeling once again.
“ Well, cause I’m gonna fuck you on it that’s why?” He smirks. Jungkook wastes no time throwing his shirt aside and hooks his hands under your thighs, setting you on the desk. It doesn’t feel that great sitting on a bunch of papers and pens so you quickly push them to the ground beneath your desk.
You sit there anticipating Jungkook's next move but completely don’t expect it when he rips open your blouse, tearing a few of the buttons off.
“Sorry, I guess I was a little too rough. But I can’t be the only one shirtless.” Jungkook explains. You take this moment to actually appreciate Jungkooks body, damn is he toned, his pecs are huge. You almost reach out to touch them however Jungkook gets ahold of your bra first.
“I’ll let you touch my chest as I fuck you but I wanna see what’s under here first.” He tugs at the undergarment relentlessly before you pull it over your head, not even bothering to unhook it. You’ve always been rather insecure about your breast size so you’re a little ashamed to show Jungkook. You suddenly feel insecure under his gaze so you shy away from him.
“___, Just focus on me, nothing else..” you feel him suddenly clasp your breasts. His hands are cold to the touch so you shudder a little.
“This is you under that cool exterior, huh?” You notice what it means and immediately realize you’ve already failed to keep your calm, cool demeanor.
“You just keep getting better and better. I wish you could ride me right now.” Jungkook tugs down your tights not even bothering with your denim skirt. You can’t believe you didn’t realize how dirty he’s speaking right now, you really can’t help but find it’s super hot.
After pulling down your tights low enough, Jungkook pushes up your skirt to get a good view of your core. He goes in hot with 2 fingers making to thrust them deep inducing you to whimper and squirm a little in Jungkook's hold. Jungkook makes sure his other hand is clasped down on your hip, semi-holding you in place.
“you’re soaked down here. Guess there’s no need to prep. From the feels of it, seems like you were already dripping when I walked through the door. Oh, were you thinking about me baby? That’s sweet ,” you try to let out a yeah but are unable to as jungkook quickens the pace of his fingers.
“Should I let you come on my fingers,___? Should I?” He questions you nod between your moans still unable to get words out. You can tell Jungkook’s messing you though and he seems to like it a lot.
“I can’t hear you,___? I’m gonna start counting down..” you wish you could say you hate him for this but damn, it turned you on so much. You love it when a man can take control, you especially love it when the edge you. You’re so consumed with your thinking you don’t hear Jungkook say one. So when you start to hear the unbuckling of his belt you realize he’s gonna give you what you want. You’re so curious to know what it tastes like, feels like, and just how big it is.
“Ugh, do you feel how hard I am? This is what I have to endure everyday ___ and it’s all for you.” Jungkook teases your entrance with his cock, tracing your hole with his tip that’s dripping with precum. Jungkook takes his time doing this, paying no mind to your whining.
“Jungkook..” you groan and Jungkook laughs.
“Ah, you want my dick. Is that all you want from me? Do you even like me?” You swear you hear a hint of sadness in his voice, the sadness you had been hearing earlier. Instead of glassy eyes and stuttering words you’re surprised with the big stretch from Jungkook thrusting inside of you. And he definitely is big, that's for sure. Jungkook's cock remains dormant inside you for a bit after the first thrust as if he’s taking it in and preserving this moment.
“Is that all you got left in you?” You muse, these being the first words you mutter in a while. Jungkook doesn’t seem to find this all that amusing when he wraps his hand around your neck, choking you slightly.
“I’m trying to last long, baby. But it’s hard when I have a needy whore begging for my cock.” Jungkook chides as he begins thrusting again. His pace is quick and hard. Leaving no room for objection. You had pictured this differently and Jungkook has most definitely surprised you in more ways than one. but you’re also happy with the way it’s going. Maybe you’re infatuated with Jungkook already or it’s just the way Jungkook is with you right now. He was so rough and blunt. You just can’t help but like the way he repeatedly hits your g-spot itching you closer and closer to your climax.
You reach out to run your nails along his chest leaving angry red scratches. His hand that was once on your neck grabs your breast and starts squeezing. You know you’re about to cum but you aren’t sure if Jungkook really even cares. His pace is too quick so your body barely has time to register what’s happening after you orgasm. And of course this orgasm has to be the best one you’d say you’ve ever had.
Jungkook pounds into you still his thrusts getting shakier as he lets go of your breast and grabbing you by your hips. Your best guess is he’s about to cum. That’s when suddenly reality hits you in the face. You’re still on your post orgasm high so your mind can hardly register what you want to say as you’re slurring your words.
“J-Jungkook..” you moan out in between breaths hell bent on speaking a full sentence.
“That feels good, huh?”he asks whilst his fingers roughly dig into your hips.
“P-pull out” you groan out finally.
“You really think I’m a novice, I know what to do ___.” Jungkook gives one last jerk of his hips whilst letting out a loud groan. Your mind races because you don’t think he pulled out so that only means one thing.
“Lookie here, I haven’t came that hard in a long time.” He swings around the condom playfully in your face before tying it and tossing it into a small trashcan next to your desk.
You sigh in relief. You’re most definitely not going to be having a child this early in life.
It’s as if you blink and Jungkook’s pants are already on. He wastes no time getting himself back together with you on the other hand just sitting there on the table starstruck. Your legs feel like jelly so there is no way you’re getting up anytime soon.
“You’re leaving?” You ask secretly knowing your answer.
“What else would I be doing right now? I’m definitely not staying the night here,”
“Do you maybe..want to come over-“ you begin but soon notice Jungkook isn’t even listening.
“Damn it’s late. Didn’t think it’d take this long. Wow, now this bitch is blowing up my phone, Fuck this now I’m gonna get an earful. Can we rain check?”Jungkook hurriedly said as he grabbed his jacket that had been for his main objective, he gave you a wave and jogs out of your office while on the phone with his wig you assume.
The best sex with the worst aftercare imaginable was that even considered aftercare. You probably shouldn't have let him walk out like that but he was in a rush and hopefully maybe it’s just because it’s Thanksgiving it’s got to be that.
You feel like you just got whiplash. One second, Jungkook is a rambling mess around you, and the next he’s saying these dirty things? Then suddenly running out? What the hell is up with him? Your logic, as it so often does, washes all over you once again. You’re sitting here, naked, on your desk in your empty office after your married secretary just fucked you on Thanksgiving.
What a strange turn of events.
You quickly throw your clothes back on, massaging your legs and getting up. Your legs are a little wobbly, but nothing you can’t handle. You check yourself in the mirror. Your neck is decorated in bruises, your eyes are watery and your hair is an absolute mess. You let your head fall onto your arms. You feel like absolute shit. Jungkook made you feel so good, yet you’re doubting yourself. You feel like a homewrecker, like a slut.
Your therapist had told you that you look to fill up the voids in your life with simple hook ups like that. You feel like you betrayed yourself. Shit. But, also, a deep part inside of you liked it more than you should have. It loved the scandal, the risk and the drama. Seriously, what’s wrong with you?!
Suddenly, your office phone begins to ring. The last thing you can focus on is work right now, so you ignore it. However, it rings again, so it must be important. You pick it up, waiting for the other person say something because you simply just don’t have the energy.
“Hello? Is this ___ ___? Hi, I’m Jeon Soyeon, your secretary’s wife,” A sweet voice rings from the other side. Your eyes immediately widen. Shit, did she find out already? Jungkook only left ten minutes ago, but she could have put two and two together. Your guys’ little rendezvous added about 30 minutes onto what should’ve been a quick trip to get a jacket. You’re absolutely screwed. She could expose this to the public, and your company would be doomed.
“Yes, Jungkook just stopped by to get his jacket. Anyway, he told me that you’re spending Thanksgiving alone and I felt awful. So, I wanted to call and ask if you’d like to eat with us,” She offers. Your eyebrows scrunch. Could this night get any weirder?
“Oh, thanks for the offer, Mrs. Jeon, but it’s really fine,” You tell her, trying to conceal your breath of relief.
“Please, I insist! Ever since Jungkook landed the job, we’ve been more well off than ever. We’re paying off all of our debt, and we’re saving up to replace our car. You’ve seriously made our lives so much better. Can we please just give you dinner? As a way to thank you?” She practically begs you. Your morals are split right now. She sounds serious about letting you come over, but you and her husband were very intimate not even an hour ago. Would it be wrong? A little voice tells you in the back of your head that if you get friendly with her now, she’ll be less likely to expose you if she found out later on. Is that terrible to think?
“O-okay, thank you so much. I’ll be there soon,” You say without even thinking about it. She thanks you not one less than a million times before hanging up. You sigh as you let the phone settle back into its cradle. What did you just agree to?
An hour, a ton of foundation, and a change of clothes later, you were ready. You had also taken a plan b just in case. You know that Jungkook used a condom, but you couldn’t be careful enough. The more you thought about it, the weirder it was that he was carrying one with him, but you couldn’t think about how weird this night has been. That was a problem for later you.
Jungkook and his wife didn’t live that far away, only a five minute drive with New York City traffic factored in. You live in a nice apartment that overlooks central park, and the Jeons live near you in a normal shared apartment a couple blocks down. It was suburban and lovely, so you didn’t feel a need to bring security with you. While you were getting ready, you had your chef bake a pumpkin pie so you didn’t come empty handed. You grip the pie plate as the car comes to a stop. You thank the driver, stepping outside. Since it’s 7:00 on Thanksgiving, there’s practically no one on the streets. It smells ever so slightly of various Thanksgiving foods, but mostly turkey. Your stomach grumbles, and you hadn’t realized how hungry you are.
After giving her your personal number, she texted you their address. You pressed the button outside, and Soyeon allows you into the building happily. Inside is a nicely decorated typical New York City apartment complex, with plants here and there, a laundry room, mailboxes, stairs and an elevator. You opt for the elevator, pressing the third floor. Your painted red nails grip onto the pie, your anxiety skyrocketing. What are you doing?
The elevator dings open, so you step out, your heels clicking against the stone floor. The hallway goes on for a bit in both directions. You search for the apartment number Soyeon had told you, and you find it quickly. You stand outside of the door, trying to find the courage to knock on the door. What’s stopping you from turning around and going back home? You could tell her you got sick or something and couldn’t make it. However, something is drawing you inside. A deep, dark, twisted part of yourself feels excited. Like you’re about to get caught, and that electrifies you. You shake your head, and knock on the door. After a few seconds, it whips open. Soyeon stands there in a casual, floral dress and minimal makeup. She smiles deeply, bowing as she steps to the side, allowing you inside. You thank her, stepping in and slipping your shoes off. You hand her the pie and thank her once again for allowing you to come over.
“No, its you I should be thankin- oh, Eunji, you scared me!” She laughs, holding her hand to her chest. You look down, and your heart stops.
Standing by Soyeon’s feet is a little girl. She can’t be more than six years old, and she stares up at you with wonder in her eyes. Her silky black hair is pulled into two pigtails, and her chubby face holds two big eyes with cute lashes. She’s wearing a dress like her mom’s, with stockings on. All in all, she’s adorable. However, your mind starts spiraling. No, it can’t be. She can’t be-
“Our daughter. This is our daughter, Eunji. She loves you so much and has been so excited for you to come over. She keeps telling me, ‘I wanna be like Daddy’s boss one day!’” Soyeon giggles, rubbing her daughter’s hair. You say hello to Eunji with a forced smile, but you don’t feel like yourself. It’s like you’re watching your life through a movie. You feel sick. He told you Soyeon was pregnant, not that they had an entire child together.
Searching desperately for an explanation, you look to the walls of the apartment. They are decorated with pictures and paintings. Some include the family. There are ones from when Eunji was a baby, where they are sitting in a lush green meadow and staring lovingly into each other’s eyes while holding her tiny little body. However, what you see next is what fills your mouth with vile.
A picture of the three of them sits right next to you. Jungkook has his arm around Soyeon’s waist, planting a kiss on her cheek. Below them is Eunji, smiling into the camera. You look at Jungkook’s outfit. He’s wearing a blue plaid polo with black pants. You remember him asking you to leave early to take some pictures. You obviously let him, not asking what they were for as to not intrude. In this picture, where he’s so obviously in love with his wife, he’s wearing that same outfit.
That day was exactly a week ago.
Jungkook lied. He’s in love with his wife. They aren’t going through a rough patch, they never have been. They are a small, happy family. Her lied to you, He’s been lying to you. Shit, you really might throw up.
“Hello, Miss ___. Thank you for coming on such short notice,” You hear a voice say. You’re pulled out of your thoughts as you look behind Soyeon. Standing there is Jungkook. He had changed as well, wearing jeans and a black sweater. Why does he have to effortlessly look so good? He bows deeply, staring at you the entire time. His words are polite and professional, but his eyes are a different story. His eyes read lust, hunger. A shiver runs down your spine. He almost looks like he’s enjoying this situation way too much. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one that suggested you come over. You clear your throat, quietly thanking him since it’s all you can muster.
Soyeon then invites everyone to the dinner table. Sitting on it is a large, browned turkey with bubbling gravy, green beans, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, and much more. It honestly all looks amazing. You take the seat farthest from Jungkook. After saying thanks, you all start to dig in. They all have a normal conversation, Eunji talking about things from school and her Mom talking about work. At some point you even join in the conversation, answering the child’s questions about your job and how she can do the same one day. The food is amazing, and drinking some wine makes you feel better. It’s honestly nice, and by ignoring the mostly silent Jungkook, you find yourself having a good time.
After you finish your slice of pie, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. You step in, closing the door behind you. You stare at yourself in the mirror, touching up the foundation on your neck. The longer you look at yourself, the worse you feel. This wonderful woman who is giving you delicious food and letting you into her home is a few feet outside the door, next to her husband who you elicited mere hours before. You hear a knock at the door. You don’t even need to ask who it is because you already know.
Jungkook steps in, letting the door close behind him. You immediately pick up his scent that you’ve gotten so addicted to, breathing it in heavily. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush to him. You feel your legs turn to jelly. His face presses up against your neck, pushing your hair to the side and breathing in your expensive perfume. Goosebumps fly across your body. Suddenly, you push him off, turning around to stare at him.
“Jungkook, you lied to me. You and your wife are perfectly fine. You have a child. Why are you doing this? What do you want with me?” You accuse him. Jungkook plants an innocent face on, and you want to slap and kiss him at the same time.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that you’re so pretty. I can’t help myself,” He practically pouts, staring at the floor. You roll your eyes.
“I’m just so confused. You have a loving wife and daughter, yet you’re pursing me. Why? Are you trying to sabotage me? You’re from my rival company, right? Trying to expose me for being a homewrecker? You won’t get me, I swear. I have resources, I can dig up the darkest shit about you and-” Before you can finish your sentence, Jungkook wraps a strong hand around your neck, pushing you against the sink. You feel yourself struggling to breath, yet heat spreads across your whole body.
“I’m not from the rival company, although I can access the security cameras and find the footage from tonight, so don’t ever speak like that to me again. I’m not some sort of psychopath, but I want you. And I’ll do anything to fucking keep you. That brain of yours is always searching for some kind of logical explanation, but sometimes there is none. Sometimes there’s just want, pure, unadulterated want. Nothing more, nothing less. If you really wanted to expose me, wanted me gone, you would have. You’re the owner, you’re telling me you couldn’t fire a stupid secretary like me? Please, ___. It’s bullshit. I know you like it too. I fucking know it. Don’t deny what your body needs, okay? Maybe an affair is all a Miss Goodie Two Shoes needs. Got it?” He growls, his voice getting lower as he speaks his harsh words. Although what he’s saying is violent, it sends sparks down to your core. You bite your lip. Maybe he’s right. You can’t settle for being a side piece, right? You remember what Jennie said, how messing with a married man is messy territory. A smirk forms on your face.
She hasn’t seen your man.
Two months later
“...and just a few loose ends before the XG headphones are completed,” You finish, smiling as you press “next” on the slideshow, revealing the “end” slide. You look down the long table of executives. Taehyung smiles and gives you a huge thumbs up.
“I have to say, ___, it’s genius. I figured that it was just going to be wireless headphones powered by the sun, but this is genius. Allowing every person to coustomize their headphones with the color, stickers, and more is perfect. Your headphones will always be relevant since people can change them to follow the trends,” The COO says in awe, staring at his notes. You try to hide your surprise, he rarely ever compliments you.
“That’s right, gentlemen. This is going to be a hit, not only here, but everywhere.” You say in your big CEO voice. After a couple of seconds, they all start clapping. Your smile widens, you live for these moments. You wrap up the meeting, and Jimin runs up to you, scribbling on his clipboard as Namjoon follows close behind.
“That was perfect, ___. Absolutely perfect, I’m so proud of you,” He says, patting your back in a fatherly manner.
“Perfect, you were right when you said you needed to pitch it again to get them completely on board. This is going to be a huge hit. We already have 5 million in pre-orders, and the entire internet is buzzing about these headphones. Our rivals don’t stand a chance,” Jimin giggles almost evily. Namjoon chuckles, his eyes sparkling.
“Although he sounds crazy, he’s right. I’m really glad. You’ve found a way to balance your work and personal life. I love it, honestly. You’re happier, and it’s reflecting on your work. I love nothing more,” He tells you. It’s true, you’re talking to your family more and Jennie introduced you to three of her friends, Rosie, Lisa and Jisoo. You guys have been hanging out a lot lately, from late night karaoke to dancing the night away in various clubs. It’s honestly a blast, and you feel like a real true young adult in your twenties. However, going to work the next day and doing what you love most make syou the happiest. You feel the best you have in a really long time. The empty void you had has been filled. In fact, it’s overflowing. You love it.
“Thanks, Namjoon,” You say sincerely. He pats your back before Jimin starts speaking again.
“Do you want me to call your driver, ___? Your work day is over, and Jennie borderline threatened me to take you to her house,” You laugh at this.
“Yes, I just have to stop by my office. Thanks, Jimin!” You call, making your way to the elevator and pressing the top floor. The elevator whisks you up into the sky. It dings, opening up to your floor. It’s well past when the work day ends, so all your secretaries are gone.
Except one.
You step into your office, the sunset washing the room into a pink and orange glow. You make your way over to your desk, grabbing your purse. You hear a voice by your fireplace, but you don’t jump. It’s routine for you guys at this point.
“A Bronco was delivered to our apartment this morning. I wonder who it could have been, Soyeon was ecstatic.” The voice says. You smirk, shutting down your computer.
“Yeah, I wonder,” You feel strong hands wrap around your body. You press your head against his chest. As he starts kissing your neck. You giggle, pushing him back.
“Not tonight, Jungkook. Jennie is forcing me to come over,” You tell him. Your back is against your desk, with his hands on either side of you. The tension is thick, and he kisses you about a million times, eliciting laughs out of you.
“Ugh, I swear that she’s trying to take you away from me. Oh, that’s right, before you leave, here,” He pulls out a bouquet of the most beautiful, deep indigo purple violets. You gasp, taking them and smelling them.
“How’d you know they’re my favorite?” You squeal like a little girl. Jungkook smiles genuinely, watching you reaction. He runs his hands up your arms until they land on your head, pulling you in for a deep kiss that’s so sweet you could melt.
“Because I know you,” He says softly. You smile, ducking under his arm and heading to the door.
“Try not to wait up!” You call, causing him to laugh.
On the outside, you’re an extremely successful buisneswoman. You have a style that many would die for, riches people can’t imagine and so much more. You hav everything going for you. You go out with friends often, are gorgeous, yet humble and sweet, and can be professional always. There’s little msot wouldn’t do to be you. You have men wrapped around your finger, and if you said jump, they’d say “How high”? You have everything, and could have anyone. Rumors circulate in magazines and tabloids, saying your with the richest and most famous male celebrities. It’s true, you could have any of them. Yet, you chose your married secretary. Why?
Maybe it’s the scandalous aspect of it. Allowing yourself to rebel a bit. The way he makes you feel is intoxication, hes like a drug. It’s also the little moments, like getting you a bundle of your favorite flowers. Sure, it’s a messy affair that could end badly for the two of you. But he’s made you so incredibly happy, allowing you to step out of your comfort zone and improve yourself for the better. Maybe all you two will ever be is an affair, and that’s okay. You’re not looking for forever, but rather here, right here, right now. That’s what matters, the fact that your timelines matched up and allowed you two to be in each other’s existence. You were a chapter in each other’s stories. So, the statement that you never settled for less still remained true. Your life is now perfect, because you’re not a sad girl anymore. You’re his mistress on the side, and you’re happy with that.
Because, honestly, have you seen him? He is your man.
summary: trying to steal the gold necklace around his neck, you didn’t realize that the man you were stealing from was a high-ranking police officer.
warnings: officer jungkook x thief reader, explicit sexual content, dead dove, cnc/dub-con, gun play, belt choking, usage of handcuffs, primal play, free use/rape, public sex, heavy degradation, manhandling, daddy, dom jk, clit rubbing, spitting, mock sympathy, condescending dirty talk, cum eating, pussy eating, blow job, usage whore & slut, praising, multiple orgasms, manipulation, rough sex, overstimulation, fingering, cum eating penetrative sex, creampie.
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂˚₊┈┈୨୧┈┈‧₊˚⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂
Desperation has a way of rewriting your morals. It convinces good people to cross lines they once swore they would never touch, somehow making it feel like the only choice left.
"Let's check out the beer house tonight." Hanni said, wiggling her eyebrows as she leaned against the kitchen counter. "I heard it's packed with rich people on Fridays."
Your brows knitted together. "A beer house?"
A knowing smirk tugged at Hanni's lips. She swept her dark hair into a messy bun before pulling out the chair beside the table, giving the seat a light tap as she gestured for you to sit.
The moment you settled across from her, she propped her elbows on the table and leaned in…There was a familiar gleam in her eyes—the kind that only appeared whenever she had a new scheme brewing.
"It's one of the most popular beer houses in the city," she explained. "The drinks alone cost more than what we spend on groceries in a week. People who go there don't think twice before throwing money around, which means they're exactly the kind of people we're looking for."
You couldn't help but picture it.
Crowded tables, loud music and half-empty bottles scattered across polished wooden counters. Men laughing far too loudly, their faces flushed from alcohol, expensive watches gleaming beneath the dim lights while thick leather wallets bulged inside the pockets of tailored trousers.
You frowned, unease settling in your chest.
"I'm pretty sure it'll be full of drunk old men, Hanni." you rested your chin against your palm. “Doesn't that sound a little... dangerous?”
Hanni dismissed the concern with a careless wave of her hand.
"They'll be too wasted to notice us," she said with a shrug. "Besides, those are the guys with money. A few missing bills won't even cross their minds."
She leaned even closer, lowering her voice as though she were about to reveal the greatest secret in the world.
"Just give them a sweet smile," she said, the corners of her lips curling into something dangerously playful. "Make them think you've taken an interest in them. Laugh at their terrible jokes, let them believe they're charming..."
She snapped her fingers between the two of you. "And before they even realize what's happening, you've already walked away with their wallet—or better yet, their credit cards."
A life built on stolen fortunes, calculated manipulation, and carefully crafted deception.
The words no longer sting the way they used to. They've become as familiar as your own name, each one another thread woven into the person you've become. What once filled you with guilt now slips through your fingers as though it was never yours to carry.
Perhaps that's what desperation does.
It doesn't ask you to become someone else. It simply teaches you how to live with the stranger you've become.
Earlier that evening, you and Hanni gathered everything you had stolen throughout the month, laying each piece across the small wooden table between you.
"We only gathered six hundred dollars this month, Y/N... This won't be enough."
A phone, a handful of jewelry, two wallets, and a watch clattered against the worn wood before settling into a messy pile.
"This won't cover this month's rent..." she let out a weary sigh, her manicured nails tapping absentmindedly against the tabletop as she stared at the stolen valuables and the few crumpled bills scattered between them. "And we still have enrollment next month."
Your lips fell into a pout. "But the jewelry I stole is real gold."
You reached for the bracelet, turning it beneath the light. The polished links gleamed against your fingers.
Hanni only sighed again, the exhaustion in her expression deepening.
"It's low-karat gold, Y/N. And there's barely enough of it to be worth anything." she rubbed her temple before glancing at the rest of the pile. "If you manage to steal more next time, maybe we'll actually get something decent for it."
You looked back down at the bracelet, the weight of her words settling heavier than the gold resting in your palm.
You weren't born into wealth…from kindergarten until the day you graduated high school, scholarships carried you through your education. Without them, you doubted you would've made it that far.
College was different.
Moving out had seemed like the responsible decision at the time. Renting a small apartment near the university was cheaper than spending money on transportation every day between your hometown and campus, and you couldn't bring yourself to ask your parents for more than they were already giving.
So you packed your clothes into two worn-out bags, hugged your mother goodbye, listened to your father's endless reminders to eat properly, and promised them you would be fine.
Your father spent his days baking homemade bread before the sun had fully risen, while your mother worked quietly as a bookkeeper, carefully balancing numbers that never seemed to balance in your own household. Together, they earned just enough to keep food on the table and a roof over your heads.
Needs always came first.
Wants became something you learned to admire from a distance.
Yet, strangely enough, you never felt deprived.
Your home was small, tucked away in a quiet neighborhood where everybody knew everybody, but it was always filled with warmth.
While your classmates spoke about family vacations abroad, arrived at school carrying luxury handbags, and replaced perfectly good shoes simply because a newer pair had been released, you found comfort in simpler things.
The smell of freshly baked bread lingering in the kitchen before sunrise. The sound of your father humming while kneading dough. Your mother's gentle voice reminding you not to skip breakfast, even when she knew you were running late.
You loved that life.
More importantly, you loved the people who gave it to you.
Which was why, when college came, you couldn't bear the thought of asking them for more. Every dollar they handed you felt heavier than the last, weighted by sacrifices they never spoke about but could never hide.
You watched your father work longer hours. You noticed your mother's tired eyes after another day spent staring at ledgers and receipts. They never complained…not once—but love has a way of revealing exhaustion long before words ever do.
So you promised yourself that you would become lighter.
You moved out. You searched for part-time jobs. You told yourself that no matter how difficult life became, you would survive without asking your parents to carry you any farther.
You really believed honest work would be enough.
Finding a cheap apartment hadn't been easy, and if there was one stroke of luck you could still thank the universe for, it was meeting Hanni.
You found her through a post looking for a roommate. She needed someone to split the rent, and you needed somewhere you could actually afford.
The apartment sat only a few minutes away from the university, saving you the transportation costs you had spent countless nights calculating over and over again.
Hanni turned out to be easier to live with than you expected. She wasn't the type to spend recklessly or chase after things she didn't need. Like you, she stretched every dollar until there was nothing left to stretch.
For the first few months, you lived off your savings.
Each rent payment made the envelope thinner. Each grocery trip reminded you that numbers disappeared far quicker than they were earned. You searched for work every chance you got, walking into cafés, convenience stores, restaurants—any place with a "Now Hiring" sign taped to the window.
When a fast-food restaurant finally hired you as a server, you thought things were finally looking up.
You couldn't remember the last time you had been so relieved. The excitement, however, didn't last very long.
The paycheck barely reached your hands before it already belonged somewhere else. Half disappeared into rent. Another portion went to groceries, transportation, and the endless expenses college quietly demanded.
Scholarships covered your tuition, but not everything else. There were laboratory fees, books that professors insisted were mandatory, printed materials, projects, uniforms, and countless little payments that no one ever warned you about.
The money came in. It left even faster.
And no matter how carefully you budgeted every cent, by the end of each month, you always found yourself staring at the same conclusion.
It still wasn't enough.
Hanni, however, never seemed to struggle the way you did.
For reasons she never fully explained, she always had money tucked away somewhere. Not enough to live lavishly, but enough to ease the constant pressure that settled on your shoulders every time rent was due.
Naturally, you asked where all that money came from. Hanni would only shrug, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as though the answer amused her.
"I have a lot of sidelines," she'd say, never bothering to explain any further.
It was vague enough to end the conversation, yet suspicious enough to keep your curiosity alive.
Eventually, you stopped asking…but you never stopped noticing.
One afternoon she'd come home carrying the newest phone model, casually placing it on the kitchen counter while she searched the refrigerator for something to eat.
The following day, it would already be gone.
Sometimes it was a watch. Other times it was a gold necklace or a designer wallet. The items constantly changed, disappearing almost as quickly as they appeared, but you never questioned her.
It wasn't until the two of you had grown close enough that she finally trusted you with the truth.
You remembered expecting disgust to settle in your stomach the moment she confessed. Instead, all you felt was curiosity.
Hanni told her story so casually, as though she were recalling an ordinary childhood memory instead of admitting to a crime.
She learned how to steal when she was still a little girl. Whenever she picked up a toy at a store or tore open a packet of snacks while trailing beside her mother, no one questioned her. People rarely suspected children, and Hanni learned that long before she understood the weight of what she was doing.
What started as childish curiosity slowly became instinct. Instinct became skill, skill became confidence, and confidence eventually became survival.
By the time she reached adulthood, stealing was no longer something she occasionally did—it was simply how she made a living.
She wasn't born into comfort either. Her family had struggled just as much as yours, if not more, and perhaps that was why you found it difficult to judge her.
You knew what it felt like to lie awake at night wondering how another month would pass.
You knew what desperation looked like because you had seen it reflected in your parents' exhausted smiles, hidden behind reassuring words they never truly meant. Maybe that was why her confession never horrified you.
Desperation has a peculiar way of changing people.
Because somewhere deep inside, in a place you refused to acknowledge, you understood exactly why she had chosen this path.
"You should blend in. Don't wear those ridiculous jackets or black caps." Hanni chuckled, uncapping the marker in her hand before turning to the small whiteboard hanging beside the refrigerator.
She drew little stick figures and arrows as if she were giving a university lecture instead of teaching you how to commit crimes. There were circles around the words confidence, timing, and exit, each one underlined twice before she tapped the marker against the board.
It sounded embarrassingly simple…but it wasn’t.
Your first theft had been nothing more than a granola bar from a convenience store, yet your hands had trembled so violently you almost dropped it before reaching the exit. Your heart pounded against your ribs with enough force to convince you everyone around could hear it.
Every customer who glanced in your direction felt like security in disguise, every beep from the cashier sounded like an alarm, and by the time the automatic doors slid open behind you, your palms were slick with sweat around the tiny snack bar you had risked so much to steal.
Hanni, meanwhile…walked out carrying a bottle of wine, two bags of cheetos, and three packs of mini m&m's tucked somewhere beneath her oversized cardigan. She looked utterly unbothered, stopping only to ask whether you wanted to eat at the nearby park before either of you went home.
You remembered staring at her with your mouth slightly open, unable to understand how someone could steal so much and still have the composure to worry about dinner.
She only laughed. "It gets easier."
You hated how right she was.
Over the following weeks, your trembling hands gradually learned to stay still. You learned that people rarely questioned someone who acted like they belonged.
Confidence, Hanni often said, was the greatest disguise anyone could wear, and manipulation was nothing more than convincing people to believe the version of you that benefited them most.
You practiced smiling at strangers. You practiced maintaining eye contact. You practiced walking away without looking back.
Little by little, it became easier to silence the guilt.
Two months later, you could finally say you were improving. Your movements were steadier, your excuses more believable, your lies smoother than they had ever been before.
Even so, whenever you compared yourself to Hanni, you still felt like an amateur watching a professional at work. She stole with an ease you doubted you would ever possess.
"Hanni, I'm not good at seducing people... you know that." you let out a groan, dropping your forehead onto the table with a dull thud.
For all the confidence you had slowly learned to fake while stealing, anything involving men was an entirely different story.
You have no experience.
Your thefts still involved people, but you always kept your distance…especially from men. You waited for moments of carelessness, slipping valuables from unattended bags, distracted shoppers, or pockets left carelessly exposed before disappearing into the crowd.
It was safer that way. The rewards were smaller, perhaps, but it meant you never had to charm, distract, or make someone lower their guard just to steal from them.
After all, you were still an amateur.
Romance had always seemed like a luxury you couldn't afford.
While your classmates spent their weekends going on dates or gossiping about their newest crushes, you spent yours calculating expenses and wondering whether instant noodles could count as dinner for the fourth night in a row.
Hanni had pointed it out countless times before.
According to her, manipulating people wasn't always about lying.
With men, it was about making them believe they had a chance with you.
The problem was…you had no idea how to do that.
You didn't know how to flirt, how to bat your eyelashes, or how to laugh at someone's terrible jokes without making it painfully obvious you were pretending. The thought alone made your stomach twist into nervous knots.
Hanni rolled her eyes, dismissing every excuse before you even had the chance to finish making one.
"Oh, stop it." she waved a hand dramatically. "You're very pretty, Y/N. Don't give me that bullshit! Just smile at them…one cute little smile and I guarantee they'll be tripping over themselves to impress you."
You buried your face deeper into your arms."But, Hanni—"
"No buts." she sprang to her feet before you could protest again, practically skipping toward her bedroom. A moment later, she returned with two shopping bags swinging from her hands, the grin on her face growing impossibly wider.
"Besides, I already bought us dresses for tonight." she giggled.
Oh, you were doomed.
"This is so short," you complained, tugging at the hem of the black spaghetti-strap dress for what had to be the tenth time. Every time you managed to pull it down another inch, it simply rode back up the moment you took another step, as though the fabric itself was determined to embarrass you.
Hanni had insisted on doing everything herself. Your hair fell in loose, natural waves over your shoulders, soft enough to hide the nervous rise and fall of your breathing. She had done your makeup too, dusting the slightest touch of glitter across your eyelids that shimmered every time the streetlights caught your face.
Even before you reached your destination, your feet were already protesting against the thin, strappy heels wrapped around your ankles, each step reminding you that beauty demanded sacrifices you had never volunteered to make.
Hanni glanced at you before letting out an amused laugh. "I can't see your panties from here, so you're fine."
You shot her an unamused look, earning another laugh from her.
Unlike you, Hanni looked completely at ease.
Her dark green off-the-shoulder dress hugged her figure effortlessly, paired with matching heels that clicked confidently against the pavement. Her hair was swept into a messy updo that somehow looked intentionally elegant rather than rushed, and with the confidence she carried herself, no one would ever guess that the two of you struggled to pay rent every month.
Together, you looked exactly like the kind of girls who had never worried about money a day in their lives.
Which was almost funny.
Because hidden beneath expensive-looking dresses and carefully applied makeup were two women desperately hoping to walk away with someone else's wallet, watch, jewelry—or anything valuable enough to buy another month of survival.
"Okay, let's order a drink first and look around," Hanni said, her voice barely audible beneath the chatter spilling out from inside the beer house as she pushed the heavy wooden door open.
You followed closely behind, your heartbeat already beginning to pick up.
You had spent the entire walk convincing yourself that the place would be filled with loud, drunken old men slumped over tables, too intoxicated to notice a missing wallet or an expensive watch. Instead, your expectations dissolved the moment your eyes adjusted to the dim amber lights.
The place was crowded…not just with old men, but with all kinds of people. Groups of friends occupied long wooden tables, raising glasses every time the football match playing on the massive television reached an exciting moment. Couples sat tucked away in quieter corners, talking over bottles of beer, while businessmen who looked as though they had come straight from the office loosened their ties and laughed with colleagues over overflowing pitchers.
Your gaze drifted toward the long wooden bar stretching across one side of the room, shelves behind it neatly lined with bottles you had only ever seen locked behind glass displays. The smell of grilled meat and fried food lingered in the air, mixing with the bitter scent of beer, while a small band adjusted their instruments on the stage, preparing for the night ahead.
You quietly took a deep breath, trying to calm the nervous flutter building inside your chest.
You had been stealing for two months now, yet every new place made you feel like it was your first all over again. The fear of getting caught never truly disappeared—it only learned how to hide beneath your smile.
Hanni walked through the crowd without a hint of hesitation, weaving between tables before claiming two empty seats near the stage. When the server approached, she greeted him with an easy smile, the kind that belonged to someone who had come for nothing more than a quiet drink after a long week.
"Two draft beers, please."
The server nodded before disappearing toward the counter.
Hanni waited until he was out of earshot before her eyes swept across the room once more, lingering only for a second before the corner of her lips slowly lifted.
"I found your table." Hanni raised a brow, the corner of her lips curling into a knowing smile.
You pouted, instinctively following her gaze as your eyes wandered across the crowded beer house. Round wooden tables filled nearly every corner, occupied by groups of men laughing over clinking bottles, scattered glasses, and the remnants of another round.
Of course she'd choose men. You had long grown used to Hanni's reasoning.
Men were easier to distract…and according to her, far easier to manipulate than women.
"Which one?" you asked, squinting as you searched through the sea of unfamiliar faces.
Hanni let out a quiet laugh before leaning closer, her perfume briefly overpowering the scent of beer lingering in the air. "The third table near the bar," she whispered, careful not to draw attention. "They look a little older than us. Not too old, though."
She grinned mischievously. "I'd say they're giving daddy vibes."
You frowned at her. “Ugh, Hanni!”
Slowly, your gaze followed the direction she had subtly pointed, finally landing on the group she had been watching.
There were seven of them gathered around one of the larger tables, completely absorbed in their own conversation. They couldn't have been much older than Hanni had guessed, perhaps somewhere in their late twenties or early thirties.
Dressed in simple shirts, rugged jeans, and jackets carelessly draped over the backs of their chairs, they looked more like friends unwinding after a long week than the wealthy businessmen you had imagined on your walk there.
At first glance, there was nothing remarkable about them. Yet the longer you watched, the easier it became to notice the details.
A watch that caught the light every time one of them lifted his beer. A phone left face-up beside an overflowing ashtray without a second thought. Car keys, wallets, and cigarette packs lay scattered across the wooden table between bottles of beer and half-finished baskets of bar snacks, abandoned in the comfort of good company.
They laughed loudly, occasionally teasing one another, while wisps of cigarette smoke curled lazily into the air above them. They were so engrossed in their own little world that they never once looked your way.
"What do you think?" Hanni asked, her eyes never leaving the group near the bar."I say you target that table while I take the one near the door."
Your gaze lingered on the men for another moment before dropping to the table between you. Almost as if on cue, the server returned with your drinks, carefully placing two glasses of draft beer in front of you. Tiny bubbles rushed to the surface beneath a thick layer of foam, the chilled glass immediately collecting beads of condensation.
Hanni thanked him with a smile before wrapping her fingers around her glass. She looked... excited. There was always a certain spark in her eyes before a job, one you had grown familiar with over the past two months.
While your stomach twisted itself into knots, hers seemed to settle. The closer she came to danger, the calmer she became.
Your fingers traced the condensation gathering around your own glass as you quietly stared into the golden beer. The thought of walking up to a table full of strangers, pretending to be interested in one of them, was enough to make your stomach tighten.
You had spent the last two months learning how to steal, how to lie without stumbling over your words, how to smile convincingly enough for people to lower their guard.
But flirting? That was something entirely different.
Still...
You glanced down at the dress hugging your figure before absentmindedly smoothing the fabric over your thighs. Hanni had spent her own money buying it for you. She had curled your hair, done your makeup, and patiently convinced you that you looked like you belonged in a place like this. She had done everything she could to make tonight successful.
The least you could do was try.
The numbers flashed through your mind before you could stop them, reminding you how little time you had left before another payment was due.
You drew in a slow breath before finally looking back at Hanni, offering her a small smile that carried far more determination than confidence.
"Alright," you said with determination. "I promise I'll do my best."
Her face immediately brightened. "That's my girl!"
She lifted her glass toward yours with a grin so wide it was almost contagious.
"Cheers to that, baby."
The soft clink echoed between you, disappearing almost instantly beneath the laughter, music, and the constant hum of conversations filling the beer house.
Easy…smile, flirt and steal.
After a couple of minutes spent nursing your drinks and quietly familiarizing yourselves with the beer house, Hanni caught your eye from across the table. She gave the slightest nod—a silent signal the two of you had long grown accustomed to.
It was time.
You rose from your seat, smoothing the wrinkles from your dress before letting your fingers comb through your hair, tucking a few loose strands behind your ear. Hanni disappeared into the crowd without another word, already making her way toward her own target, while you headed in the opposite direction, forcing yourself to wear the kind of smile she had spent weeks teaching you. Soft enough to seem approachable…confident enough to belong.
The barstool closest to their table sat empty.
You slipped onto it, offering the bartender a polite smile as he passed by before pretending to study the rows of bottles displayed behind the counter. From the corner of your eye, your attention never truly left the table behind you.
Your heartbeat steadied, not because you were any less nervous…but because your mind had finally begun doing what Hanni had trained it to do.
Observe.
A few wallets lay carelessly on the wooden table, abandoned without a second thought by men too engrossed in conversation to notice their surroundings. Your fingers twitched ever so slightly.
Tonight, maybe two wallets would be enough. Any more than that would only invite unnecessary attention.
Your gaze lingered for another second before drifting higher, carefully studying each of the men one by one.
If you were going to approach someone tonight, it couldn't be just anyone. You needed the one who looked the wealthiest, the one whose watch alone could cover next month's rent, whose jewelry might be worth more than everything you and Hanni had managed to steal over the past few months combined.
You couldn't flirt with all of them. So if you were going to take the risk, you might as well choose the wealthiest one.
Your eyes drifted from one man to another, careful not to linger for too long.
One wore a pair of silver earrings that matched the chain resting against his chest. Another—the one with dimples that appeared every time he laughed—had an elegant silver watch wrapped around his wrist, the polished metal glimmering beneath the warm lights whenever he reached for his beer. The man beside him looked much simpler, dressed in an ordinary black shirt without a single piece of jewelry to catch your attention, and you dismissed him almost immediately.
You kept looking.
Until your gaze landed on a tattooed hand lazily wrapped around the neck of a beer bottle.
Silver rings adorned nearly every finger, each one different from the next, and just above them rested a watch that looked far too expensive to belong in your world. Your eyes followed the slow movement of his hand as he lifted the bottle to his lips, only to notice the gold chain disappearing beneath the collar of his dark shirt.
His ear was adorned with several silver earrings, each one catching the amber light whenever he turned toward one of his friends. When he tilted his head back for another sip, the small silver ring through his lower lip glinted just as brightly.
Then your gaze wandered lower…a pair of Porsche keys hung carelessly from the belt loop of his black jeans, swinging gently whenever he shifted in his seat as though they were nothing more than an ordinary keychain.
You quietly looked away before he could catch you staring, your heartbeat quickening as your fingers curled around the wooden counter.
Target locked.
You immediately order a shot of tequila, not to get drunk, but to act drunk.
Hanni had told you that people lowered their guard around someone who seemed tipsy. A little laugh that lingered too long, a gaze that wandered a little too often, movements just clumsy enough to look believable. It made approaching strangers easier.
You thanked the bartender with a polite smile before resting your elbow against the counter. From the corner of your eye, your attention drifted back to the table.
His back was mostly facing you, making it difficult to study him without being obvious. Every now and then he'd turn toward one of his friends, giving you a brief glimpse of his side profile before looking away again, and somehow those fleeting seconds were enough for you to notice far more than you intended.
His jaw was clean and sharply defined, catching the amber glow whenever he tipped his head back to drink. A straight nose balanced his features effortlessly, while soft strands of dark hair fell across his forehead, shifting every time he ran a hand through them. Every so often, you caught sight of his dark round eyes, softened by the alcohol he'd been drinking, their usual alertness replaced by a lazy heaviness that made them unexpectedly... pretty.
Your brows knitted together.
You were supposed to be memorizing his belongings Y/N! Not his face!
The bartender slid your tequila across the counter. You murmured a quiet thank you before lifting the glass to your lips, taking only a small sip. The burn barely had time to settle in your throat before your eyes sneakily wandered back toward the table.
"Huh?"
His seat was empty!
Your brows furrowed as your eyes searched the group, confusion replacing the confidence you had spent the last several minutes trying so hard to build.
"Looking for me?” a deep chuckle sounded from behind you.
Your eyes widened, you turned so quickly you nearly knocked your drink over.
Even with you sitting down, he towered over you with ease, one side of his body leaning casually against the polished wooden counter. Up close, the details you had only managed to steal glances of moments ago became impossible to ignore—the silver rings decorating his fingers, the tattoos stretching over his right arm, the small hoop piercing his lower lip, and those heavy-lidded eyes now looking directly into yours.
The corner of his mouth curled upward…amused.
As though he'd caught you doing something you weren't supposed to.
"H-Hi!" you greeted, your voice coming out much smaller than you intended as you struggled to hide how badly he had startled you.
What the fuck.
For a split second, every lesson Hanni had drilled into your head disappeared. Your carefully rehearsed smile, your excuses, the confident persona you had spent two months trying to build—they all vanished the moment he caught you off guard.
He raised a brow, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.
"May I help you?"
Your own brows drew together before you could stop them, your smile faltering for the briefest moment.
"Hm?"
"You kept looking at me." he chuckled, low and amused.
There wasn't even a hint of uncertainty in his voice, as though he'd caught you staring several times already and had simply decided to humor you instead of calling you out for it.
Heat rushed to your cheeks almost instantly, your mind scrambling for something—anything…that would keep your act from falling apart before it had even begun.
Trying to save yourself, you immediately gave him a flirty smile.
"Oh..." a soft giggle escaped your lips, "Was I that obvious?"
You tilted your head ever so slightly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before looking back up at him through your lashes exactly the way Hanni had told you to.
When he took a step closer, your breath hitched.
His thick black boots brushed against the legs of your stool, and with the way he positioned himself, his broad frame nearly shielded you from the rest of the room. It wasn't intentional…or maybe it was—but suddenly the chatter of the beer house seemed much farther away than it had a second ago.
"Uh-huh," he murmured, the single sound barely above a whisper.
The faint scent of mint lingered beneath the beer on his breath, close enough to make your thoughts blur for a moment. Up close, the gold chain resting against his collarbone shimmered softly, layered alongside several silver necklaces that framed the base of his neck.
Before your courage had the chance to abandon you…you slowly lifted a hand and rested it around the back of his neck, your fingertips grazing the cool metal chains lying against his skin.
"You're cute," you whispered, biting lightly on your lower lip as your fingers idly toyed with one of the necklaces. Every movement had been rehearsed in your head a dozen times before tonight, yet none of them felt natural now that they were happening. You only hoped he couldn't tell.
Fuck, he’s so handsome up close!
His head tilted slightly, curiosity flickering across his face before his gaze slowly drifted downward. It lingered far longer than you were prepared for, tracing the exposed skin above your dress before continuing lower. Instinctively, you fought the urge to tug at the hem that had ridden higher on your thighs.
Don't. Fake it until you make it.
"I am?" he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting into the faintest smirk. His tongue swept across the silver ring piercing his lower lip before he leaned even closer, his lips hovering just beneath your ear.
"Yeah," you breathed, forcing confidence into your voice despite the frantic beating of your heart. "Want you."
The words felt foreign leaving your mouth. Still, they had the desired effect.
As his attention remained fixed on the spot where your pulse fluttered, your fingers subtly found the clasp hidden beneath the chains around his neck.
One careful movement...that was all it would take.
You had barely begun to unhook it when his hand closed firmly around your wrist.
Your heart stopped. For one horrifying second, you were certain he'd caught you.
"Let's go to my car."
What?
"H-Huh? I..."
He lifted his head just enough for your eyes to meet his. The lazy amusement from earlier had disappeared, replaced by something darker.
"I can't fuck you here."
Your eyes widen, fucking was your limit!
Your gaze drifted to the thick gold necklace resting against his chest... the leather wallet tucked carelessly into his pocket... and the sleek black car waiting only a few steps away.
Fuck it.
You followed him in silence, the cool night breeze brushing against your exposed skin and reminding you just how short your dress was.
Your gaze remained fixed on his broad back as he unlocked the car, your throat tightening around a nervous swallow.
Earlier, when you had walked past Hanni, you had nearly burst into tears at the sight of her giving you an approving nod, silently cheering you on while she remained at her table, busy charming the men around her.
You couldn't back out now. Not after she'd placed this much faith in you.
The parking lot was quiet, a little farther from the beer house…the music fading into the distance. When he turned around, you gathered every ounce of courage you had left and greeted him with the sweetest smile you could muster.
Your mind raced, thoughts crashing into one another until only three remained.
First, find a way to slip the gold chain from around his neck. The wallet would come next, once he finally let his guard down.
Second, you were not going to fuck him.
It didn't matter how broad his shoulders were, how unfairly handsome he looked, or how pretty his eyes became whenever he smiled.
Your hormones could cry about it later.
Third, whatever happened tonight... for the love of God, do not get caught.
He looked down at you, one brow lifting ever so slightly when he noticed the faint tremble in your legs.
"Get in."
He pulled the backseat door open for you, and you offered him a small, flirty smile before carefully slipping inside.
The leather seat gave beneath your weight with a quiet creak, and for the briefest moment, you convinced yourself you'd have a second to steady your breathing, to gather the scattered pieces of your thoughts before facing him again.
The hope didn't last.
The car shifted as he climbed in after you, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft, final sound that seemed to swallow the last bit of space inside the cabin.
Your pulse faltered, the hem of your dress had ridden higher than you'd intended, exposing far more of your thighs than you were comfortable with, the fabric inching dangerously close to revealing the lace of your panties. Every instinct urged you to smooth it back into place, but you stopped yourself.
Focus, Y/N! You need to seduce him!
You had barely opened your mouth, ready to deliver one of the corniest pickup lines Hanni had relentlessly drilled into your head, when his hand suddenly pulled your hair.
Your lips parted in surprise as he tugged you toward him, leaving no room for hesitation before his lips crashed against yours.
A breathless whimper escaped you, your eyes widening for only a second before they fluttered shut. His fingers tightened around the hair above your nape, angling your head exactly how he wanted it, his kisses deep, hungry, and impatient.
The bitter trace of beer lingered on his tongue, flooding your senses until your thoughts blurred at the edges. Your body yielded without resistance, melting effortlessly against his as he drew you closer, the strength behind the movement making you feel almost weightless in his hold.
For a fleeting moment, you forgot your mission.
His tongue slipped against yours with practiced ease, stealing every coherent thought from your mind before instinct finally caught up.
You slowly lifted your arms around his neck, your fingers threading through the softness of his hair as though simply indulging in the kiss. Then, careful not to rush…they drifted lower, brushing over the warm skin of his nape before gliding toward the necklace resting against his neck.
“Open your mouth wider,” he rasped, pulling away just enough to speak. A string of saliva stretched between your mouths as his other hand slid around your neck…his long, tattooed fingers wrapping firmly around your throat in a possessive grip.
Your eyes widened…one of your hands remained tangled behind his nape, your fingers still toying with the chain around his neck, desperately searching for the tiny clasp hidden beneath his hair.
Too distracted to obey his request… he suddenly tugged your hair harder.
A startled gasp escaped your lips, and he seized the opportunity—his tongue slipping hot and messy into your parted mouth, kissing you with a hunger that left you no chance to catch your breath.
You barely kissed him back, surrendering to the pace he set as your mind gradually emptied. Somehow, through the dizziness clouding your head, your fingertips continued their quiet search along the cool metal resting against his skin, praying to find the clasp before he noticed.
“Mmph!”
A soft whimper caught in your throat when he bit down harshly on your lower lip. The hand around your neck tightened, his fingers pressing deeper into your throat until your breath hitched, the pressure almost choking you.
“What are you doing?” he groaned, pulling you away from his lips before effortlessly lifting your entire body onto his lap.
Large hands settled on your hips, guiding your legs to either side of him until you were straddling him completely, your dress riding embarrassingly higher over your thighs in the process.
“Hmm?” you murmured, blinking up at him through hazy eyes, your lips swollen and glistening from his relentless kisses.
He tilted his head, studying you in silence.
The intensity of his gaze made something tighten inside your chest. Your confidence, already hanging by a thread, began to unravel beneath his eyes alone, and without thinking, your hands abandoned the necklace altogether, drifting back into his hair as though that had been your intention from the very beginning.
“Kiss me back,” he rasped.
A quiet breath of relief nearly escaped your lips. He hadn't noticed.
You offered him the sweetest smile you could manage before leaning in again, your heart pounding so violently you were certain he could feel it through your chest. You kissed him as carefully as you could, trying to mimic the way he'd kissed you only moments ago, parting his lips with hesitant eagerness, hoping it looked natural enough to fool him.
To your surprise, he let you…he didn't take control or deepen the kiss. Instead, he simply let you explore him at your own pace.
Heat crept up your neck and settled across your cheeks, embarrassment blooming beneath your skin as the realization slowly dawned on you.
He wasn't following your lead.
“Baby...” he chuckled between kisses, his tattooed hand sliding up to cradle your jaw, holding your face steady with a firm grip. “You're not kissing me properly.”
Embarrassment rushed through your body so quickly it almost made you dizzy, your inexperience laid bare after only a few clumsy kisses.
Determination quickly swallowed the humiliation.
Before you could think twice, you leaned in again, kissing him with far more urgency than before, desperate to prove that you knew exactly what you were doing.
The moment he finally kissed you back, a breathless whimper nearly escaped you.
He kissed you effortlessly, guiding the rhythm while you struggled to keep up, your breaths already turning shallow enough that you were certain you looked seconds away from hyperventilating.
Determined not to lose yourself completely, you bit down on his lower lip, earning a low, gravelly groan that vibrated against your mouth. The sound alone made your stomach flutter. Taking advantage of the distraction, your trembling hands drifted back to the chain around his neck, fingertips carefully searching beneath his hair for the tiny clasp.
Your eyes fluttered shut when he sucked on your tongue, warmth rushing across your ears and down your neck so quickly it almost burned. It was your first time being kissed like this—his kisses were shamelessly lewd, all heat and desperation. Saliva glistened between your mouths whenever he pulled away, only to capture your lower lip again with another lingering suck that stole the air from your lungs.
Before long, the only sounds filling the car were the quiet, wet presses of your mouths and the uneven rhythm of your breathing.
You couldn't tell whether he was simply that good at kissing or if your lack of experience made every touch feel overwhelming. Either way, the way his hand remained wrapped around your jaw, firmly angling your head exactly where he wanted it, sent a shiver running down your spine.
A soft, helpless moan escaped your lips when you felt him spit into your mouth without breaking the kiss. The sensation sent heat unfurling through every inch of your body, your knees threatening to weaken even from where you sat on his lap.
Your thoughts dissolved into a haze, and before you realized it, the fingers that had been so carefully searching for the clasp of his necklace had gone slack, your mission slipping further out of reach with every slow, lingering pull of his mouth.
“Grind on me.” he groaned.
Your eyes widened, before you could even process his words, both of his hands settled around the curve of your hips, guiding your body into a slow, deliberate roll against his lap.
“W-Wait—”
His mouth found your neck, scattering soft, lingering kisses along the sensitive skin. Goosebumps rippled across your body as his lips traveled lower, his grip never once leaving your hips as he slowly rocked them back and forth, drawing helpless whimpers from your lips.
Heat rushed to your cheeks the moment you felt the firm outline of his hard cock pressing against the thin fabric of your panties.
“Roll your hips, baby.” he grunted.
His teeth grazed your neck before his tongue soothed the sting, the cool metal of his lip piercing dragging lightly over your throat.
Your eyes squeezed shut…losing yourself completely as you followed the guidance of his hands, the subtle throbs of his cock impossible to ignore through the layers separating your bodies.
“That’s it,” he praised, looking down at your rolling hips.
“Oh, gosh…” you moaned.
You couldn't comprehend how dirty and lewd this was, grinding against a stranger's cock while convincing yourself that you wouldn't fuck him.
His clothed mushroom tip grazed the apex between your thighs as he guided your hips through another slow rub, drawing a startled gasp from your lips. A wave of warmth unfurled low in your stomach, spreading until it settled heavily between your legs.
Fuck, you were getting so wet.
Your body burned with a growing tension you didn't know how to quiet. The fabric of your panties clung uncomfortably against your cunt. When his hands finally cupped your breasts over the thin fabric of your dress, a shaky breath caught in your throat.
Your fingers instinctively clutched at his shoulders for balance as he continued to maneuver your body with effortless ease.
“Oh my-”
His lips trailed lower…you sucked in a sharp breath when they reached the swell of your cleavage, your heart stumbling the moment you caught sight of his tongue slipping between the soft curve of your breasts, tasting the narrow valley created by the tight fabric hugging your chest.
“Hmm... so soft,” he murmured.
Before you could even process the praise, he leaned back just enough to gather saliva in his mouth, his cheeks hollowing before he leaned down and let a warm bead of spit fall between your breasts. It slowly trailed down the center of your cleavage, disappearing beneath the neckline of your dress.
A startled gasp escaped you, the shamelessness of it sent another rush of heat coursing through your body.
“Spread my spit, baby.” his voice dropped into a teasing murmur as he brushed a lingering kiss against your cheek. “I want you messy.”
He never stopped guiding your hips, slow, patient rubs against his lap while he watched you expectantly.
You swallowed thickly. It felt as though your body had slipped into a trance, your thoughts muffled beneath the haze he'd wrapped around you.
Almost absentmindedly, your fingers found the warmth between your breasts, gathering the wetness before slowly spreading his spit across the soft skin of your cleavage, his dark, heavy-lidded eyes following every hesitant movement.
Your gaze drifted downward, landing on the gold chain resting against his collarbone.
The necklace!
For a split second, you wanted to slap yourself.
You'd become so hopelessly lost in him that you'd nearly forgotten why you were here in the first place.
Trying to keep up the act, you smiled and gathered the warm trace of his spit onto your fingertips before slowly bringing them to your lips. A flicker of nervousness stirred in your chest as you parted your lips, letting your tongue glide languidly over your damp fingers, never once breaking eye contact with him.
His lips parted. “You like it?”
You nodded. “Hmm…”
“Want more?” he cooed, his voice rough with satisfaction.
Your cheeks heated, a little self-conscious under the way he stared at you before leaning in to kiss you again. You whimpered when he spat into your mouth while kissing you, trying to focus as your hands finally found the chain around his neck. Your fingers worked quickly beneath the curtain of his hair, your heart pounding so violently you feared he would hear it.
Then—the clasp gave.
Relief crashed over you.
You carefully eased the necklace free, letting the chain slip from your fingers onto the leather seat beside you with a faint clink before your hands returned to brace against his chest.
Your pulse hammered in your throat, so distracted by stealing the jewelry that you didn't feel his fingers hooking beneath the thin straps of your black dress until they were already sliding down. Cool air kissed your skin a second before you realized the straps had fallen from your shoulders, the dress bunched at your waist, your bra laid bare beneath his dark, hungry stare.
"Ohh—" a moan ripped from your lips when his hands grabbed your tits through the bra, his palms kneading the soft flesh as his fingers pinched and rolled your stiff nipples through the thin lace.
"So pretty," he praised, his eyes never leaving the swell of your breasts spilling over the cups.
His hand slid behind your back, his fingers flicking the clasp open. Your bra sprang loose, your tits bouncing free, your nipples peaked and aching.
“Keep grinding, baby.” he rasped.
Your hips moved before your brain could catch up, rolling against his lap. His hard cock formed a thick ridge beneath his pants, pressing right against your soaked panties.
The delicious friction made your cunt leak, slick pooling in the gusset as each slow roll of your hips rubbed your clit across his length until your panties clung to your wet, chubby slit.
“Mhm,” you whined as his mouth locked onto one nipple, his tongue lapping at the bud before sucking hard, his teeth scraping lightly while his other hand squeezed your breast, his fingers twisting the neglected nipple until it throbbed.
Wet sounds filled the car—the slurp of his mouth around your nipple and the squelch of your dripping cunt rubbing against his cock through the fabric.
You forced yourself to look down, your heavy-lidded eyes searching for anything that might help you finish what you had come here to do. Then your thigh brushed against the square outline beneath the fabric of his pants.
His wallet.
You drew in a shaky breath before rolling your hips against him with a little more desperation. A low groan vibrated against your nipple the moment he felt the change in your rhythm, the sound sending another wave of heat through your body.
A helpless whine slipped from your lips as your own hands wandered over him, trying to appear just as consumed by the moment. Your palms skimmed over his shoulders, down the firm planes of his chest, and lower still, making you swallow hard at the realization of just how toned he felt beneath your touch.
“Ouch,” you whimpered when his teeth suddenly bit into your nipple.
He only chuckled against your skin.
The sting disappeared beneath a lingering kiss before he lifted his head just enough to murmur.
“Slow down, baby. You're gonna make me cum.”
The teasing words had barely left his lips before his attention shifted back to your breast, his mouth closing around the swollen nipple with harsh, eager suction that made your thighs instinctively tense around him.
Even through the layers of his pants, you could feel how big and hard he was beneath you, the firm outline of his thick cock pressing insistently against your soaked panties with every shallow movement.
Fuck, focus Y/N.
His wallet had shifted dangerously close to the edge of his pocket, almost slipping free from the constant movement of your bodies.
You rolled your hips against him again…another soft moan escaping your lips as the friction sent a dizzying pulse of pleasure through you.
“Oh my…”
For a fleeting second, you almost forgot the wallet, your body threatening to lose the battle your mind was still desperately trying to win.
“Baby…” he groaned harshly.
His hands tightened around your waist, pinning your hips firmly in place before you could move against him again.
Confused, you instinctively tried to move again, but his hand beat you to it. It slipped between your thighs before firmly cupping your pussy over your soaked panties, his palm pressing against your wet cunt as his fingers slowly dragged against the damp fabric. A soft, unmistakable squelch filled the quiet cabin, and your breath caught in your throat.
“I said stay still, fuck.” he whispered, mercilessly squeezing your pussy through the thin fabric until another helpless moan spilled from your lips.
Your eyes fluttered shut on instinct, your mouth falling open as his slow, deliberate touch only made you wetter, the soaked fabric sticking embarrassingly to your folds with every movement of his hand.
A startled gasp escaped you when his free hand suddenly rose to your face, firmly squeezing your cheeks together.
“Keep your eyes open. Look at what I'm doing to you,” he commanded, his thumb finding your clit through the damp fabric and rubbing slow, lazy circles that sent a violent shiver through your body.
“Oh... gosh,” you whimpered, your voice barely above a breath.
Your thoughts were beginning to dissolve all over again until something caught your eye.
His wallet had finally slipped free from his pocket, landing quietly on the leather seat beside him. Relief surged through you, and you almost smiled in triumph, the sight nearly distracting you from your mission's success.
Before you could dwell on it, he hooked a finger beneath the damp gusset of your panties, flipping the fabric aside just enough to expose your slick pussy. His fingertips returned, meeting your bare cunt directly, and the sudden skin-to-skin contact tore another breathless gasp from your lips.
Your eyes rolled back as his long fingers slowly rubbed against your sensitive cunt. The cool metal of his rings grazed your slit with every stroke, sending a sharp shiver through your body and drawing another helpless whimper from your throat.
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Enjoying yourself?"
You could only nod, slow and breathless, your chest rising and falling beneath uneven breaths. Heat bloomed across your cheeks, your face burning from every filthy thing you had let him do to you.
"Yeah?" he murmured, his voice dropping into a whisper. "You like my fingers, baby?"
Before you could answer, his middle finger slowly pressed into your tight, untouched hole.
A broken whimper escaped you, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as your body instinctively tensed around the unfamiliar stretch. For a fleeting second, your hand nearly came up to push him away, your inexperience heightening every overwhelming sensation. But he caught your face first, his fingers tightening around your cheeks, forcing your gaze back to him.
He inhaled softly before hollowing his cheeks, gathering saliva in his mouth, then leaned closer and messily spat between your parted lips.
"Swallow."
You obeyed without hesitation, your throat bobbing as you swallowed, your walls fluttering tightly around his finger at the command.
His hand slipped lower, lifting the hem of your skirt before his gaze settled between your thighs. He watched with quiet fascination as his finger slowly disappeared inside your virgin hole before drawing back out again, only to repeat the motion at an unhurried pace.
"You're so tight, baby." he tilted his head, his eyes never leaving your pussy. "When was the last time you fucked?"
The question alone nearly brought tears to your eyes, embarrassment burning through you just as intensely as the confusing mixture of pain and pleasure his touch continued to pull from your body.
“L-Long time ago.”
As if Y/N!
He licked his lower lip, a quiet whimper slipping past your lips as the pad of his middle finger reached deeper inside your warm tight hole. His movements remained slow until his fingertip brushed against your spongy spot, the sharp ache of the stretch gradually melting into a pleasure so warm it made your body soften around him.
"Aww, is that why you're so tight, baby?” he whispered.
God, this was so wrong.
“Maybe you need me to stretch your hole again, hmm?" he cooed, lowering his head until his lips wrapped around your swollen nipple, sucking gently while his finger continued to work deeper into your tight cunt.
"Y-Yes," you mumbled incoherently, your rational thoughts dissolving as your hips instinctively rolled forward, chasing the slow rhythm of his finger.
The moment he felt you move, his free hand settled firmly around your waist, stilling you with ease. He released your nipple with a soft pop before a quiet chuckle escaped him, his dark eyes lifting to meet yours with unmistakable amusement.
"Patience, baby. I'm still having fun."
A pout tugged at your lips, ready to answer back, but the words never came. His left hand slipped between your thighs instead, slowly parting your folds before drawing back the hood revealing your glistening clit, exposing it completely beneath his dark gaze.
"Wanna suck this clit so bad," he whispered, his gaze fixed between your thighs as your clit pulsed beneath the weight of his stare.
He leaned down and spat over it, a slow trail of saliva slipping down your slit until it met the middle finger buried inside your hole. A helpless whimper caught in your throat, your eyes squeezing shut as he spread the saliva over your exposed clit with slow, pressured strokes, every messy rub sending another wave of pleasure through your body.
Both of his hands were devoted to you now. His tattooed fingers continued to work your tight hole with an unhurried rhythm while his other hand circled your swollen clit, spreading your growing wetness together with his saliva. His eyes never left your cunt, watching every tiny twitch, every shiver that rippled through you as though he wanted to memorize your pulsating pussy.
"You wanna cum?" he asked, lifting a brow as he watched your chest rise and fall with uneven breaths. His middle finger emerged coated in a thick ring of your white milky juices before disappearing back inside you, while your legs trembled uncontrollably beneath every slow sweep of his thumb across your swollen clit.
You nodded desperately, “Y-Yes…”
He pursed his lips, studying you for a long moment.
"You sure?"
"P-Please," you pleaded, your hips instinctively rolling in search of more.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" a small smile tugged at his lips, though there wasn't a trace of humor behind it.
Confusion barely had the chance to settle before he slowly inserted a second finger into your cunt.
A loud moan tore from your throat as the sudden stretch stole the air from your lungs. His fingers paused only briefly, allowing your body to adjust before they began to move together, scissoring you open with slow, rhythmic strokes while his other hand never stopped rubbing your clit.
The lingering ache of the stretch gradually melted beneath the mounting pleasure, your body surrendering to it completely. Your thighs quivered uncontrollably around his hand, your back arching as your orgasm crashed through you. Your eyes rolled back, your walls fluttering helplessly around his fingers while wave after wave of pleasure left your entire body trembling.
“Well done, baby.” he praised.
Even after the intensity began to ebb, your cunt continued to pulse around him, your legs still shaking from the aftershocks.
Only when your breathing had become nothing more than uneven gasps did he slowly withdraw his fingers from your hole, drawing another helpless whimper from your lips as the sudden emptiness met your lingering sensitivity.
Then he leaned in, his teeth grazed the shell of your ear in a soft bite before his lips brushed against it.
"I’m so proud." he whispered.
As your gaze drifted downward, it caught on the slight opening of his wallet, the sight striking you like a quiet reminder of why you had approached him in the first place.
Your fucking mission.
You bit down hard on your lower lip, gathering what little composure remained before forcing the words past your throat.
"C-Can I drink some water? I'm kinda thirsty," you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Your thighs were still trembling from your release, your heart pounding so loudly against your chest that you were certain he could hear it.
You expected him to refuse…Instead, he simply nodded.
"Hmm sure, baby. Let me get it for you."
His tongue swept across his lower lip before he gently tucked a few loose strands of hair away from your flushed cheeks, his touch unexpectedly tender as his eyes lingered on yours.
You swallowed hard, relief flooding through your body so quickly it almost made you dizzy.
"I'll wait for you here," you said with a small smile, leaning forward just enough to steal a quick kiss from his lips before he stood.
His eyes narrowed, smiling a little, but there was something in them that you couldn't quite pinpoint.
The moment he climbed out of the car, shutting the door behind him before disappearing into the noisy beer house in search of a bottle of water, you sprang into action.
You quickly fixed your dress before reaching for the thick gold necklace that had slipped onto the leather seat during everything that had happened between the two of you. Your fingers wrapped around it before darting toward his wallet, still resting exactly where you had dropped it after deliberately sitting on it when you asked for water.
Your pulse thundered in your ears as your gaze frantically swept across the interior of the car, searching for anything else of value. It didn't take long before your eyes landed on a small, heavy bag tucked beneath the passenger seat.
Without wasting another second—or even bothering to look more....you snatched it as well, clutching the necklace, the wallet, and the bag tightly against your chest before quietly pushing the car door open.
With shaky, trembling hands, you slipped out of the vehicle and hurried toward the nearest sprawling tree beside the parking lot, its thick trunk shielding you from anyone who might glance in your direction. Only then did you allow yourself to stop, your chest rising and falling with uneven breaths as you hugged your stolen belongings close, desperately trying to calm the frantic pounding of your heart.
The necklace alone felt expensive in your hands, its weight unmistakable, and you couldn't help but admire the rich gleam of the gold beneath the parking lot lights.
This has to be high-karat.
Your eyes practically sparkled at the thought, relief and triumph swelling inside your chest as you silently congratulated yourself. You had actually managed to steal from him without getting fucked... and without getting caught.
Almost.
A small smile tugged at your lips as you slipped the thick gold necklace into your pocket, the reassuring weight of it pressing against your thigh.
Your attention soon drifted to the heavy bag you had grabbed from beneath the seat, curiosity getting the better of you. You crouched beneath the tree and slowly pulled the zipper open, your brows knitting together at the sight of something black and metallic nestled inside.
Frowning, you reached to get a better look, only for your breath to catch in your throat.
It was a gun.
What the fuck?
Your hands instantly began to shake. The bag slipped from your grasp, hitting the ground with a heavy thud that echoed far louder than it should have in the quiet of the parking lot.
You stared at it in horror before your gaze darted to the wallet still clutched tightly against your chest, your pulse pounding so violently it made your fingers numb.
"Oh God... this is a bad idea," you whispered to yourself, panic clawing its way up your throat.
For one reckless moment, you considered running back, returning the necklace, the wallet, the bag….everything—and pretending none of this had ever happened.
Maybe you could leave them inside his car before he noticed. Maybe you could still walk away.
But it was already too late.
If there was one thing Hanni had drilled into your head from the very beginning, it was this: once you stole something, you never gave it back. Going back wasn't bravery—it was stupidity.
And stupidity was exactly how thieves got caught.
With trembling hands, you slowly opened his wallet, your brows immediately knitting together when an identification card tucked behind a gleaming gold badge came into view.
Your stomach dropped. This wasn't a wallet at all—it was a badge holder.
A cold chill crept down your spine as your fingers shakily flipped the leather, your eyes scanning every detail printed across the identification. The words blurred together at first, your racing heart making it impossible to focus, until your gaze landed on the line that mattered most.
CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT
Rank: Captain | Name: Jeon Jungkook
For a long, terrifying second, your mind went completely blank, your pulse pounding so violently it drowned out every sound around you.
"F-Fuck! Oh God—fuck!"
The words tumbled out in a frantic whisper as your hands shook so violently you could barely keep hold of the badge holder.
Your breathing grew shallow, your mind racing through every possible escape, each one ending worse than the last.
You stared at the polished badge in horror, your heart threatening to beat straight out of your chest, when the sound of approaching footsteps suddenly reached your ears.
Panic surged through your body, and you instinctively turned, ready to run for your life, but a firm hand wrapped around your wrist before you could take a single step.
"Where are you going?" he asked with a quiet chuckle from behind you, amusement lacing his voice.
You froze.
Your gaze remained fixed straight ahead, too terrified to look back at him. Cold sweat trickled down your spine as your heartbeat thundered in your ears.
The heavy bag still lay on the ground at your feet. The gold necklace weighed against your pocket. And clutched tightly between your trembling fingers was his badge holder, still opened to the identification that had shattered every ounce of confidence you had only moments ago.
You had been fucking caught.
Not just by any random stranger.
But by a goddamn police captain.
"I got your water, baby," he said, his voice coated in quiet amusement. You flinched the moment the cold bottle brushed against the back of your thighs, the chill a cruel contrast to the heat of your panic.
"O-Officer, I—"
"You forgot something, didn't you?" he whispered against your ear, his grip never loosening around your wrist.
The bottle of water lazily traced the length of your trembling thigh, as though he had all the time in the world.
Your eyes squeezed shut, your legs threatened to give out beneath you, hot tears gathering until they spilled freely down your cheeks. Every frantic thought crashed into the next, leaving you unable to form a single coherent sentence.
He leaned in even closer, his warm breath ghosting just below your ear.
"You forgot my wallet, baby." his voice dropped into a slow drawl. "That's my badge holder."
A broken sob caught in your throat. Your future flashed before your eyes in vivid, terrifying fragments.
You could already see the cold metal of handcuffs locking around your wrists, the flashing red and blue lights, the backseat of a patrol car, a holding cell, your family finding out, your future slipping through your fingers before you had even been given the chance to fight for it. Everything you had worked so hard for, every dream you had stubbornly clung to despite your circumstances, all of it seemed to crumble into pieces in the span of a few unbearable seconds.
You had just thrown your entire life away.
“P-Please, I-’’
"Is my poor baby too dumb, or does that pretty little head of yours just want to get fucked?"
You shook your head frantically, tears spilling faster down your cheeks. "N-No, no, Officer, please... I'm sorry. It was a mistake—"
A startled gasp escaped you when he suddenly spun you around, your back pressing against the rough bark of the tree. Your tear-clouded eyes instantly met his dark ones, the amusement lingering in them only making the panic clawing at your chest grow worse.
He raised a brow, studying your face for a long, agonizing moment.
"Aww, look at you…so scared, baby." he cooed.
“I-I’m sorry-”
“Want me to give you a chance?’’ he tilted his head.
Hope bloomed inside your chest so suddenly it almost hurt.
Jungkook took another step forward, his broad frame caging you against the tree until there was nowhere left to run. Your entire body trembled beneath his gaze, your heart pounding so violently you could barely hear yourself think, and you looked up at him with desperate, pleading eyes, clinging to the smallest possibility that he might actually let you go.
"P-Please, Officer… I-I'm sorry..." you stammered, the words tumbling over one another in your haste. "I-I know it was wrong, a-and that—"
‘’Run.”
Your lips parted in disbelief.
"W-What?"
He slowly licked his lower lip, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth that carried no warmth whatsoever. Stepping closer until there wasn't even a breath of space left between you, he brushed the pad of his thumb across your trembling lips, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Run, baby. Run as fast as you can.” his voice dropped into a low murmur, his tone as though he were talking to a child. "And when I catch you, I'm gonna take you to prison. I'll fuck you every day behind those rusty metal bars. I'll use your tight little pussy until your hole is gaping and leaking. Maybe I'll even let my comrades fuck you too. We'll take turns fucking that slutty, manipulative pussy of yours."
Desperation made people do reckless things.
It silenced reason, drowned out fear, and left nothing behind but the instinct to survive.
You spun around and bolted before your mind had the chance to catch up, your legs carrying you as fast as they could through the dimly lit streets. Instead of following the brighter roads, you veered into the narrow, shadowed alleyways, your panicked thoughts convincing you that the light was far more dangerous than the dark.
People could help you—but the moment they learned why you were running, they wouldn't see a terrified woman.
They would see a thief.
A criminal…and they would hand you right back to him.
Your lungs burned, each desperate breath sharper than the last, your feet throbbing against the unforgiving pavement as you forced yourself to keep going. When a tall chain-link fence came into view, fear surged through your exhausted body. You stumbled toward it, your shaking hands already reaching for the metal, frantically searching for a way to climb over it.
You never got the chance.
A powerful hand suddenly seized both of your wrists from behind, wrenching them backward before you could react. A startled cry tore from your throat as your body was dragged away from the fence, only to be slammed against it a heartbeat later.
“L-Let me go!” you cried.
The rough metal dug painfully into your cheek, your breath knocked from your lungs as he forced your arms higher behind your back. Then you heard it—
A sharp metallic click…cold steel closed around your wrist.
You were handcuffed.
He secured the other cuff around the metal fence, leaving your wrists restrained above your head. The cold steel bit into your skin as you instinctively struggled against it, your cheek pressed harshly against the chain-link, the rough metal scraping your flushed skin every time you tried to pull away. The handcuffs refused to budge, each desperate tug only making them dig in deeper.
"N-No... no, please," you cried, your voice breaking into helpless sobs.
Instead of hurting you, he reached up and gently combed a few loose strands of hair away from your face, the unexpected tenderness making your entire body flinch. His fingers lingered for a moment, idly twirling a lock of your hair around them before giving it a soft tug.
"Shh, it’s okay…" he said in a mocking tone.
"I-I’m sorry, please…I’ll do anything—"
The plea died on your lips when you felt him lower himself behind you.
“Anything, baby?” he whispered.
He settled onto one knee before slowly gathering the hem of your dress, inch by inch, until your damp panties were fully exposed beneath the cool night air. His large hands slid down to your thighs, spreading your legs apart with an effortless firmness that left your body trembling against the restraint.
Your eyes widened as you pulled uselessly at the handcuffs, your legs instinctively trying to close, but there was nowhere to go. A warm tongue suddenly pressed against the fabric between your thighs, dragging slowly over your sticky panties.
His nose remained buried in your tight hole, drawing in a slow, deep breath as though savoring every scent of you. His tongue dragged languidly along your slit from behind, the damp fabric of your panties doing little to dull the sensation.
"O-Oh gosh-" you cried, fresh tears spilling down your flushed cheeks as you felt him inhale against your clothed cunt again. His tongue swept over you once more, leaving your panties even wetter than before.
“Let me play with you.” he murmured before diving in.
You bit down hard on your lip, another wave of warmth pooling between your thighs despite yourself. More tears slipped from your eyes, the overwhelming pleasure tangling with the fear coursing through your body.
I am not enjoying this, I am not-
A low groan rumbled behind you as he spread your legs farther apart. His pointed nose brushed against your puckered hole, inhaling deeply.
You craned your neck to look around, but there was no one in sight. Only the lonely yellow glow of a streetlamp stretched across the empty street, casting long shadows around the two of you.
When he flipped your panties aside, you instinctively tried to close your legs, but a startled gasp escaped your lips as his palm suddenly came down against your inner thigh with a sharp smack, the sting urging your legs back open for him.
“Open up for me, baby. Let me taste your little pussy,” he murmured, giving your thigh another light tap as he silently coaxed you to spread yourself wider.
You were getting wetter, but the thought of someone's tongue directly against your pussy was beyond your virgin imagination.
When you still didn't move, a quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest.
You felt him rise behind you, the warmth of his body disappearing for only a brief moment before the unmistakable click of metal made your breath hitch. Before you even had the chance to turn your head, the cold barrel of the gun was pressed against your temple.
A broken cry caught in your throat, your entire body trembling.
“W-What-”
"Spread your legs."
His voice was firm, leaving no room for hesitation. The barrel pressed more insistently against your temple, and with another shaky sob, your knees slowly fell farther apart.
A satisfied hum vibrated from his chest. Only then did he pull the gun away, tucking it back into the holster at the back of his belt before lowering himself between your thighs once more. His hands wrapped around them, holding you open exactly how he wanted, and the moment he buried his face between your legs, a deep groan escaped him.
“Oh, gosh!” you moaned.
You were already leaking, his broad tongue dragged slowly up and down your chubby, swollen folds before slipping between them, teasing your slit as it delved deeper, massaging your inner walls with slow, deliberate strokes that only left you wetter.
“Pretty.” he leaned back and spat onto your cunt, watching the thick strand of saliva mingle with your slick wetness. “Do you regret what you did, baby?”
His fingers hooked beneath your outer lips, spreading them apart just enough to watch his saliva disappear deeper into your cunt. He spat again, his gaze fixed on the way it slipped between your folds, leaving your sensitive inner walls glistening.
“Y-Yes,” you moaned shamelessly, the torture only making you wetter.
“Would you let me do anything I want?” he asked, staring at your fluttering cunt.
You bit your lip, feeling your milky juices drip from every degrading thing he'd been saying to you.
“Yes.” you said in a tiny voice.
He chuckled, “You wanted to be used like this, didn't you?”
He leaned in, his tongue flattening as he licked from your perineum to your clit in one slow, vulgar stroke, spreading his spit until his own drool began to trail down his chin.
“You wanted this…you sat on my lap, ground your filthy cunt against my cock, acted like a good little decoy so you could rob me. But your hole's been thanking me the whole time, hasn't it?”
You shut your eyes tightly when you felt him continuously spitting on your cunt, your pussy was getting so wet that you felt it dripping on your inner thighs down to your ankles.
He held your folds apart, leaving you completely exposed for his hungry gaze. Leaning back, he watched the way they trembled and pulsed beneath his eyes before leaning down again, his tongue already darting out to lap up every drop of your juices. Each time he swallowed, he would only spit over you again, coating you until you were slick enough for him to start all over.
Your eyes widened as the muzzle of the gun pressed against your inner thigh, cool, unforgiving steel sending a shiver through your body. It slowly slid higher until it settled against your entrance, the tip quickly growing slick with your wetness.
"O-Officer—"
“Shh, you wanted me to catch you, didn’t you? To rape your thief little pussy.” he mocked, his eyes fixed on the way the tip of the gun glistened with your milky juices as he slowly dragged it up and down your chubby slit.
Desperation was a frightening thing.
It stripped away reason piece by piece until all that remained was the helpless anticipation of whatever came next.
When you didn't answer, too absorbed in the feeling of the foreign gun against your pussy, he pressed it harder against you, drawing a pained whimper from your lips as tears stung your eyes.
"Answer me when I'm talking to you," he said firmly, applying just a little more pressure.
"Y-Yes," you whimpered.
He tilted his head. "Yes, what?"
You bit your lip. "Y-Yes, O-Officer."
He hummed in approval before pulling the gun away. His tongue darted out to taste the tip, sucking your wetness from the cold metal before releasing it with a soft pop.
A low groan rumbled from his chest as he buried himself between your thighs once more, diving back into your exposed pussy with relentless hunger. The obscene sounds of slurping, sucking, and the occasional spit echoed through the place, each one making you feel weaker, more helpless beneath him.
You bit down hard on your lip as you felt your orgasm creeping closer. You tried to hold it back, to keep control, but your body betrayed you.
Every flick of his tongue, every slow suck, every warm trail of spit sent another wave of pleasure crashing through you, making your pussy convulse beneath his tongue.
“F-Fuck-” you whimpered.
Your thighs trembled uncontrollably, your arms ached against the restraints, and your eyes rolled back as the pulsing sensation deep within you grew stronger with every passing second. You wanted to pull away from his mouth, to escape the overwhelming pleasure, but his grip remained firm, holding you exactly where he wanted as he sucked out every last tremor, refusing to let you move even as the overstimulation left your body trembling.
“Mhm, you taste so good, baby,” he whispered, leaning back just enough to pinch your folds together, as though squeezing every last drop of your milky white juices from your pussy before leaning in again to catch it on his tongue.
A helpless whimper escaped your lips. Your legs were on the verge of giving out beneath you, your arms still held captive by the restraints while your pussy throbbed with overwhelming sensitivity. As he rose to his feet, his palm landed against your cunt in a careless slap, making you flinch before he lazily wiped the sheen of your juices from the corner of his mouth.
His hand found your hair again, fingers threading through the strands before tightening into a firm fist. He tugged until your head tipped back, exposing the line of your throat, and his lips brushed against your tear-dampened cheek.
“Wanna steal more, baby?”
His grip twisted tighter, pulling your head back until your neck arched painfully.
He slowly dragged his tongue along the salty trail of your tears, licking your cheek with slow strokes, savoring the taste of your cries as another quiet hum of approval rumbled in his chest.
You whimpered, your body trembling as you felt the hard outline of his clothed bulge press against the plush of your ass. He slowly ground his erection against you, a low grunt vibrating beneath your ear while his hand kept a firm hold on your hair, tugging your head back just enough for him to suck and leave harsh bites along your neck.
“What do you want, baby?” he whispered, grinding his cock more firmly against your bare ass. “My money? My jewelry?”
“O-Officer-”
His fist tightened in your hair, forcing another helpless whimper from your lips as he dragged his tongue along your throat, feeling the way you swallowed hard beneath him. “You wanted all of it, didn't you?”
His teeth sank into your neck once more as his clothed bulge rutted harder against the cleft of your ass, the seam of his pants catching against your skin with every slow roll of his hips. At the same time, his free hand slipped beneath your dress, yanking the fabric higher before grabbing a full handful of your bare ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to leave bruises.
"My pretty, pretty thief," he praised, pressing a kiss to your cheek as his hips rolled against you with even more force.
He wrenched his pants open just enough for his hard cock to spring free, the heated length slapping against one ass cheek before the other. Pre-cum glistened over the swollen tip as he slowly ground the shaft along the plush curve of your ass, coating your skin with every deliberate roll of his hips.
"Feel that? I'm so hard for you, baby."
A helpless mewl slipped past your lips as you weakly shook your head, your entire body trembling while he continued rubbing against your ass.
“Fuck, you make me so fucking horny.” he grunted.
Your cheeks burned crimson, the same flush spreading across your neck, and another whimper escaped you when he suddenly jerked your head back by the hair.
"Grind back, baby, or I'll fuck this tight little ass of yours."
You cried harder, your body trembling as you reluctantly began to move your ass against his cock. A deep groan escaped him, his right hand settling firmly on your hip as he looked down, watching the way his hard length slid slowly through the cleft of your ass with every hesitant grind.
He spat over the curve of your ass for added lubrication, and a helpless cry caught in your throat when you felt the warm saliva land against your puckered rim. Despite the humiliation, your pussy only grew wetter.
His tattooed hand suddenly snaked around your waist, trailing lower until it reached your cunt. You gasped as his fingers cupped your pussy before hooking between your folds, spreading your lips apart into a lewd V-shape for him to admire.
“Look down and watch your clit, baby.” he rasped, tilting your head down so your gaze fell between your legs.
“P-Please...” you croaked, your body growing weaker by the second, your pussy aching for more even as the rest of you threatened to give out.
“Wanna be fucked so bad, huh?”
You gasped as his middle finger suddenly pushed between the V-shaped hold of his fingers, slipping inside your tight cunt. Your walls fluttered helplessly around the thick digit as he slowly worked it deeper.
“Oh! Mhmp!” you screamed.
His cock left your ass, the slick tip dragging slowly down until it notched against your entrance, smearing pre-cum and his spit over your swollen folds.
“Gonna fuck you good, baby…you’ve been a very bad girl.” he yanked your hair, tilting your head back as his tongue traced a slow path from your neck to the shell of your ear. “Need to fuck some sense into you, hmm?’’
“Mhmp!” you whimpered.
“Shh... moan for me, baby. It'll feel good.” his finger pressed deeper one last time, stretching your walls before he slowly withdrew it. The emptiness lasted only a heartbeat before he replaced it with the thick, leaking head of his cock, nudging its way against your entrance.
“Ahhh!” you screamed at the sudden stretch, his thick cock forcing its way into your tight pussy until you could feel every pulsing vein dragging against your walls as he pushed deeper.
He thrust halfway, then stopped, watching your cunt spasm around him, a thin ribbon of milky white release clinging to his shaft like a ring.
“Fuck, you’re so tight.” he slowly pulled back before driving into you harder, bottoming out in one deep thrust, his pelvis slamming against your ass hard enough to make the fence rattle.
“Need to use this cunt every day. Maybe I’ll let my comrades fuck this tight little cunt so they can loosen you up for me, yeah?” he grunted, pushing even deeper until his balls rested snug against your cunt, the coarse hair at the base of his cock brushing against the curve of your ass with every shallow grind.
“U-Ugh, p-please...” you screamed, trying to wriggle, but he only answered with a low grunt against your ear. Then, without warning, he withdrew his cock completely.
For one fleeting moment, you thought he was finally going to let you go.
But your eyes widened the instant you heard the unmistakable clink of his leather belt being unclasped.
Your eyes widened as you felt him wrap the leather around your neck, fastening it just snug enough for him to tug whenever your cries grew too loud, cutting off your words with every sharp pull.
“Behave, baby.” he chuckled, easing himself inside you once more while keeping a firm grip on the belt for leverage. Every now and then, he gave it another deliberate tug, silencing your screams as his hips continued to drive into you.
The moment his hips began to roll against yours, your eyes fluttered back, pleasure blooming beneath the sting until you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
“O-Oh, O-Officer!” a shaky sob escaped your lips, born as much from the humiliation as the sensation itself. Your pussy ached for more, clenching helplessly around his thick girth, betraying you with every pulse.
A quiet chuckle rumbled from behind you. His arm slid around your waist, holding you firmly against him as he circled his hips into yours, each relentless thrust threatening to lift your body off your feet.
“Is my baby enjoying this?” he whispered, giving the leather another measured yank, just enough to cut your sob short. The strap bit into the flushed skin of your throat as his hips snapped forward again, his balls slapping wetly against your cunt with every forceful thrust.
“This is turning you on, huh?”
You shook your head, but your pussy only grew wetter, your cries slowly dissolving into helpless moans as he continued to fuck you from behind.
“Want me to stop?” he whispered.
“N-No, Officer.” you whimpered, tears slipping down your cheeks as you gave a slow, trembling shake of your head.
“Yeah? You like getting used?”
He gave the belt another sharp tug, cutting off your whimpers before loosening it just enough to let a broken moan spill from your lips. Then he drove into you even deeper, his mushroom tip grinding against your spongy walls until you could feel your own milky juices coating his shaft.
"Gonna lock you up in a cell, baby… you'll be the precinct's little fucktoy."
The moment his thick head brushed against your g-spot, your entire body spasmed around his cock. A harsh groan tore from his throat as your walls clamped down on him, forcing him to pull out almost immediately. His movements turned urgent, one hand fumbling for the keys clipped to his belt while the other steadied you. Your hazy eyes fluttered shut as you felt the handcuffs finally come undone from your wrists.
You thought he was done.
A weak gasp escaped your lips when he suddenly flipped you over to face him, your exhausted arms falling limply to your sides as he stripped away the rest of your dress. Without a word, he lifted you with effortless strength and pinned you against the cold metal fence before guiding his hard cock back inside you. A broken whimper slipped from your throat at the oversensitivity left behind by your previous orgasm, your body instinctively tensing around him as his mouth found your exposed nipples, sucking them greedily while he chased his own release.
Your body bounced helplessly with every powerful thrust, like a toy being used exactly as he pleased. Your tongue nearly lolled from your parted lips, your mind reduced to nothing but scattered pleasure as his larger frame manhandled yours with ease. Low grunts and strained moans vibrated against your swollen nipples, each sound muffled by the way his mouth refused to leave them.
A rough growl tore from his throat as his climax finally overtook him. You felt the thick warmth of his release spilling deep inside your already used hole, his hips continuing to roll against yours in slow, deep motions, as though determined to push every last drop of his cum even deeper.
“Fuck, baby,” his teeth sank into the soft flesh of your breast, the sharp sting blending seamlessly with the lingering waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
Some of it trickled down the insides of your thighs, warm against your skin. Your eyes fluttered, barely able to stay open…your body hanging limply in his grasp.
When he finally set you back on your feet, your legs nearly gave out beneath you. Before you could steady yourself, he was already kneeling between your thighs again, firmly spreading them apart as though he hadn't just reduced them to trembling.
“W-Wait-” you panicked.
A helpless cry escaped your lips when his mouth found your swollen pussy once more, lapping up the mixture of his release and your milky wetness, slurping every drop with relentless hunger. The overstimulation sent your body reeling, your clit already so unbearably sensitive that the moment his tongue slid upward to wrap around it, your pussy pulsed against his mouth, another orgasm crashing through you before you could stop it.
He looked up at you with heavy lidded eyes, watching every twitch and shudder that overtook your body as you came around his mouth.
You could see the way his cheeks hollowed with every slow suck on your clit, and somehow the sight of his discarded gun and badge lying carelessly on the floor beside him made the moment feel even dirtier—
A police officer on his knees, devotedly eating out the very thief he had caught.
Only when he was satisfied did he rise to his feet. His hand slipped into your hair, gently tugging you toward him until his lips claimed yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as he kissed you with greedy desperation. Your eyelids grew heavy, your knees threatening to buckle again, your body barely able to remain upright.
You flinched when you felt his hardened cock brush against your inner thighs even as he continued kissing you, a wave of panic surging through your exhausted body. Your pussy already felt swollen and unbearably sensitive, every nerve still humming from the relentless orgasms he had pulled from you.
As though sensing the fear creeping into your expression, he let out a low chuckle, slowly pulling away from your lips to study your face.
"Aww, is my baby tired?" he cooed, the words dripping with mock honey as he nudged your chin upward.
You shook your head, your body instinctively yielding to whatever he was going to do next.
The corner of his mouth twitched before he bit down on his lower lip, your quiet submission enough to make his cock throb.
"Kneel for me."
Your knees trembled beneath you as you slowly lowered yourself, a startled gasp escaping your lips the moment the swollen tip dragged a lazy streak of pre-cum across your cheek.
"Open up, baby…daddy's not done." he gathered your hair into one hand with a gentleness that belonged to a lover rather than the man standing before you, tilting your face toward his groin, a smile tugging at his lips that never quite reached the darkness in his eyes.
"Clean up the mess you made, hmm? Open wide for Officer."
The swollen head nudged past your lips, and a mock-pitying sigh slipped from him as your mouth slowly yielded around his cock, your tongue flattening instinctively beneath the weight before a helpless gag caught in your throat.
"There, there," he murmured, his fingers absentmindedly stroking your hair. "Suck nice and slow, pretty girl."
He began to rock his hips into your mouth in slow, shallow thrusts, while his free hand continued to pet your hair with a tenderness so painfully at odds with the degradation spilling from his lips.
"That's it, baby," he praised softly. "Tongue flat, like the dumb, cute slut you are."
He pushed his cock deeper until the swollen mushroom tip nudged the back of your throat, the prominent veins along his shaft dragging against the roof of your mouth with every slow thrust, the upward curve making each movement reach even deeper.
"I can give you everything you want, baby," he whispered, a groan slipping past his lips as his thrusts gradually became sloppier, his grip on your hair tightening with every push. Saliva gathered at the corners of your mouth as you fought the urge to choke, wet, muffled gargles escaping your throat each time he buried himself deeper. Your eyes burned, quickly turning red as tears pooled along your lash line.
He cradled your hair once more, the tenderness of the gesture clashing with the relentless pace of his hips.
"I can provide for you... spoil you with all of my money," he murmured, easing himself forward until your nose brushed against the coarse hair at his pelvis.
He held your face snugly in place for a brief moment before slowly rolling his hips, then gently pulled you back just enough to let you catch your breath, his saliva-slick cock dragging across your flushed cheeks.
"Do you want that?" he asked, tilting his head as he lazily ground his cock against your swollen cheek.
You nodded eagerly, your tear-filled eyes never leaving his.
He chuckled, giving your cheek a light tap with the head of his cock. "Do you understand me, baby?"
You pouted…your cheeks burning red, your eyes swollen, your lips wet with his precum.
“Mhm..”
“Mhm?” he chuckled.
He bit his lower lip as he stared down at you, quietly admiring the mess he'd made. “Cute.”
Without warning, he yanked your head forward until he was fully seated inside your mouth, your nose pressed into his pubic hair as his balls slapped against your chin with each shallow roll of his hips.
"Gurk—gurk—"
You choked around him, tears immediately spilling down your cheeks, but the only response he gave was a deep groan as he slowly began to fuck your face, each thrust forcing another muffled gargle from your throat.
"Fuck, baby...I'm gonna cum."
He pulled out just enough to lean down and spit onto your tongue before pushing his cock back into your mouth in one smooth thrust, the loose belt still hanging around your neck, its end dragging through the dirt every time your head was forced forward.
You gagged helplessly around him, your cheeks hollowing as your eyes rolled back, your head rocking back and forth with every relentless thrust while he used your mouth however he pleased. And when you felt his rhythm begin to falter, his thrusts growing rougher and increasingly sloppy, he suddenly pulled free with a low groan. Before you could even catch your breath, he hauled you to your feet, one arm wrapped firmly around your body as he guided his cock against your cunt, his other hand positioning himself before pushing his hard cock back into your tight hole.
“I’m gonna cum inside baby, a reward for being a good little toy for daddy.”
A broken cry escaped your lips as he buried himself to the hilt, his body shuddering the moment he came. Thick, warm spurts filled you one after another while your body trembled from the lingering overstimulation, his hips continuing to jerk and roll against yours as he emptied every last drop inside you.
"These are worth thousands, Y/N! Oh my God."
Hanni's eyes widened in utter disbelief, her gaze sweeping across the worn wooden table as though she couldn't decide which stolen treasure to look at first.
A thick leather wallet, its compartments stuffed with crisp bills. Heavy gold necklaces lay tangled together beside matching rings, each piece gleaming with the unmistakable richness of high-karat gold. A limited-edition watch rested nearby, its polished face catching the kitchen light with every slight movement. And a duffel bag overflowed with expensive perfumes, bottle after bottle worth more than most people's monthly salary.
A slow smile tugged at your lips as your gaze wandered over Jungkook's belongings scattered across the table.
You never told Hanni that you'd gotten caught.
Instead, you let her believe everything had gone according to plan.
Desperation has a way of rewriting your morals. It convinces good people to cross lines they once swore they would never touch, somehow making it feel like the only choice left.
He had given you far more than you had ever planned on stealing.
Tucked beneath your bed, hidden inside an old shoebox, were stacks of cash and signed checks worth enough to keep you comfortable for a long while—buying you the time to find a better path for yourself.
You hadn't even told Hanni about them.
Not because you didn't trust her, but because you knew the moment she saw that kind of money, questions would follow. Questions you couldn't answer without admitting where it had come from. So you kept the cash hidden, the checks tucked safely beneath it, and carried the secret alone.
He still hadn't turned you over to the authorities, even though it was painfully obvious he'd known exactly what kind of person you were from the very beginning.
From the moment he'd let you reach for the clasp of his necklace, he'd already known.
No high-ranking police officer—especially not a captain…would've failed to notice what you were trying to do. He had seen through you from the very beginning, long before you'd ever managed to slip a single thing into your hands.
Why did he let you?
You smiled seductively, slipping the watch and wallet beneath your dress before taking another sip of your now-warm beer, your gaze lingering on your target, who was far too drunk to notice the way your attention had never truly been on him.
Perhaps you hadn't changed.
Because here you were, stealing again…chasing the same thrill, the same rush, while somewhere beneath every excuse you made for yourself, another reason quietly waited.
Maybe you wanted to see him again.
You left the crowded club with the stolen watch and wallet hidden beneath your dress, weaving through the lingering crowd until the music faded behind you. The cool night air greeted your flushed skin as you made your way toward the smoking area, where you and Hanni had agreed to meet.
You had been stealing for six months now.
You managed to steal from a shopping mall, a restaurant, a boutique, and even a high-end store—your usual targets where men were rarely involved.
Tonight, you decided to try flirting again…attempting to seduce someone despite the fact that your only experience had been with him.
Before you could even pull out your phone to text Hanni, someone pushed you against the cold brick wall.
Familiar dark, round eyes stared back at you, the same pierced lips curled around a cigarette as smoke drifted lazily into the night. Tattooed arms caged you in on either side, leaving nowhere for you to go.
Your eyes widened.
Seeing him dressed in the crisp navy uniform of a police captain stole the air from your lungs.
Gold captain's bars gleamed from the epaulets on his shoulders, while a polished metal badge rested proudly over his chest. His duty belt sat low around his waist, crowded with the familiar weight of handcuffs, a radio, holster, and the rest of the equipment that came with his authority. The neatly pressed fabric, the black tie tucked beneath the collar, the nameplate pinned above his pocket—it all transformed the man you remembered into someone far more intimidating.
Power looked infuriatingly good on him.
Before you could utter a single word, his left hand slipped under your dress. Your breath caught as his fingers found the watch and wallet strapped against your thigh with effortless precision.
“Looks like my baby didn't learn her lesson, hmm?”
summary: desperate to see if a man devoted to god will unravel, you test his faith with your sweet, deceptive innocence—seducing fr. jeon until his devotion no longer belongs to god…but to you.
warnings: priest jungkook x sinful reader, explicit sexual content, forbidden relationship, candle wax play, rosary choking, edging, clit rubbing, filthy sexual desires, spitting, degradation, mock sympathy, pussy eating, condescending dirty talk, blow job, cum eating, usage of whore & slut, praising, cum eating, m. masturbation, manipulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, overstimulation, fingering, penetrative sex, creampie.
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂˚₊┈┈୨୧┈┈‧₊˚⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂
Temptation, they said, was the devil's favorite weapon…subtle, patient, and often disguised as something beautiful.
Your beauty was the kind that invited sin. Like a priceless painting in a museum, admired by many but forbidden to touch, existing only to test the restraint of those who stood before it.
Yet despite the effect you seemed to have on everyone else, Fr. Jeon remained frustratingly untouched by it all. Men had always looked twice, their attention lingering long enough to make their interest known. But his eyes never lingered on you. They would meet yours for a fleeting moment before moving on, calm and unwavering, carrying the same gentle warmth they offered every soul that walked through the church doors.
Pathetic.
Wearing a long white virginal skirt, a matching conservative blouse, and your hair falling neatly down your waist, you grabbed your purse before heading downstairs to meet Sana.
“Glad you finally wore something decent,” Sana commented with a sheepish smile when she saw you stepping out of your house.
You pouted, looking down at the modest skirt fluttering around your ankles. “My cute dresses are decent too, you know.”
You weren’t a very religious person, but when your friend Sana told you she wanted to join the church choir, you were more than happy to come with her.
Between the two of you, she was the religious one—always carrying a small pocket bible in her purse, always reminding you to watch your words and actions because God was watching.
A lot of your friends were confused about how the two of you became so close. You were playful, rebellious, and bratty—more of a bad influence beside someone so polite and devout. But despite your mischievous nature, you were very sweet, friendly and charming. At university, you were one of the popular students, with plenty of friends and a reputation as a social butterfly.
When you first met Sana, you hadn’t expected the two of you to get along. She was a new student, still adjusting to the unfamiliar environment and trying to find her place among the other students. Being the friendly social butterfly that you were, you became the first person to approach her.
Your personalities couldn’t have been more different. Sana was calm, reserved, and quiet, while you were bold, bright, and loud.
Despite being complete opposites, the two of you grew unexpectedly close. You liked Sana because she was a breath of fresh air. Her calmness grounded the chaos within you, while your playfulness brought balance and excitement to her peaceful life.
Ever since you became best friends, you often accompanied her to church. Although you looked somewhat out of place trailing behind her while she helped with various church duties, volunteer work, and parish activities...you still enjoyed spending time with her.
You liked how she always listened to your rants and endless rambles. Following her around while she busied herself carrying boxes and helping wherever she could, your kitten heels clicked softly against the church’s marbled floors, and the longest dress you could find in your closet swayed gently with every step. As unusual as it felt to be dressed so modestly, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed these moments with Sana.
Your usual style of dressing didn’t exactly align with the church’s dress code… you had to trade your short skirts, midriff-baring tops, tight dresses, and cute spaghetti-strap tops for something more... demure.
At first, you tried to argue against it, but Sana quickly reminded you that those clothes weren’t appropriate for church. And of course, you had no choice but to listen unless you wanted another lecture about being a poor instrument of the Lord.
“Since when did you become a singer?” you teased as the two of you entered the church alongside a few parishioners and choir members.
Sana was dressed similarly to you, wearing a long skirt paired with a flowy long-sleeved blouse. In her right hand, she carried a small booklet filled with choir songs.
She pouted. “I can sing a bit, you know.” she opened the booklet and flipped through its pages. “As long as I’m serving the Lord, then no voice shall sound bad.”
You chuckled, already accustomed to her holy little remarks.
“If you say so,” you sang back playfully, following her up to the choir loft. You offered a polite smile to the other choir members, who were already busy practicing.
Since you weren’t actually there to join the choir, you let Sana focus on rehearsal while you wandered around the church on your own. Normally, you would have spent the entire time chatting her ear off, rambling about anything and everything, but today you let her concentrate.
A few parishioners were arranging fresh flowers around the framed images of saints, while others carefully dusted and polished the statues lining the church walls. The distant voices of the choir drifted through the air, blending with the soft murmur of prayers and quiet conversations, creating a peaceful atmosphere that settled gently around you.
When Sana first invited you to come with her to church, you had agreed out of nothing more than curiosity. You traded your usual weekend night outs for sunday mass, wanting to see the world through her eyes and understand why this place, with its quiet prayers and solemn rituals, meant so much to her.
The church offered a kind of quiet that rarely existed in your everyday life. Away from crowded parties, endless conversations, and the glittering chaos of your social circle, there was something unexpectedly comforting about this place. It gave you a chance to slow down, to breathe, and to simply exist without needing to be the loudest person in the room.
“Good morning, Fr. Jeon.” a few choir members and parishioners greeted.
You turned around absentmindedly, your head tilting curiously when you saw a priest entering through one of the church's side doors. Dressed in a long black cassock, he offered everyone a warm smile and a slight bow as he stepped inside.
A new priest?
“Are you here for the charity blessing, Fr. Jeon?” someone asked.
The woman approached him and received a gentle pat on the head in return.
He smiled. “Yes, I stopped by to gather a few materials for the blessing.”
Your head tilted slightly as you watched him, finding yourself taking an unconscious step forward.
A handsome fucking priest.
For the past few months that you'd been spending time at the church with Sana, this was the first time you'd seen him, and unfortunately for your soul, he was ridiculously attractive.
You found yourself shamelessly staring, almost in awe as he greeted everyone with effortless kindness.
He bowed politely, acknowledged each person with a warm smile, and listened attentively whenever someone spoke to him. It should've been a crime for a priest to be that good-looking.
Sinful.
The long black cassock he wore looked attractively sinful wrapped around someone so impossibly holy, the stark contrast only making him harder to ignore. His sharp jawline became more pronounced whenever he turned to greet someone with a kind smile, and a pair of thin-framed glasses rested neatly on his nose, lending him an air of quiet intelligence that did absolutely nothing to help your situation. His eyes were dark and warm behind the lenses, attentive whenever he listened to someone speak, and his jet-black hair was styled neatly, though a few stubborn strands had fallen across his forehead.
Everything about him looked composed, dignified, and entirely inappropriate for the thoughts currently running through your head.
You almost let out a dramatic gasp when Fr. Jeon finally waved his goodbye and turned to leave. A curse nearly slipped from your lips as you watched him make his way toward the church doors.
Everyone else had managed to greet him and earn one of his warm smiles, some even receiving a fond pat on the head. Meanwhile, you had spent the entire time standing near the altar, staring at him like an absolute creep, too mesmerized by his existence.
Internally rolling your eyes at yourself and the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, you watched him disappear through the church doors. And then, because apparently your dignity had already left the building before he did, you immediately made your way back to Sana, who was still busy practicing her choir lines.
“So...” you began, trailing behind Sana as she walked around with her booklet, quietly memorizing her choir pieces.
“Is Fr. Jeon a real priest?”
Sana lowered the booklet and stared at you, her brows knitting together as she caught the suspicious wiggle of your eyebrows.
“Huh?”
“I mean...” you hesitated. “Is he a real priest or, like… an intern priest?”
The moment the words left your mouth, you realized how stupid they sounded.
Was there even such a thing as a priest internship?
Sana blinked. Then she burst out laughing. “He's a real priest, Y/N. What do you mean, intern priest?”
Your cheeks immediately warmed. You looked away while she continued laughing, lifting the booklet back up as you followed after her.
You pouted. “Well... he looks young.” And hot. “And I've never seen him before. Every time I've attended mass with you, he wasn't the presider.”
You tried to think back to the past few months but came up empty. No handsome priests. Because if there had been one, you definitely would've remembered.
In fact, you were pretty sure you would've started sitting in the front row.
“Yeah, because he only got appointed recently,” Sana answered, her attention back on the booklet. “A few months ago, I think.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, almost groaning when you haven’t met him before he got appointed.
What the fuck, Y/N. Are you seriously eyeing a priest?
Absolutely not. That was...unholy!
For the following weeks, you found yourself clinging to Sana more than usual.
At first, you convinced yourself it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Going to church with her wasn't exactly new.
You just weren't nearly as consistent as she was.
There were plenty of sundays you skipped altogether, choosing late nights with your friends over early mornings in church. Besides, you figured there would always be another mass to attend, while convincing Sana to show up at one of your parties was practically impossible.
That was why you never attended as regularly as she did.
Lately, however, the situation seemed to have reversed. Now, you were the one volunteering to come.
Party invitations sat unanswered in your messages. Night outs were declined without hesitation. Instead, you found yourself asking Sana about choir practice, church activities, and whether she planned on volunteering for any upcoming events.
It was becoming a little concerning.
Wearing one of your now-usual long skirts and a modest blouse approved by church standards, you applied an extra layer of lip gloss in front of your mirror. Excitement bubbled inside you as you remembered what Sana had told you earlier that week—a charity event was coming up, and the church needed volunteers to help organize donations.
There had been plenty of charity events before, many of which you had skipped. Sana would usually spend the entire day helping sort donations and assisting the parishioners, leaving little time for the two of you to actually spend together. As much as you enjoyed tagging along with her, wandering around the church by yourself for hours wasn't exactly appealing.
This time, however, you were genuinely excited to come.
It wasn't as though you couldn't visit the church on your own. Nobody would stop you if you decided to drop by one afternoon.
The problem was that it would be… strange.
Ever since you started coming to church, it had always been because of Sana. Everyone knew you as her friend, not as someone particularly devoted to the church.
If you suddenly started showing up by yourself every weekend, people would notice. You weren't exactly known for your devotion.
Especially when the answer involved a certain priest.
It was already strange enough that you were beginning to resemble a devoted Christian.
False piety.
When you arrived at the church, your heartbeat picked up immediately. Volunteers moved in and out of the building carrying boxes and supplies, conversations blending into a lively hum that filled the grounds.
“You can help with the boxes, Y/N. I'll just talk to the choir members,” Sana said with a smile.
You nodded a little too eagerly, grateful she didn’t question your sudden burst of interest in coming with her to church. It helped that you had accompanied her before—enough for it to not feel completely out of the blue.
“Okay! I'll help with the boxes!” you smiled brightly.
The moment Sana wandered off to join the other choir members, you immediately began looking around for ways to help.
“Let me carry those,” you offered with a bright smile, reaching for a volunteer struggling with a stack of old toy boxes meant for donation.
The woman thanked you and asked if you could bring them outside, where a small truck was parked to collect everything.
You happily agreed.
“I hope he comes today,” you muttered under your breath as you carried the boxes toward the truck, your eyes drifting toward the church entrance every few seconds.
According to Sana, Fr. Jeon frequently stopped by to check on donation drives, visit the parish office, or help coordinate volunteer work.
You had already carried nine boxes, then… ten. With every trip back and forth, you found yourself slowly losing hope that Fr. Jeon would show up at all. You were starting to regret wearing your cutest pink skirt today, and the growing disappointment was beginning to settle in alongside your irritation.
Just as you were about to accept that all your effort had been wasted, Fr. Jeon finally appeared, walking into the church hall.
Your eyes widened.
“Fuck—” you immediately winced, biting your lip the moment the word escaped. Mentally apologizing for cursing inside the church.
With a fresh box of donations balanced in your arms, you hurried toward the entrance, trying your best to look useful, helpful and responsible. Like the kind of person who volunteered here regularly and wasn't secretly waiting for your handsome priest to show up.
Your heart hammered against your ribs when he finally glanced in your direction.
“Good day,” he greeted with a smile and a polite nod, raising his right hand to gently pat your head.
Your cheeks immediately flushed, almost dropping the boxes when he touched you.
He patted my head!
Today, he was dressed in a fitted black long-sleeved shirt tucked neatly into black slacks, a simple brown cross necklace resting against his chest. His jet-black hair was styled neatly away from his face, exposing a heart-shaped forehead that made him look unfairly handsome. He wore his usual pair of glasses, the thin frames resting on the bridge of his nose and softening the sharpness of his features. Behind the lenses, his round eyes looked steady and attentive, always observant, as if he noticed everything without ever needing to say so.
Goodness gracious.
Your gaze drifted lower, almost shamelessly staring…only to pause on his right hand.
You frowned slightly, you wanted to take a longer look, but his sleeves hid the rest of his arms from view, making it impossible to tell how far they extended.
Was that a tattoo?
For some reason, that discovery stunned you more than it should have. Priests and tattoos weren't exactly a combination you'd ever imagined together.
You were so distracted staring at his hand that you didn't realize he had already walked past you and moved on to greet the other volunteers.
You didn't even greet him back! Oh God.
Panic immediately settled in your chest. Adjusting your grip on the donation box, you hurried after him, determined to salvage the interaction somehow. You just needed a reason to talk to him.
A simple religious question, maybe?
Unfortunately, your brain had chosen this exact moment to stop working.
You couldn't exactly walk up to him and ask if priests were allowed to have tattoos. Nor could you suddenly start quoting bible verses when the majority of your religious knowledge came from Sana lecturing you every other week.
You wanted to sound natural and virginal.
The problem was that you had absolutely no idea how to start a holy conversation without sounding fake about it, like you were trying too hard to be someone you weren’t.
When you saw him entering the church office, you frowned and stomped your foot against the floor in irritation.
Pity.
You were a bit disappointed when his gaze didn’t even linger on you. You were used to boys in college always noticing you…showing their interest, getting swayed by your pretty face and charming personality. But here, inside the church, you were nothing more than another kind volunteer in his eyes—someone he greeted with the same calm respect he gave everyone else.
Importunate.
At this point, it had become a routine. You would come to church with Sana after school, grateful she had joined the choir because it gave you an excuse to be there almost every day instead of only on weekends.
While she attended rehearsals, you spent your afternoons helping with volunteer work and assisting the parishioners...all while discreetly searching the church grounds for your future boyfriend.
You even started dressing for it—slipping into the most “virginal” outfits your closet could offer in hopes of blending in. Long skirts, conservative blouses, dresses that covered everything they possibly could. It was almost laughable how much effort you put into looking like the perfect church girl, when a few months ago you would’ve rather died than be seen in half of these outfits.
The worst part was that it wasn't even guaranteed to work.
There were days when your timing simply didn't align. You would arrive at the church only to hear that Fr. Jeon had already stopped by earlier, or spend the afternoon helping around the parish before finding out he had come and gone while you were busy elsewhere. Sometimes you would leave just before he arrived, missing him by mere minutes.
You would come home without seeing even a glimpse of him, staring at your ceiling later that night and wondering why you felt so deflated over someone you barely knew.
Then there were the good days—when your schedules happened to align and you finally saw him. Your eyes would immediately light up the moment you spotted him across the church grounds, your smile growing brighter despite your attempts to act normal, your cheeks burning whenever he greeted you with that gentle smile and absentminded pat on the head.
Transgression.
At first, seeing him had been enough. Now, however, you found yourself expecting more. Not much...just a conversation that lasted longer than a few seconds. Something beyond charity drives, donation boxes, retreats, and volunteer work.
But Fr. Jeon was frustratingly...polite.
He greeted everyone with the same kindness, smiled at everyone with the same warmth, and spoke to everyone with the same respectful attentiveness. Whenever you managed to stand near him long enough for a conversation, he would ask about the charity, the donations, the volunteers, or whatever church event happened to be coming up next.
The discussion always remained firmly within the boundaries of church matters, and before you knew it, he would excuse himself to continue helping elsewhere.
You couldn't even ask him anything personal. Every question that came to mind sounded ridiculous the moment you imagined saying it out loud. Are those tattoos real? How old are you? Why are you so handsome for a priest?
None of them exactly sounded appropriate for church conversation.
So you remained stuck in this strange little cycle of yours, coming to church almost everyday with hopes far bigger than the interactions you actually received. And despite how ridiculous it felt, despite how much you scolded yourself for it, the highlight of your day was still that brief smile and the weight of his hand resting atop your head for a few seconds.
Shameful.
A shame that you had never actually talked to him.
Not beyond a few good afternoons exchanged in passing and the occasional greeting whenever your paths crossed around the church.
You didn't want to be too bold, afraid that he would notice your embarrassingly obvious attempts to get his attention. As someone who wasn't particularly religious, you found yourself in an absurd predicament.
Should you start reading the bible? Memorize a few scriptures? Learn enough about church teachings to hold an intelligent conversation with him?
The fact that you were even considering studying scripture just to impress a priest made you question every life decision that had led you to this point.
You wanted his eyes to linger on you. Wanted him to look at you a little longer than everyone else. Wanted to feel special in some way. But every time your gaze met his, he would simply smile and move on, his attention never staying in one place for too long.
Sometimes you wondered if the only thing capable of holding his complete devotion was God himself.
Which was unfortunate for you. Because you were used to being noticed.
You were pretty, and you knew it. Attention had always come easily to you, yet the one man whose attention you wanted most remained completely out of reach.
A man who was distant, unattainable, and forbidden in every possible sense of the word.
Standing in front of your mirror that afternoon, you smoothed down your floral dress and examined your reflection one last time. The modest dress fell neatly against your figure, paired with white kitten heels that made you look far more innocent than you actually were. You dabbed a little extra blush onto your cheeks before adding a touch more glitter to your eyelids, your excitement growing as you remembered what Sana had told you earlier that week.
Fr. Jeon would be presiding over today's mass.
It would be the first mass of his that you would be attending, and as you stared at yourself in the mirror, unable to stop smiling, you realized your excitement felt dangerously close to the kind of anticipation one would have before a date.
Sana had noticed that you were coming with her far more often nowadays, but being as naive and obedient as she was, she only took it as a good sign. In her eyes, your heart was simply getting closer to God, closer to faith, closer to something pure and meaningful.
Closer to Fr. Jeon, rather.
“You look excited,” she said with a soft smile, her eyes twinkling when you mentioned wanting to sit in the front row. The thought only made her happier, convinced that your devotion was finally deepening in the way she had always hoped for you.
Oh, you were devoted.
“Excited for the Mass, you know,” you replied with a small giggle, clasping your hands together as if to sell the image. “Wonder what bible chapter will be discussed today.”
Of course you were gonna listen, be a good little church girl and have your eyes and attention to him.
Your eyes were practically shining when you stepped into the church, making a beeline for the front row without hesitation. You sat down shamelessly, smoothing your skirt as if you had done this every sunday of your life.
Sana only smiled at your eagerness, completely oblivious to the fact that your decision had nothing to do with spiritual focus and everything to do with proximity. Sitting at the front felt less like devotion and more like VIP seating for the sole purpose of seeing Fr. Jeon up close.
When the bell finally rang, the entire church rose to its feet. Your heart kicked up immediately as the sacristans entered in procession, one of them carrying a smoking thurible that swung gently with each step. And right at the center of it all was him.
Your future boyfriend.
Your lips parted slightly, eyes widening as Fr. Jeon walked slowly down the nave with calm, deliberate steps. His hands were clasped together in front of him in prayer, and he wore the full liturgical vestments—a long white linen robe beneath a green chasuble, a thin stole draped over his shoulders, and a cincture tied neatly at his waist. The fabric moved softly as he walked, making him look almost unreal under the church lights, like something out of a painting you weren’t supposed to stare at for too long.
He greeted people with gentle smiles along the way, bowing his head politely, even pausing to pat a few children on the head as he passed the pews.
By the time he reached the altar, your attention was fully locked in.
Disingenuous.
You nodded a little too eagerly when responses were required, your voice coming out brighter than necessary during the choir parts, as if enthusiasm alone could prove your devotion. Every time he spoke, your focus sharpened, hanging onto his words a little too intently, even when you were supposed to be blending in with the rest of the congregation.
He was wearing his usual pair of glasses, slowly turning the pages of the bible with precise, practiced movements. His voice was steady and clear as he read, each word delivered with a calm authority that made it clear this role suited him completely. There was nothing rushed about him, nothing uncertain.. only a quiet certainty in the way he stood at the altar, as if it had always belonged to him.
By now, you had started mirroring him without even realizing it. Whenever he closed his eyes to say the prayers, you would close yours too, hands folded a little tighter than necessary, breathing in sync with the rhythm of the mass.
You were fucking crazy.
When it was time for the holy communion, you stood up almost too quickly, your heart thudding loudly in your chest as you joined the line forming in the aisle. Each step forward felt heavier than it should have, not because of the sacrament itself, but because of who was waiting near the altar.
“Are you alright?” Sana commented quietly when she noticed your flushed expression after the bell rang.
You let out a small, awkward laugh and instinctively smoothed down your long hair, trying to compose yourself. “Just thinking about my prayers,” you said lightly, as if that explanation made any sense at all.
She gasped, like you were really serious about your prayers, when all you could think about was—
He’s gonna feed me the host!
You were almost sweating as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, feeling the moment inch closer with every step in the line. Sana’s voice was still beside you, something about God always listening and having faith in his timing, but her words barely registered anymore. Your mind was elsewhere entirely, stuck on the growing realization that you were seconds away from facing him directly.
Preparing your hands in a prayer position, your brain almost short-circuited when you finally faced him, his right tatted hand holding the host up for you.
“The Body of Christ,” he said in a soft tone, almost detached in its reverence.
You wanted him to recognize you—the obedient good girl who always volunteered at the church. But fuck, he was too absorbed in God and the communion.
Your lips parted. “Amen…”
When he finally fed you the host, you almost choked when you felt the slight, accidental brush of his index finger against your lips as he withdrew his hand. You were left completely flustered, while he remained composed and focused on the ritual, seemingly unaware of the effect he had on you.
To you, it felt intimate.
To him, it was simply the Eucharist…a sacred duty, a practiced motion repeated countless times.
When you returned to your seat and lowered yourself to kneel again, you pressed your hands together a little too tightly. In your head, you immediately apologized to God for every impure thought, questionable intention, and shameless moment you had done.
Then, without even a full second of self-reflection, you proceeded to ask if he could somehow let you be a little closer to Fr. Jeon.
Your priorities were clearly a work in progress.
“Sana, are you gonna visit the church this week?” you asked with a small smile, falling into your usual habit of checking with her.
For the past few weeks, your afternoons and weekends had quietly reshaped themselves around her schedule.
It had become something strangely comforting… helping wherever you could, spending hours in a place that once felt unfamiliar but was now slowly turning into routine.
But of course, you couldn’t deny that recently, there was another reason woven into it too.
“Nope,” Sana replied as she hugged her books closer to her chest. “I have to study this week. Finals are coming up, and I still have a chemistry exam to review for before vacation starts.”
You groaned softly and walked beside her as the two of you left the campus. “Then why don’t we just stop by for a bit? To pray for good grades?” you suggested, lifting a brow as if it was the most logical solution in the world.
Please. Please. Please agree with me.
Sana pouted, clearly considering it for a moment, and your heart almost stopped in anticipation. Then she shook her head slowly, and your excitement deflated instantly.
“You’re right,” she said gently, “but it’s a long test, Y/N. I need to review all week. God would understand.”
She smiled softly and slipped her arm through yours. “Let’s just pray at home and do the rosary before reviewing.”
You forced a small smile, though your shoulders sagged slightly at the realization. It wasn’t just a missed church visit—it was a missed chance, even if you kept telling yourself it wasn’t supposed to be about that.
Sure, you would probably still see Fr. Jeon at sunday mass. He was the new presider in the city now, after all.
But it still wasn’t the same.
You almost groaned when you found yourself at the church that saturday morning. You were wearing a cream-colored dress, kitten heels, and a rosary necklace you had recently bought for the sole purpose of impressing Fr. Jeon. You had no idea whether he would even notice it, but in your mind, it felt like the kind of thing a good church girl would wear.
Preposterous.
Sashaying your way inside, you took in the usual parishioners and volunteers already busy arranging boxes for the charity drive.
You bit your lip. This was your first time visiting the church without Sana. Still, as you walked in, you were relieved when a few volunteers recognized you.
Thank God and all the saints.
You smiled and bent down to help with the boxes, already familiar with the routine—carrying them to the truck, sorting old clothes and toys, or helping with the lists.
If any of your uni friends saw you here alone, they would be completely confused. Without Sana, your sudden appearance at church would make absolutely no sense.
“Good day, Fr. Jeon.” someone greeted, and your ears immediately perked up. You turned just in time to see him entering the church halls in his usual black long sleeves and slacks.
You were only on your third box today! He was early!
Your lips curled into a small, excited smile as you instinctively stepped closer, box still in hand, already anticipating the familiar greeting and gentle pat on the head.
“Good day,” he said as expected, offering a polite nod before his hand lifted to pat your head.
Your eyelashes fluttered.
But instead of letting him move on to greet the others…for the first time in the past few weeks, you actually gathered the courage to stop him.
“Uh, Fr. Jeon?” you called softly just as he was about to turn away.
He paused, tilting his head slightly. “Yes, sweetheart?”
Jesus– God in heaven.
Your cheeks instantly reddened at the nickname, fingers tightening around the box. Still, you forced yourself to breathe, and finally blurted out the question you had been rehearsing all night.
“Just wondering if you have any c-chapter recommendations? I’m currently reading the bible and I don’t know where to start,” you said shyly.
There was a brief flicker of pleasant surprise on his face, quietly impressed that you were asking about the bible in the first place. It wasn't often that someone approached him with genuine curiosity about scripture.
He was about to answer when, suddenly…his attention shifted.
His gaze drifted downward, landing on the rosary hanging around your neck—the small cross resting between your breasts.
His lips pursed. “Sweetheart…rosaries are not meant to be worn as necklaces,” he chuckled softly, his eyes lingering on the rosary before looking back at you.
Your eyes widened. “I-It’s not…?” you asked, your ears and neck already heating in embarrassment.
Fuck. You didn’t know that!
Fr. Jeon exhaled gently. “It’s a prayer tool,” he explained, his tone patient and calm. “Meant to be held in the hands… used in prayer, not displayed like jewelry.”
You blinked. “I-I didn’t know,” you admitted quickly, almost defensively. “I just really… like rosaries.”
Deception.
Fr. Jeon sighed softly, then lifted a hand to gently pat your head. “It’s okay…if you want, you can still wear rosary bracelets.” he offered you a small, reassuring smile.
You almost melted at his kindness. “R-Right, that would be better,” you said shyly, barely keeping yourself together.
He chuckled softly at your reaction, adjusting his glasses before finally returning to your original question. “If you’re reading the bible,” he added at last, “start with the gospels. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.”
You nodded quickly, smiling up at him as he returned a warm, genuine smile of his own.
“Noted, Fr. Jeon.” you smiled, unconsciously stepping a little closer. “...Uhm, d-do you have a bible in your office, Father?” you asked shyly, doing your best to sound innocent and academically curious.
The moment the question left your mouth, you almost mentally slapped yourself.
Of course he has a bible in his office!
You opened your mouth, ready to rephrase the question, to save yourself from the embarrassment of sounding so foolish—but Fr. Jeon answered before you could.
“I do have a few bible collections in my office…would you like to see them?” Fr. Jeon offered, gesturing gently toward the church office.
You dropped the boxes. “Oh, my-”
Your plan actually worked!
Your eyes widened in horror. Mortified, you immediately bent down to pick them up, only to find Fr. Jeon already reaching for them.
“Careful, sweetheart,” he chuckled softly, lifting the boxes with ease as if they weighed nothing. “Let me carry these.”
“S-Sorry, it was kinda heavy,” you reasoned out, your neck already turning red. You still couldn’t believe you were actually having a full conversation with him.
And now he was even taking you to his office!
The Lord had truly answered your prayers.
With a polite smile, Fr. Jeon handed the boxes to the truck before gesturing for you to follow him toward the office.
“I can let you borrow a few scriptures if you’d like. I have the new version of the bible—would you want that?” Fr. Jeon asked as he reached into his pocket for his office keys.
You nodded immediately, hands clasping together behind your back. “Uh, yeah. That would be heavenly!”
Heavenly? For Christ’s sake, Y/N.
Fr. Jeon only smiled at that, unlocking and opening the office door as if he were letting you step into a space you had no right to be so excited about.
Pious.
You had done your research last night—it had been difficult since he was such a private person, but you had managed to learn a few things.
Fr. Jeon had been ordained only six months ago and was now officially assigned as the priest of your city’s parish, something you were embarrassingly looking forward to.
He was twenty-eight. He had studied arts before eventually pursuing theology. There were only a handful of photos of him online…mostly seminarian group pictures, a few formal ones where he wasn’t wearing his usual cassock, though he was always in long sleeves.
You had even found one rare image where he had rolled his sleeve slightly during a group photo, revealing part of a tattoo on his arm beneath a white long-sleeve shirt and a cross necklace.
“Fuck… he’s hiding all that under his sleeves?” you had muttered to yourself last night, squinting at the screen and trying to find more…only to realize there was barely anything else. No social media, no casual photos, nothing.
“Take a seat here. I’ll get the books for you,” Fr. Jeon said now, smiling as he gestured toward the small couch in front of his desk.
You nodded and sat down obediently, trying very hard to look like a good parish girl.
His office was quiet and orderly in a way that immediately made you straighten your posture. The walls were lined with wooden bookshelves filled with thick religious texts, bible editions, theological commentaries, and neatly stacked parish documents. A simple desk sat against one side, organized and uncluttered, with a few folders, a pen holder, and a small lamp.
In the center of the room, mounted on the wall above the desk, hung a large crucifix—christ on the cross—watching over everything in silent stillness. The soft light from the window fell across it gently, making the entire room feel even more solemn, almost sacred.
Yet your thoughts were nowhere near sacred. You were here to attempt a very dangerous, carnal sin.
Seduction.
Masked in your perfect good-girl appearance, wondering if you could crack that unshakable composure he wore so effortlessly—if you could make his calm, holy restraint finally slip.
You slowly stood up from the couch while his back remained turned, focused on his bible scriptures. Your head tilted slightly as you tried to make it look as innocent as possible…to enter his space without revealing your true, sinful intentions.
“Fr. Jeon,” you called softly, standing too close behind him.
You needed to converse, to interact with him, to get him interested—to show him how much you adored God as much as he did.
“Hmm?” He didn’t glance at you, still focused on the scriptures.
You pouted, slowly taking a peek at what he was doing. “I was wondering if I could just read the bible here instead of borrowing it….” you attempted softly. “That way, if there’s something I don’t understand… I can ask you about it right away.” you said in a sweet, suggestive tone.
Fr. Jeon glanced at you, subtly stepping back when he realized you were right behind him, your vanilla scent brushing his senses.
He paused for a moment, looking into your hopeful eyes.
“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully, a small smile appearing on his face. “That's actually a good idea. Understanding scripture is easier when you can discuss it with someone. If I'm here, feel free to ask me anything you're confused about.”
Providence.
You smiled brightly, feeling your relationship with him finally take another step forward.
“That would be great! Thank you, Fr. Jeon,” you said, tilting your head and giving him one of your most charming smiles.
It was absurd.
After your finals, you were granted a two-month semestral break, and instead of using that time to party, travel with friends, or go on night outs, you had spent nearly all of it at the church.
Sana, unfortunately, never questioned your growing interest. She was too kind to question your faith.
Over the next few weeks, your afternoons were spent in the parish office, reading scripture, flipping through commentaries, and waiting for the familiar sound of the office door opening.
During those weeks, you managed to have a few small talks with him whenever he stopped by. You learned that he visited the church every day…sometimes to pray, sometimes to help with ongoing charity work, hear confessions, or simply check on the church office before moving on to his next responsibility.
Hearing about his schedule made you quietly adjust your own, ensuring you arrived at the office around 3 p.m.—the time he usually came in to check mails and paperwork at his office.
Today, you were wearing a baby blue dress that flowed nicely around your ankles, trimmed with delicate lace at the hem. Your hair was tied in a half ponytail with a blue ribbon, your makeup subtle, and your kitten heels matching the softness of your outfit.
Sana didn’t come with you every day anymore—she had other “holy” activities outside the church, like charity visits, helping at retreat houses, touring other churches, and even climbing mountains to visit shrines and statues.
You had politely declined most of those invitations, telling her you found comfort in staying within your church’s city.
Disingenuous.
The rhythm between you had become almost routine. You would come to the office in the afternoons, sit down with a bible, and quietly read while asking him occasional questions whenever something didn’t make sense.
Fr. Jeon would remain at his desk, either going through papers or reading his own scripture in silence. The room would stay mostly quiet, filled with the soft turning of pages and the steady presence of his focus, as if the world outside didn’t quite reach either of you in that space.
Sometimes you would try to steer the conversation a little further, testing small openings beyond scripture, but it always naturally circled back to the same things—bible passages, God, charity work, church matters… anything within that same unspoken boundary of the holy.
Yet, that alone felt like a privilege—being allowed into the quiet rhythm of his office, as if you belonged there too.
“Good day, Fr. Jeon. I brought some snacks for you,” you said with a smile as you entered the church’s office.
As usual, he was sitting at his desk, wearing his framed glasses while reading some papers.
You walked toward him and held up a small box of cookies you had gladly baked. “I made these…kind of like a thank-you gift for letting me stay here in the office,” you said proudly.
During your free time, you had spent the entire afternoon baking cookies for Fr. Jeon, thinking it would be a nice thank-you gift for him. At first, you had even wanted to decorate them with cute frosting faces of Jesus, convinced it would make you look extra devoted in his eyes.
Unfortunately, after staring at your frosting bag for ten minutes, you realized it might look a little too....performative.
So, with great reluctance, you abandoned your tiny Jesus-face cookie idea and settled for regular chocolate chip cookies instead.
The result sat neatly inside the box you now held out to him, carefully packed and decorated with far more effort than necessary.
Fr. Jeon looked at the cookies, his head tilting slightly when he noticed the box was covered in heart stickers. A soft smile formed on his lips, quietly touched by your kindness.
“That’s very kind of you, sweetheart.” he said softly, taking the box before looking up at you from his swivel chair. “Thank you, Y/N.”
Your cheeks flushed, making you feel like a schoolgirl finally noticed by your crush.
“No worries, Fr. Jeon… besides, I really like reading the bible here! it feels comforting,” you said, leaning in slightly as if to emphasize your point. “And thank you… you really help me understand it better when I get confused,” you added softly, fluttering your lashes at him.
He blinked slowly, clearly caught off guard by your sweet smile and the way you leaned in, his usual composure faltering for a brief moment as he paused.
“No...no problem sweetheart.” he said with a small smile. “I’m… glad you find comfort here. God will always find a way to comfort our souls.”
You smiled sheepishly and sat down on the small couch in front of his desk. “Hmm, I know…I always pray whenever I’m overwhelmed, somehow talking to God really helps me.” you said thoughtfully, even if you had only learned those kinds of phrases from Sana.
Fr. Jeon nodded quietly, he didn’t expect you to be this devoted.
You were very pure, kind, and charming. He had always noticed you volunteering at the church with your friend Sana—you would help with the boxes, sit around during her choir sessions, sometimes simply sit in the pew as if the presence of the church alone was enough for you.
It wasn’t hard to notice you. You were pretty and graceful, always smiling at everyone, carrying a soft, composed presence whenever he saw you at the church in your long skirts and modest blouses—like a quiet image of devotion itself.
Despite that, his eyes never lingered.
Always composed, always measured…because anything longer than a passing glance felt like something he shouldn’t allow himself.
Ever since you asked him about the bible that day, he had been quietly amazed. Nowadays, very few people showed genuine interest in scripture, let alone someone your age.
Seeing your devotion—or what he believed was devotion…filled him with a warmth he hadn't expected. It was rare to meet someone so eager to learn more about God.
What he didn't realize was that your sweet, holy little plan had been working all along.
And what you didn't realize was that your sweetness, your smiles, your carefully built innocence—had been working from the very beginning.
You were so focused on the fact that his eyes never lingered, so convinced that he remained untouched by your presence, that you failed to see the subtle effect you had already left behind.
“What do you do during your free time, Fr. Jeon?” you asked casually one friday afternoon, trying your best to sound merely curious rather than interested.
You had spent weeks keeping your questions safely within the boundaries of scripture. Careful not to reveal how badly you wanted to know the man behind the collar.
So you kept your tone light and innocent, as though it were nothing more than a harmless question that had happened to cross your mind.
Fr. Jeon's head tilted slightly. He was sitting across from you at the small coffee table inside his office, a bible resting in his hands just like yours.
“I visit charities,” he answered lightly. “I usually stay there for a while and spend time with the children.” a fond smile crossed his face at the memory.
Your lips parted. Oh! still religious.
“How about you, sweetheart?” Fr. Jeon asked.
You quickly searched for a suitably holy answer. “Umm, I-I sometimes climb mountains to visit shrines and blessed statues,” you said, biting your lip as you recalled one of Sana's favorite religious activities.
Fr. Jeon nodded thoughtfully, visibly impressed…his expression softening as if genuinely moved that you spent your free time in service of the Lord.
“What a good girl you are,” he said softly.
His eyes lifted to meet yours for a brief moment—just long enough to make your heart stumble…before he looked away first, a small smile forming on his lips that he quickly hid as he lowered his gaze back to the bible.
Your lips parted slightly, warmth rushing to your cheeks at the compliment.
Good girl. Oh to be called his good girl.
Even though Sana had been busy lately with her other holy activities, you didn't mind attending mass alone. In fact, you were more than happy sitting in the front row.
Your eyes would sparkle whenever Fr. Jeon spoke, your heart thumping whenever his gaze swept across the congregation and briefly met yours.
It always felt like a small victory, as though he was finally acknowledging you, finally noticing you.
“The Body of Christ.” Fr. Jeon held up the host.
“Amen,” you replied softly.
Unlike before, however, his gaze briefly lowered to meet yours. It lasted only a moment, accompanied by a small smile, but it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.
Enthralled.
Little by little, the distance between you seemed to shrink. The walls around him no longer felt quite as impenetrable as they once had.
Overtime, you had finally managed to crack through the edges of his usual reserve. What started as strictly scripture and charity talk had slowly, almost imperceptibly, begun to shift into something more personal.
You learned how he first became interested in the priesthood, how his mother had served in the church, and how deeply devoted his family was to their faith. You even found the courage to ask about his tattoos, discovering they came from his love for art long before he pursued theology.
In return, you had shared little pieces of yourself as well—your hobbies, your favorite things, your likes and dislikes. Of course, you were careful to sprinkle in a little extra holiness whenever you could, always eager to impress him and maintain the image he seemed to have of you.
Fr. Jeon enjoyed your presence. It was refreshing to converse with someone who seemed to share the same interest and devotion that he held so dearly.
As the weeks passed, he found himself quietly looking forward to your visits, anticipating the familiar sound of your voice drifting into his office each afternoon. After all, you had always been naturally playful and talkative, and somehow… your constant babbling had become a welcome part of his routine.
It had been a month since you started spending your afternoons in his office. Upon entering, you found him sitting at the coffee table instead of his desk. Scattered across the table were several small boxes in different colors.
Curious, you stepped inside, your usual box of homemade cookies in hand—the same kind you brought him every week.
“What’s that, Fr. Jeon?” you asked, taking a seat across from him and placing the cookies on the table.
Fr. Jeon looked up and smiled. “When's your birthday, sweetheart?”
You blinked, a question that was out of the blue—like you were on a date, and he was casually getting to know you.
Your cheeks immediately flushed, you told him your birth date, unable to hide the slight confusion in your voice.
Fr. Jeon nodded thoughtfully before reaching for one of the small boxes on the table.
There were twelve of them in total, each a different color. Pink, purple, green, blue, yellow, and several others.
“This would be your birthstone color then,” he said with a fond smile, handing you the box that matched your birth month.
Confused, you picked up the box and slowly opened it.
A small rosary bracelet rested inside.
Your heart began thumping so loudly you could hear it in your ears as you remembered the conversation from weeks ago…when he had gently corrected you and told you that rosaries weren't meant to be worn as necklaces.
“T-This is for me?” you asked, eyes wide and sparkling.
Fr. Jeon smiled softly. “Yes, sweetheart. I didn't know your birthday, so I bought all twelve colors,” he admitted with a small chuckle, glancing at the remaining boxes on the table.
It was such a simple gift, yet your heart fluttered stupidly in your chest. Somehow, this meant more than the flowers, chocolates, teddy bears, and expensive jewelry your admirers had given you before.
Before you could stop yourself, you rose from your seat and threw your arms around him.
Fr. Jeon froze in surprise, his eyes widened as you suddenly closed the distance between you. The force of the hug nearly made him lose his balance in the chair as your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders.
“Thank you, Fr. Jeon...so sweet of you.” you murmured, overwhelmed with happiness.
He gulped harshly. It had been a long time since he had been touched by a woman.
Not accidentally in a crowded place. Not a polite handshake after mass. Not a brief greeting exchanged out of courtesy.
A long time.
His heart raced against his ribs as your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Your hot breath fanned softly against his collar, carrying the familiar scent of vanilla that had become impossible for him not to recognize. The closeness was overwhelming in a way he hadn't expected, making him painfully aware of how little physical affection existed in his life.
His hands hovered awkwardly in the air for a moment before gripping the edge of the table instead. Every instinct told him to return the gesture, to place a comforting hand against your back and reassure you, but he remained still, forcing himself to hold onto his composure.
“You're welcome, sweetheart.” Fr. Jeon rasped, his voice coming out rougher than usual.
When you finally pulled away, you smiled brightly and sat back down in your chair, immediately slipping the bracelet onto your wrist.
Meanwhile, he remained frozen for a moment, trying to swallow away the lingering awareness of your closeness. The warmth of your embrace, your breath against his collar, the brief press of your breasts against him.
The hug had been innocent, sweet and harmless.
Which only made it worse.
Because he had no reason to be affected by it at all. He found himself quietly unsettled by the fact that he had needed to restrain himself in a moment that should have been nothing more than simple gratitude.
Temptation.
The next day, you proudly wore the rosary bracelet he had given you. You had even chosen a dress that matched its color, complete with a ribbon in your hair to tie everything together.
When you entered his office, you found Fr. Jeon standing by the bookshelves, a scripture in one hand. His glasses rested low on his nose as he read through a passage.
Immediately, you raised your wrist and showed off the bracelet. “Look,” you said with a grin.
Fr. Jeon glanced down, you were already twirling in place, eager to show him how the bracelet matched your dress.
Pretty.
The thought came so naturally that he frowned at himself.
“Good day, Y/N.” he replied, forcing his attention away from the observation.
You smiled brightly and wriggled your wrist. “I matched the bracelet with my dress and ribbon, see?”
Turning in a small circle again, you proudly showed off the entire outfit.
Fr. Jeon watched for a brief moment before lowering his gaze. Lately, he had become far too aware of things he shouldn't be noticing.
How pretty you looked whenever you walked into his office, how your face lit up whenever you talked to him, how easily your excitement filled the room.
Even your long dresses—soft fabric falling gently to your ankles, lace details tracing along the edges…began to feel distracting in a way he could not fully explain or justify.
Turning innocent things into distractions. The modesty that should have protected his thoughts was beginning to have the opposite effect, making him painfully aware of the woman hidden beneath layers of fabric and lace.
Perhaps it was because it had been so long since he had allowed himself to be this close to a woman. Years spent in seminaries, rectories, church offices, and ministry had made him accustomed to a life of distance and discipline. He had grown comfortable in it.
Until you.
“Glad you like it, sweetheart,” he said at last, forcing a small smile before returning his attention to the scripture in his hands.
It was easier to focus on the page than on the way you were still standing there, smiling at him as if he had just given you the greatest gift in the world.
You giggled and stepped a little closer. “You know, I didn’t remove the bracelet yet… I’m planning on wearing it forever.”
Fr. Jeon raised a brow at that, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
“Really?” he asked, unable to hide the delightfulness in his voice.
“Yes! I didn’t even remove it when I took a bath,” you giggled, smiling at him with pure adoration.
His brows furrowed slightly at what you had just said, but before he could stop himself, a faint flush crept across his cheeks.
Test of faith.
His mind betrayed him for a brief second, wandering toward the image of you showering while still wearing the bracelet he had given you, carefully keeping it on even then. The thought was so sudden and inappropriate that he immediately felt ashamed.
He gulped harshly, disappointed in himself. He would have to repent later and ask the Lord for forgiveness for allowing such a crude thought to cross his mind.
Fr. Jeon could not entertain that desire. It was forbidden, a temptation that needed to be buried and forgotten before it could take root.
Yet despite the turmoil quietly unfolding inside him, he weakly reached over and gently patted your head.
His heart immediately thumped against his ribs when your eyes lifted to meet his, shining with unmistakable adoration at the simple gesture.
You beamed at him...letting out a small, delighted giggle that softened the moment even further.
Craving.
The past few weeks had been exhausting. As the city's new presider, he had been buried beneath paperwork and responsibilities. The church had also been flooded with parishioners seeking confession, and the lines seemed to grow longer with each passing day.
Hundreds of voices had passed through the confessional since then, each carrying their own sins, burdens, and regrets. Most of them faded from memory the moment absolution was given.
Yours hadn't.
Fr. Jeon leaned back in his chair and stared at the crucifix hanging on the office wall. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the window, casting long shadows across the room.
He had spent years strengthening his faith, disciplining his mind, and dedicating himself entirely to the Lord. Yet lately, all it took was a sweet smile, an innocent touch, or the sound of your voice to shake that discipline.
Closing his eyes, he lowered his head.
"Lord, forgive me," he murmured quietly.
A threat to his devotion.
-
“Ouch, fuck,” you groaned, pulling the tray of cookies out of the oven.
You were baking a fresh batch for Fr. Jeon today, trying out a larger baking tray than usual so you could make more cookies at once. Unfortunately, the experiment immediately backfired.
As you bent down to take the tray out, the hot metal edge accidentally brushed against your inner thigh. You winced, pouting as you watched your skin slowly turn red.
“This looks so bad,” you murmured, setting the tray of cookies down on the counter.
Luckily, you had been wearing long skirts these days.
Prepping the boxes of cookies you had baked, you decided to wear a purple long lacey skirt paired with a cute ruffled top. Your hair was styled into low pigtail braids, each tied with a ribbon at the ends. Holding the box carefully, you frowned slightly when you felt the bandage rubbing against your swollen skin.
“Good day, Fr. Jeon, I got you cookies!” you beamed.
You noticed he had become even busier after being appointed as the city’s official presider, though you didn’t realize he had been deliberately drowning himself in paperwork—anything to keep his thoughts from drifting where they shouldn’t.
“Good day, Y/N,” he replied, glancing up for only a brief moment to return your smile before his attention went back to the documents in front of him.
You frowned slightly and placed the box of cookies on the table in front of him. “Got you a different flavor! It’s red velvet this time,” you said, pointing at the box with a small, proud smile.
Fr. Jeon glanced at them, warmth flickering in his chest before he quickly pushed it down.
“Thank you, Y/N… that’s very kind of you,” he said gently, his tone careful, as though he was trying to place distance even while accepting your kindness.
You pouted almost immediately. The response felt far too brief for someone who had spent the morning baking for him.
Wanting his attention back on you, you shifted your weight and played with the ends of your braid, searching for something that would pull his focus away from the paperwork on his desk.
“You know… I even got burned earlier because I used a bigger tray and it hit me,” you said with a small chuckle, watching him carefully for a reaction. “But it’s fine, I’m just worried it might leave a mark,” you added with a light giggle, unable to hide the hopeful note in your voice as you waited for him to look at you again.
That got his attention immediately.
His brows furrowed as he looked up from the papers, concern breaking through the careful distance he had been trying to maintain. His eyes instinctively moved to your hands, searching for any sign of injury.
“Where is it? Let me see,” Fr. Jeon said, the concern in his voice unmistakable. His gaze lingered on your fingers and wrists, unable to find the burn he was looking for.
You had to fight the smile threatening to appear.
Slowly, you made your way around the table until you were standing beside him. From his swivel chair, he tilted his head back to follow your movement, his attention still fixed on your hands.
“It’s not there, Fr. Jeon…” you said softly. “Here...”
A small giggle escaped you as you gently lifted the hem of your long skirt.
His eyes widened instantly, panic flashing across his face before he could hide it. Before you could lift your skirt any higher, his hand shot forward on instinct, wrapping around your wrist to stop you.
“W-What are you doing?” he asked, nearly choking on the words.
The reaction was immediate, almost alarmed, as though the sight of you standing there with your hands on your skirt had caught him completely off guard. His grip wasn't harsh, but it was firm enough to halt your movement, his composure visibly rattled.
“I burned my thighs, Fr. Jeon… see?” you said innocently, lifting the fabric just enough to reveal the bandage wrapped beneath.
His lips parted at the sight, momentarily stunned.
The bandage sat against your soft thighs, the realization of how close he was to something so private making his mind go blank for a second.
He had never seen so much of you like this before—not this close, not this exposed in such an unguarded, unexpected way.
Your thighs looked so soft, pink and smooth… faintly marked by the redness around the bandage, drawing attention to how tightly you had wrapped it.
“It hurts a little,” you pouted, pointing at it.
His throat tightened as he swallowed hard, his gaze immediately faltering. Behind his glasses…his pupils were dilated, his ears and neck flushing red. His hands gripped the sides of his swivel chair tightly, as though grounding himself in place.
“Y-You wrapped it wrong,” he managed to say at last, his voice strained. He cleared his throat and forced his attention elsewhere, brows furrowing as he tried to recover his composure.
You tilted your head. “I did?” you looked down, trying to check your bandage when he suddenly stood up.
“I-I have a first aid kit in my cabinet. Sit in my swivel chair...I-I’ll wrap it for you,” he said quickly, already turning away from you as if creating distance would steady him. Without waiting for another reaction, he walked toward the cabinet near the bookshelves.
You bit your lip. “Okay…”
You obediently sat down in his swivel chair, a small, satisfied feeling flickering in your chest when you noticed how concerned…and slightly flustered—he seemed.
When he returned, he was holding a small first aid kit. Your breath caught slightly when he suddenly knelt in front of you.
“L-Lift your skirt, please.” he said, his tone firm but strained, his brows drawn together as he deliberately avoided looking too directly while waiting for you to comply.
Your heart stammered, green thoughts flowing inside your filthy brain.
With shaky, anticipatory hands, you lifted your skirt up to your inner thighs, purposefully raising it a little higher than necessary.
When he looked at your exposed thighs, his breath hitched. He tried to remain as calm as possible, forcing himself to focus. Slowly, he reached for the bandage, almost flinching when he felt the softness of your skin beneath the rough pad of his fingers.
“It’s too tight,” he said breathily, his hands trembling as he unwrapped the bandage from your thigh.
“Is it?” you said softly, watching the way his lips were slightly parted, his expression focused and controlled.
When the burn was finally exposed, his brows furrowed. “You should be more careful, Y/N.” he said quietly.
He took a small tube of ointment from the kit, applying a bit to his index finger before carefully spreading it over the burn.
You winced slightly at the contact, while his attention remained fixed and steady as he worked.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, his voice lower than usual as he briefly checked your reaction before focusing back on the injury.
You bit your lip. “J-Just a little bit.”
He sighed harshly at that, gently rubbing the ointment in with steady movements, though you could see beads of sweat slowly forming on his forehead.
“Just a little more,” he murmured almost under his breath, applying another layer of ointment. His control was thinner now, each movement more deliberate than the last, as if he was carefully holding himself together.
When he took the new bandage, he wrapped it carefully around your burn with precise, practiced hands. Once he was done, he immediately adjusted your skirt, smoothing it down with controlled efficiency…perhaps a little too quickly, as though creating distance from the moment itself.
When he stood up, you could see it more clearly now: the restraint in his posture, the tension in his jaw, the way his composure wasn’t as effortless as before. He looked like he was actively holding himself back from something, grounding himself before it showed too much.
“Thank you,” you said warmly, smiling up at him.
He looked down at you, tilting his head slightly at how innocent you appeared with your ribbons and braids.
Forbidden.
That night, Fr. Jeon fell into the forbidden temptation he had been trying so hard to resist.
It was ten o’clock, yet he remained inside the church office, refusing to leave the premises until his mind and soul were free of guilt.
Frustrated, he buried himself in scripture, but his thoughts kept drifting back to your soft, beautiful thighs and the rosary bracelet on your wrist that had stirred such sinful thoughts within him.
“Forgive me,” he muttered under his breath, his tattooed hand sliding down his slacks to palm his hardening cock.
His lips parted. It had been a very long time since he had touched himself...he had almost forgotten how good it felt. With a shaky breath, he slowly stroked his growing erection, murmuring apologies and curses beneath his breath.
He nearly rolled his eyes back at the sensation. It felt far too good. His cock hardened with alarming ease at the mere thought of you.
Lust.
With trembling hands, he slowly pulled his cock free from his slacks. It was thick and pulsing, a bead of precum already forming at the swollen tip.
When his tattooed hand squeezed the base, more fluid gathered at the head, coating his throbbing shaft.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispered under his breath, a groan escaping him as he rediscovered how good it felt to touch himself after so long.
It was sinful. Dirty.
He was still inside the church office, dressed in his usual black clerical shirt with its roman collar. Scripture lay open on his desk, and his glasses had begun to fog from the heat of his breath.
It had been years. He could no longer remember the last time he had touched a woman, nor the last time he had thought of one this way. When he devoted himself to the Lord, he had promised never to indulge in such acts again.
The longer he had restrained himself, the better it felt to finally release that tension after so many years. His cock almost ached. Thick and veiny, it twitched whenever he rolled the foreskin down.
“God, help me.” Fr. Jeon moaned shamelessly, jerking himself in slow, deliberate strokes, determined to savor every second of it.
He gathered spit in his mouth and let it trickle down his aching shaft. The added lubrication drew a groan from him. He bit down hard on his lip as the realization struck him once more—how good this felt, how much he had missed touching himself.
His thoughts drifted to you.
He imagined your sweet confession about still wearing the rosary bracelet he had given you... even while bathing. The thought lingered longer than it should have, unfurling in his mind as he pictured your small, delicate hands gliding a bar of soap across your soft skin. The rosary would brush against your chest with every movement, the beads shifting and sliding as you washed your nipples.
And then his thoughts wandered further, painting one image after another—your inner thighs, the way the beads might accidentally graze your soft skin as you shower. Each vision arrived unbidden, more vivid than the last, and far more difficult to suppress.
A sacred desire.
He was leaking more and more with every thought of you. The only sound echoing through the office was the wet rhythm of his hand jerking along his hard leaking cock.
Curious, he gathered a bead of precum between his thumb and index finger and brought it to his lips. The taste was salty, thick, and strangely addicting.
“Oh, God,” he groaned, collecting more of it only to taste himself again.
Your forbidden thighs.
The softness of them. The way he had been close enough to imagine burying himself in their warmth. The way they flushed pink beneath his touch. The way they looked so plump and beautiful, tempting thoughts he should never have entertained.
He imagined pressing kisses along your legs, lingering there as though each touch were an act of devotion. He imagined how soft your pussy would feel beneath his lips, how he would part your folds just to stare at your glistening cunt, worshipping it with the reverence of a prayer.
Fr. Jeon was close to climaxing, using memories of your past interactions to fuel his sinful fantasies. His hand was slick with saliva and precum, his thighs tensing as he struggled to hold himself back. He tried to edge himself, to prolong the moment, because the sensation felt far too good after so many years of restraint.
Your body. Even beneath your long dresses and modest blouses, he could tell you were beautiful.
It shamed him that it had been one of the first things he noticed when he saw you wearing that rosary. The way your chest filled out your modest clothing. The way your waist appeared so delicate beneath layers of fabric. The way he found himself wondering what was hidden beneath all that lace and decency.
It was a sin he was terrified to acknowledge. A sin he was terrified to put into words.
But you were beautiful, kind, gentle, and devoted in your faith.
He wanted to fuck you.
When the shameful thought finally broke free from the restraints he had placed upon it, he came hard, his release staining the dark fabric of his slacks.
A deep groan tore from his throat as he continued to stroke himself, milking every last wave of pleasure from his body. His thumb brushed along the underside of his cock, chasing the lingering sensitivity.
“Fuck, I’m still hard,” he muttered, biting his lower lip as he glanced down at himself.
It was understandable.
After years of abstinence, it wasn't surprising that his body responded so eagerly. The restraint he had maintained for so long seemed to have shattered all at once.
Yearning.
All night, instead of losing himself in scripture, he gave in to temptation. His hand jerked shamelessly over his cock as his thoughts returned to you again and again. To every forbidden desire he had tried to suppress. To every impulse he had buried beneath prayer, discipline, and devotion.
Hours passed unnoticed.
He had so much pent-up desire, so much neglected hunger, that he remained awake until dawn, caught in an endless cycle of pleasure in jerking his insatiable cock. The office grew quiet around him while the darkness slowly gave way to morning light, yet his thoughts never strayed far from your face, your kindness, and the feelings he had spent so long denying.
And the fantasies that filled his mind were so sinful that he feared they had carried him beyond forgiveness.
“This should do it,” you giggled to yourself, wrapping the bandage poorly on purpose so he would have an excuse to fix it for you again.
Your box of cookies was already prepared, resting neatly on your lap while you held a bible in your hands and waited for Fr. Jeon.
Unfortunately, hours passed with nothing but the sound of turning pages accompanying you. You flipped through scripture after scripture, occasionally glancing toward the door, expecting him to appear at any moment.
Yet he never came.
Confused, you eventually stepped out of the office to look for him yourself. Perhaps he was outside helping with the donations or speaking with parishioners, as he often did. But after wandering around the church grounds and checking every place you could think of, you still couldn't find him anywhere.
“Where is he?” you pouted to yourself, a disappointed sigh slipping past your lips as you made your way back to his office.
By the time you returned, the warm glow of sunset had already begun spilling through the stained-glass windows.
Realizing he wasn't coming, you reluctantly decided to leave the cookies behind along with a small handwritten note. The thought alone made your chest feel strangely heavy.
“I miss him already,” you murmured, frowning at your own words.
It wasn't as if you could simply call or text him. Despite spending weeks at the church, Fr. Jeon had never given you his number, and you had never found the courage to ask for it. Perhaps it was because you preferred seeing him in person.
The idea of receiving his answers through a text message whenever you had questions about scripture felt disappointing somehow. You liked sitting across from him, listening to his voice as he patiently explained things to you. You liked the little smiles he gave you, the way his attention never seemed rushed, and the comfort that came with simply being around him.
That day left you unusually sad. It was the first time you hadn't seen him at all. Even when he was busy, he always managed to stop by, if only for a minute. No matter how much work he had, he never missed the opportunity to check on you.
Avoidance.
You came back today...hopeful that you would finally see him again and finally ask where he had been yesterday, you were instead met with confusion when he didn’t appear again. You pouted when you noticed the box of cookies you had left behind was still untouched, exactly where you had placed it.
“That’s odd, he can’t miss a bible reading,” you murmured to yourself, already accustomed to his usual routine. He always visited the church at a certain time to pray quietly and read scripture before continuing his day, and you had grown used to waiting for him during those moments.
But days passed, and he was still nowhere to be seen.
The cookies you had prepared for him began to lose their freshness, and the papers he usually kept neatly on his desk started to gather dust. A strange sense of unease settled in your chest as you tried to understand what had changed.
You asked around the church, speaking to parishioners and volunteers, hoping someone might have seen him or could explain where he had gone. But what you learned nearly broke your heart.
He was still coming to the church every day. He just arrived earlier now.
You had always known his schedule well—he used to visit his office around three in the afternoon, which was why you were always there waiting at that time. You never thought he would suddenly change it without warning.
“T-Thank you,” you managed to say, forcing a small smile when one of the parishioners finally informed you that he had been seeing Fr. Jeon every morning. You were lucky this particular parishioner stayed at the church throughout the day, otherwise you might never have learned the truth.
Still, the information left you disappointed and strangely hurt.
The fact that he was visiting every day but never acknowledged your cookies. The fact that he never even left a note to explain. The fact that you had been waiting for him all this time, dressed in your usual modest dresses, as if your presence alone meant anything to him.
Tears slowly began to gather in your eyes for reasons you couldn’t fully understand. It felt almost like being rejected without a single word, like a quiet heartbreak you hadn’t been prepared for. It seemed as though he was suddenly avoiding you.
“What did I do?” you pouted softly to yourself, walking home with slumped shoulders as you tried to wipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks.
On the way, your thoughts turned over your last interaction with him. Had you been too bold? Had he noticed something in you that you thought you had hidden well? Had he finally realized that your devotion wasn’t as pure as it appeared?
The more you thought about it, the more desperate you became to see him again. And instead of wanting to reveal your true ill intentions, you found yourself wishing the opposite—that he would see how devoted you were, how deeply you admired him, how willingly you would sacrifice your dignity just to remain close to him.
Restraint.
You didn’t know that he had been avoiding you all along, because your sick plan had finally taken effect, his careful restraint crumbling like a rock under pressure.
Fr. Jeon couldn’t bring himself to face you. Even the slightest eye contact felt like it would burn through his skin, your presence alone eating away at whatever remained of his guilt until there was nothing left but discomfort and temptation.
Desperate.
You woke up early that day, preparing yourself carefully so you could see him. The constant overthinking had become unbearable, and you were convinced that seeing him would finally calm your thoughts.
Slowly, you walked through the church halls, your kitten heels clicking softly against the marble floor. Your wandering gaze passed over parishioners and silent figures lost in prayer, the morning air gentle and warm as it settled over your chaotic mind. The scent of the church—fresh flowers and holy water—was oddly soothing as you moved deeper inside.
But as you went further in, you nearly lost your balance when you noticed his office door slightly ajar.
Your heart began to pound in anticipation as you carefully approached. And when you finally looked inside, your eyes widened.
There he was.
In his usual black clerical long-sleeved shirt and roman collar, Fr. Jeon stood looking down at the box of cookies you had left a week ago.
Your heart sank at the realization that he must have seen the box of cookies days ago—and still chose to ignore it.
Taking a steadying breath, you stepped inside and gently closed the door behind you, locking it without hesitation.
“Fr. Jeon,” you said softly.
He looked up immediately, his eyes widening as though he had seen something he shouldn’t have. For a brief moment, he looked almost like he had seen a ghost. His entire body stiffened, tension tightening in his posture as he forced himself upright.
“What are you doing here?” His tone came out sharper than intended, almost accusatory, as he tried to regain control of himself by straightening his clerical collar and adjusting the bridge of his glasses.
You frowned at the reaction, slowly taking a step closer. Something in your chest cracked when you noticed how his expression shifted with each movement you made—his brows tightening, his gaze dropping as if he couldn’t bear to hold it steady on you for too long.
“You didn’t get the cookies I got you,” you said with a small pout, glancing between the box and him as if the answer should have been obvious.
Fr. Jeon bit his lower lip and closed his eyes for a moment, as though needing time to steady himself.
“I was… busy,” he said, his throat tightening as he swallowed hard. He almost stepped back when you moved closer.
You tilted your head at him. “Am I taking too much of your time, Father?” you asked softly, your voice carrying a sad little pout.
Patience.
Fr. Jeon exhaled slowly and heavily, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek as if trying to ground himself. Your presence alone seemed to shut down every carefully built wall he had been maintaining.
He looked down at your sad pout, and something in him nearly cracked at the sight of your sadness. For a moment, his composure faltered as fantasies surged back in, uninvited and overwhelming.
For the past few days, he had been deliberately avoiding you. He had started arriving at the church earlier, knowing you always came in the afternoon, carefully timing his routines so he would not run into you. He avoided his office as well, because every corner of it reminded him of you.
But this morning, he had come in anyway.
And the first thing he saw was the box of cookies you had left behind… along with a small note that said you missed him.
Desire.
For the past few nights, he had been jerking his cock non-stop. Ever since that first time, he couldn’t shake the feeling, couldn’t resist the urge to return to it again and again—groaning your name under his breath like a sacred prayer.
“No, sweetheart… I’m just—”
“I’m sorry… I just really like it here, and I love talking to you,” you said in a soft tone, stepping closer until he could smell your vanilla perfume, your pleading eyes pulling him deeper into your orbit.
Fr. Jeon swallowed harshly, his pulse quickening at how sweet and beautiful you looked for him.
“Sweetheart—”
“Would you like me to leave?” you asked quietly, biting your lower lip.
His eyes dropped to your lips. His hands curled into fists, every passing second testing his hard-earned faith and devotion.
But no...he would rather endure the torment alone, rather than risk touching your beautiful, tempting soul.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t give you much of my time right now. I’ve been really busy—” Fr. Jeon said with finality.
Suddenly, you rose onto your tiptoes to meet his height and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
“It’s okay, Father… I understand,” you whispered, your lips lingering dangerously close to his.
Succumbed.
Before you could pull away, his hands slid to your waist, steadying you—holding you in place more firmly than expected. You were about to look at him in confusion when he suddenly crashed his lips into yours.
Your eyes widened, your body nearly falling backward, but he held you firmly in place. His kiss was harsh and desperate—like a man starved, and you were the only water in a burning desert.
His tongue forced its way into your mouth, and the sound of his low groan sent shivers down your spine.
His brows were furrowed tightly, every bit of pent-up frustration spilling into the kiss. It was rough, consuming—his control slipping as he pulled you deeper into it, saliva beginning to spill messily between your mouths from how intensely he claimed your lips.
When he finally pulled away, his pupils were blown wide. His lips were red and swollen, his chin damp with both of your saliva.
He released your waist almost instantly, as though you had burned him.
Swallowing hard, he stared down at your flushed cheeks and swollen lips.
Oh God. What had he done?
“W-What—” you stammered, bewildered, still in shock at how easily Fr. Jeon—a priest with such a good reputation….had fallen into your lips like a man undone by weakness and lust.
Surrendered.
When you saw him step back, his brows furrowing as if he had just realized what he had done, you immediately grabbed his arms.
“I—I’m sorry, this is blasphemous, I—”
You pulled him back and kissed him again, softer this time. “I like you, Fr. Jeon. Please don’t avoid me,” you almost pleaded, tugging him down so you could reach his lips again.
His eyes widened. He shook his head immediately. “Y/N, n-no… this is wrong,” he blurted weakly, trying to grab your wrists as you pulled him closer.
Hearing those words from your mouth struck something deep in him, shaking his resolve. He couldn’t fall for you, he couldn’t kiss you, he couldn’t touch you...he couldn’t even think about you.
The only solution was to stay away—to pretend none of this had ever happened.
You shook your head. “Please, I want you so badly… there’s nothing wrong with this,” you insisted, trying to kiss him again, but he turned away. His eyes were heavy-lidded, weakened, the air in the office suddenly suffocating.
“You make me happy, Fr. Jeon… please,” you pleaded.
He shook his head firmly. “I am a priest, Y/N. This is forbidden,” he said weakly, his voice low and rough—like every word cost him something, like it was painful to say.
“But...why did you kiss me?” you pleaded.
Fr. Jeon groaned under his breath, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.
“Do you like me too, Fr. Jeon?” you pushed further, stepping closer, watching how much it seemed to strain him.
“Y/N, this is wrong—”
Your lips parted. “You...you like me,” you concluded when he didn’t deny it.
A small smile formed on your lips at the confirmation. Suddenly, the past few weeks made sense—the distance, the avoidance, the restraint. Everything clicked into place.
When he weakly let go of your wrists, you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, as if he had finally surrendered to you. His lips parted, his eyes clouded and hazy.
“Since when, Father?” you whispered, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
He shut his eyes tightly. The feeling of your hands on him was already enough to send him spiraling. His lack of physical affection was becoming obvious in the way his body reacted—his restraint slipping under something as simple as your soft, shallow touch.
“The first time I saw you at the church,” he whispered so low you almost didn’t catch it, as though even admitting it was a sin.
You gasped, your eyes widening at the revelation that he had noticed you from the very beginning.
“I-I thought… you didn’t recognize me. Y-You were always so busy and—”
“I did,” he cut in softly, his voice rough. “But it’s impure of me to stare at such beauty. I cannot do that.”
His gaze dropped to your lips again, weak and conflicted.
You gasped, a fond grin forming on your beautiful face. “Indeed, that’s very impure of you…Father,” you giggled.
Fr. Jeon groaned, attempting to step back again, but this time you pulled him closer and kissed him without hesitation. When you tried to part his lips with yours, you felt him shake his head, his hands gripping your waist to hold you back.
“N-No… we can’t—”
“Shh... it’s okay, Father… we’ll keep this a secret,” you whispered like a little devil in disguise, your pouty lips brushing against his again. “No one will know…”
Fr. Jeon groaned, your words sending shivers down his spine. The tension between restraint and desire tightened further.
“No, sweetheart, this is wrong… we should—”
“Please, Father…I’m already so wet.” you mumbled softly, looking at him with pleading eyes.
His eyes widened. It had been a long time since he had heard such crude words—especially coming from a pretty mouth like yours.
“T-That’s—” he stammered, his composure slipping further under the weight of you.
“Unholy?” you giggled, taking his right hand and guiding it beneath your long skirt.
His lips parted when his fingers brushed against the wet fabric of your underwear. His cheeks and ears burned red at the realization of how aroused you were.
You bit your lip, rising onto your tiptoes to whisper against his ear.
“No one will know.” you dragged your tongue along the shell of it, smiling when you heard him let out a soft, broken sound.
Blasphemous.
His lips grazed your inner thighs as his once devout, God-bound gaze now fixed on your bare, wet pussy. He knelt before you like you were some immaculate saint.
“Y-You’re so beautiful,” he said breathlessly, his fingers parting your folds and gently pulling back your hood to expose your sensitive clit.
You gasped loudly when he spat onto your center, his soft lips immediately wrapping around your clit, sucking in both his saliva and your wetness.
“Oh, God,” you moaned.
Fr. Jeon looked almost sacred between your thighs. Your skirt was bunched at your waist just enough for him to fully indulge in your pussy, while his black clerical shirt began to stain from how much you were dripping onto him. His glasses had grown slightly fogged from the heat of his breath against your body and the warmth between your legs.
He ate your pussy like a starving man, unable to get enough. His tongue pushed inside your tight cunt in search of more, drawing more juices from you, while the obscene sounds of his mouth filled the room. His throat worked with every swallow, adam’s apple bobbing as he greedily took in every drop you gave him.
“You taste so good,” he mumbled between your thighs, the vibration of his voice sending pleasure straight to your core.
You bit your lip, giggling softly while trying to keep your balance—you were leaning against his desk.
“Do you like how wet it is?” you asked, looking down at him as if amused by how much he was enjoying himself.
Fr. Jeon nodded against your cunt. “So wet and pretty,” he mumbled, sucking your clit until his cheeks hollowed, his dimples showing each time he latched on harder.
The way he ate you out was wet and messy, continuously spitting as his lips stayed locked around your clit. You gasped when he pinched your folds together, trying to eat your entire pussy into his warm mouth.
Every time you squirmed, he tightened his grip on your thighs, groaning under his breath as if he wanted to drown himself in you completely.
Whenever he pulled back to breathe, he took a moment to stare at your swollen, messy cunt—admiring it like something sacred, something almost holy in its beauty. He whispered how ethereal it was before spitting on it again and diving back in hungrily.
“H-How come you’re so good at that?” you moaned, looking down at his mouth as he remained relentless, your juices dripping down his chin.
Fr. Jeon looked up at you, adjusting the glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. “I’ve fantasized about this,” he said with a smile. “I imagine devouring your cunt while I jerk off my cock.”
He pressed a light kiss to the top of your clit before burying his face against you again.
Your eyes rolled back at the confession, a small smirk playing on your lips. “Hmm... really? That’s ungodly, Father.”
Fr. Jeon only groaned, pressing his face deeper until you were certain he could barely breathe. “I’m only willing to surrender myself to you.”
You gasped. The way he said it felt so wrong, so forbidden, and your pussy throbbed at the thought of him willingly committing such sinful acts, of him literally being on his knees for you.
When he felt your wetness growing, he lifted his head slightly to look at your cunt. Using his index and middle finger, he spread you open, watching as more of your milky-white juices gathered.
Fr. Jeon groaned, swallowing hard at the sight of how wet and horny you had become.
“You like that, sweetheart?”
He gathered your juices, the pads of his fingers sliding down your slit and making you flinch. Your breath caught when you watched him scoop your cum onto his fingers and bring them to his mouth, tasting your sweetness. "You got so much wetter."
“Fr. Jeon, oh my—”
He continued gathering the excess wetness, scooping up your cum until he was satisfied that you were no longer dripping. His brows furrowed as he sucked the collected juices from his fingers, unwilling to let any of it go to waste.
When he finally gathered the last drop, you frowned as he rose to his feet.
For a moment, you thought he was done. Then he brought his fingers, coated with your cum, up to your mouth.
“Open up, sweetheart.” he whispered, his gaze lowering to your lips, swollen from how hard you had been biting them.
You slowly opened your mouth, moaning when he slid his fingers inside so you could taste your own juices mixed with traces of his saliva.
“You taste like sin, don’t you?” he said softly, his fingers twirling inside your mouth, nearly making you gag.
You sucked on his fingers, your cheeks hollowing eagerly as you looked up at him with expectant eyes. “Mhm. I want to taste how pure you are, then,” you said softly, sucking his fingers the way you imagined sucking his cock.
His cock twitched inside his slacks, precum already gathering at the swollen tip.
He immediately shook his head. “Want to make you cum first, sweetheart.”
Before you could protest, he was already kneeling again, his tongue out as he buried his face between your thighs as though his life depended on it. His nose brushed against your swollen clit while his tongue alternated between slow, deliberate licks and eager suction, determined to draw every reaction from you.
The moment he sensed you were getting close, he pushed his tongue deeper, determined to suck every drop. You were about to push him away from the sudden wave of oversensitivity, but his grip on you tightened.
"I wanna swallow it, please."
You bit down hard on your lip, whispering curses beneath your breath as your body tensed. Your pussy pulsed uncontrollably, heat rushing through you as release overtook your senses.
He groaned at the way your body responded to him, your pussy throbbing vigorously against his tongue.
“I-I want to pleasure you too,” you almost cried.
He didn't stop eating you, even after you came he was sucking your pussy again. He had already made you cum several times just by eating you out. Even after your fifth orgasm, he still hadn’t stopped—still devouring you, drawing out every last drop before spitting it back down onto your slit, pulling your folds apart just to watch it drip, then catching it again with his tongue as if he couldn’t get enough.
You were already overstimulated, your thighs burning from his tight grip, but every time you looked down at him, another wave of arousal surged through you. His brows were furrowed, his eyes closed, almost as if he were praying.
“Please, I want to eat your pussy more.” he mumbled, looking up at you through his glasses, his tongue teasing slow circles around your very swollen clit.
It had been hours. His knees were already red from kneeling, and your back ached from leaning against his desk, yet he still had the stamina to continue, again and again. His cheeks and chin were slick from your cum.
You could see his slacks straining…his arousal obvious beneath the fabric—but he remained focused, almost pleading when you tried to push him away, his mouth still following your spent pussy as if he couldn’t let go.
“Please… one more, sweetheart,” he begged, his thumb soothing along your inner thighs.
When you shyly nodded, he parted your legs further, scooping up what remained of your release as it dripped down. His face pressed in close, his nose brushing against you as he worked, the carpet below you already damp with a mixture of saliva and your arousal.
Unholy.
The once-simple afternoon bible sessions had turned into something far more profane.
The moment you arrived at his office and locked the door behind you, his hands were immediately around you. He would drop to his knees, pushing your panties aside so he could press his face against your wet slit, sniffing your cunt before his tongue slipped out to taste your wetness.
“Hmm… do you like my pussy, Fr. Jeon?” you whispered, fingers tangling in his hair as he indulged you.
He groaned against you, burying his face deeper. “Like it so much.”
He was always so desperate—needy, almost whiny. It was obvious how deeply his years of abstinence had affected him, how long he had denied himself even the thought of such intimacy.
Every touch carried the weight of that restraint, as though all those years of self-denial had finally found an outlet. The way he ate your pussy for hours without stopping, the way he would suck your breasts until they turned swollen and red.
Every time you tried to touch him, he would pin your hands down instead. You had never really touched him yet—he always insisted on giving first, on worshipping you instead. He would say that pleasing you was enough,that eating your cum was enough for him, that devoting himself to your body was what satisfied him most.
“Shh, sweetheart… please be quiet.” he pleaded, his middle and index finger pushing inside your cunt, knuckles deep while massaging your spongy spot.
You were certain his fingers were already wrinkled from how long he had been fingering you, your nipples swollen and sensitive from how harshly he had been sucking them while rubbing your clit.
You bit your lip, tears almost forming in your eyes from how good it felt. “S-sorry, it’s just so good,” you mumbled incoherently.
Fr. Jeon groaned. “Yeah?” He spat down where his fingers met your pussy. “Hear that, sweetheart? You’re so wet for me.” he muttered, biting your nipple harshly while his fingers continued going in and out of your wet cunt, the sounds echoing inside the church office.
You were always a whining mess. Even if he hadn’t fucked you yet, your body was constantly left exhausted from how intensely he made you cum repeatedly. Your legs were always wobbly and shaking after each round, and you would always come home with new hickeys and bruises left by his harsh mouth.
He had the stamina to go on for hours and hours, until the entire afternoon was filled with nothing but wet sounds and your filthy moans echoing through his office.
You wanted to return the pleasure so badly, but every time he begged you to eat your pussy, your knees would go weak. You always gave him what he wanted, opening your legs and spreading your cunt for him.
It was one afternoon when you decided that you wanted to please him.
He was busy sucking on your nipples when you noticed how hard he was beneath his slacks. Your eyes rolling back when you saw him almost humping the air.
With a determined groan, you gently pushed him away from you. Your nipples were already pink and swollen.
“Let me taste you,” you pleaded, pressing a kiss to his cheek before trailing down his jaw.
He protested again, trying to guide you back against the couch.
“Sweetheart—”
“Please, Father.” you begged. “You always make me cum so good. I think I’d cum even harder if I got to taste your cock.”
You couldn’t deny that he always left you more than satisfied, constantly pushing you to the edge of overstimulation. Every time it happened, you could see just how hard his cock was. Sometimes, you would even catch the subtle movements of his hips while he was buried between your thighs, completely consumed by pleasuring you.
Fr. Jeon licked his lower lip, as though contemplating whether he could truly accept the idea of you being on your knees for him. It felt like too much to bear, as if he wasn’t ready for it yet. Shamefully, he was certain he would cum the moment your lips touched his tip.
But seeing you like this—begging, your lips drawn into a sweet pout—made his resolve weaken. His eyes fluttered shut helplessly as you eagerly knelt in front of him.
“Sweetheart,” he rasped, swallowing hard.
You looked up at him before slowly leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss against the bulge beneath his slacks.
A harsh groan escaped him. His cock throbbed beneath the fabric, and that simple, innocent kiss was almost enough to make him stumble.
When you pulled down his zipper, you gasped audibly at the sight of his black boxers, already soaked with a large patch of wetness from his precum.
“You’re leaking, Father,” you said with a pout, looking up at him with sparkling eyes.
He sucked in a breath, his hands curling into fists as he struggled to compose himself. You looked beautiful and completely undignified at the same time, and it was becoming harder and harder for him to resist.
Slowly, you tugged down his boxers...just enough to tuck his balls and free his hard cock.
Your eyes widened.
He was huge and pretty, twitching on his own and curving upward. Thick veins ran along his shaft, and his swollen pink tip glistened with precum.
You licked your lower lip, unable to hide your anticipation at the sight of him. Leaning forward, you pressed a soft kiss to the wet tip.
A strained whimper escaped him.
His hands immediately grabbed the sides of his clerical shirt, as though physically restraining himself from losing control over something as simple as your lips touching him.
“Look at me when I suck you, Fr. Jeon.” you said, raising a brow when you noticed him avoiding eye contact.
He bit his lower lip, trying to look down at you.
You gasped when his cock twitched the moment you made eye contact.
With a teasing look, you slowly sucked his mushroom tip while keeping your eyes on him, fluttering your lashes as you took him into your warm mouth.
He groaned harshly. He was about to close his eyes, but you shook your head immediately.
“Eyes on me, please.”
“Oh, God,” he whimpered, looking down at you through heavy-lidded eyes as you eagerly sucked his leaking tip.
You swirled your tongue along the underside of his cock, his eyes rolling back every time you repeated the motion. When you finally pulled away, you spat on the tip, your fingers immediately spreading your saliva and his precum along the shaft, leaving him even wetter and messier.
“Do you like how I kneel for you?” you asked before taking his tip into your mouth again, trying to take him deeper until his mushroom head brushed the back of your throat. The upward curve of his cock dragged against the roof of your mouth, drawing another whimper from him.
“Y-You look like a slut,” he blurted out through a moan, his jaw repeatedly tensing, his knuckles turning white from how tightly he was fisting his shirt.
You looked up at him and nodded obediently...like a good girl seeking praise.
He bit his lower lip. “My pretty slut.”
Fr. Jeon was trying so hard not to come. He wanted to savor the feeling of your tight mouth around him for as long as possible, wanted to hold on to it, to prolong it, but you were simply too much..too pretty, too warm. Every time you took him deeper, his resolve weakened a little more.
Your eyes were already beginning to redden, your throat struggling to accommodate his thickness. Drool slipped messily down your chin, and the wet, obscene sounds coming from your mouth only pushed him closer to the edge. Each swallow, each desperate attempt to take more of him, made his chest tighten with pleasure, his restraint slipping further and further away.
Whenever you pulled back to catch your breath, you would stroke his cock quickly with your hands and spit messily onto his tip.
Before the saliva could slide down his length, you would take him back into your mouth, licking along his shaft and tracing the prominent veins with your tongue before returning to the swollen underside of his head with soft, teasing kitten licks.
Using your free hand, you reached up to cup his balls gently, applying just enough pressure to make him whimper. The movement only made it harder for him to hold himself together, especially as you continued gagging on his cock like a good little slut.
The moment you noticed him clutching his shirt again, you immediately grabbed his hand.
“Use my mouth, Father,” you whispered, guiding his hand to your hair, silently urging him to take control.
Fr. Jeon groaned and shook his head, but your eagerness never wavered. You paused, waiting patiently for him, your eyes fixed on his face.
The moment you placed your hands obediently behind your back, he nearly cursed the Lord himself.
He weakly dragged a hand through your hair, gathering it away from your face before pulling you a little closer. His jaw tightened as he looked down at you, every ounce of restraint tested by the sight of your quiet obedience.
Grabbing your hair with both hands, he guided your face toward him before finally rolling his hips, slowly thrusting into your waiting mouth.
“God, you really are a slut,” he moaned, his composure unraveling a little more with every passing second.
Whenever he pulled back, you would twirl your tongue around the underside of his crown, earning a shaky whimper from him. Then, he would push you down forcefully onto his cock, your nose hitting his pubic hair as he lost whatever restraint he had left.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, sweetheart,” he whimpered.
Your mouth was already growing tired, but you remained determined, refusing to pull away. Tears gathered in your eyes and slipped down your cheeks as you struggled to keep up with him, yet you stayed exactly where he wanted you.
When he saw the tears in your eyes, he almost stopped.
But you eagerly took him deeper, deliberately pushing forward until your face was pressed flush against his pubic hair. Your mouth struggled to accommodate his thickness, soft gargling sounds escaping despite your efforts to suppress them, yet you took everything he gave you.
“God, fuck.” his eyes rolled back as he released hot, thick cum into your mouth.
He was about to push you away when your hands tightened around the backs of his thighs, holding him firmly in place...determined not to let a single drop of his cum go to waste.
“Sweetheart,” he said weakly.
When you finally pulled away- his cock slipping from your lips, you stuck out your tongue to show him his thick, milky cum. Your lashes fluttered as you held his gaze for a moment, letting him take in the sight before you swallowed.
Delirious.
“The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.”
Fr. Jeon stood before the congregation, one hand resting lightly against the pulpit as he prepared to proclaim the gospel.
“A reading from the Holy Gospel according to Matthew.”
“Glory to You, O Lord,” you whispered under your breath, your sparkling eyes lifted up toward him.
You were in your usual favorite spot—in the front row, like his favorite little church girl—your hair tied with a white ribbon, a long modest dress hiding the sinful image beneath.
Every time he spoke, his eyes never lingered on you. He looked over the crowd like a devoted priest, delivering his words slowly, with quiet passion. And whenever he did happen to find you in the congregation, he would only glance past you, as if you were anyone else.
You smirked inwardly. Who would’ve known that this same priest was literally begging on his knees to eat your pussy inside the church office?
When Holy Communion came, you made sure to open the first few buttons of your dress, revealing the rosary necklace you were wearing—the small cross resting between the plush curve of your cleavage.
“The Body of… Christ,” Fr. Jeon said slowly, his eyes drifting down to the rosary wrapped around your neck, the cross sitting dangerously above your breasts.
“Amen,” you said softly, parting your lips for him.
You almost smiled in quiet victory when you saw his jaw tighten—his composure slowly, subtly fracturing beneath the weight of your sacrilegious act.
When he placed the host on your tongue, you leaned in just slightly too far, letting your tongue brush against his thumb in a fleeting, deliberate touch. So small it could be denied. So intentional it could not be mistaken.
A soft hum escaped you as you pulled back, watching the shift in him—the way his body stilled, the way his breath caught. You were already turning away when his voice followed you, low and controlled.
“Meet me after this.”
You looked up at him, briefly thrown, but his gaze had already returned to the ritual at hand, as if nothing had happened.
Delight curled through you at the sight of him unraveling so carefully in public, holding himself together by force alone while you watched the cracks form in real time.
And when you returned to your seat, you could still feel it—the difference. His voice had deepened into something sharper, more distant. His posture stiffened as he finished the mass, each word now measured, restrained, as though he were forcing himself back into place one line at a time.
Wicked.
Sitting properly on the couch in his office, you waited patiently for Fr. Jeon. It was the first time you would see each other up close after mass, and the thought alone made a soft, bubbling excitement bloom in your chest.
You even brought a small box of cookies for him, carefully balanced in your lap, as if sweetness alone could disguise the anticipation curling beneath your ribs.
When the office door finally opened, you looked up at once and smiled.
He stood there still in his liturgical vestments. Over his white alb, he wore a flowing chasuble that draped heavily over his shoulders, embroidered gold catching the afternoon light that spilled through the glass windows like something almost sacred in itself. A white stole rested beneath it all, marking him clearly as the celebrant of the mass, a figure meant to be untouchable.
He looked absolutely breathtaking—so holy, so distant, so unreachable.
And yet, you already had him like a servant—willing, obedient, on his knees for you.
When he walked toward you, his expression was serious and unyielding. You stood up quickly, excitement lifting you, holding out your small gift for him.
“Good afternoon, Fr. Jeon. I got you cooki—”
The cookies slipped from your hands as he suddenly closed the distance, his hand wrapping around your throat. The rosary beads pressed sharply into your skin.
“I told you...that rosaries are not meant to be worn around your neck, didn’t I?” he said in a mocking tone, his voice low and controlled. His eyes looked darker behind his glasses.
His liturgical vestments suddenly felt overwhelming in this close space, no longer distant or ceremonial, but imposing, almost suffocating, as if you were only now realizing the weight of him in this proximity.
You gasped as his fingers tightened slightly around your throat, not enough to hurt—just enough to demand an answer.
“Y-You did, Father.”
“Mhm. I did,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly. “Didn’t I?”
A shiver ran down your spine as you felt the shift in him—how his composure had snapped so suddenly, as if the thin thread of his restraint, stretched in the presence of the Lord, had finally given way.
Dominance.
You gasped when he kissed you hard, cutting off your breath in an instant. His other hand bunched up the long skirts of your dress, hot palms slipping beneath the fabric to cup your warm pussy.
“You’re so impure,” he chuckled darkly, his fingers tracing over your clothed clit.
A soft moan escaped you as you tried to wriggle in his hold, but his grip at your throat kept you firmly in place.
“Sit on my desk and spread your legs,” he commanded, releasing you all at once—both your throat and your pussy.
With shaky legs, you moved toward his desk, climbing onto it and bunching your long skirt up around your waist before slowly spreading your legs wide for him.
Fr. Jeon walked toward you, his gaze fixed on the sight of you—so openly willing for him. The rosary cross rested between your breasts like a sin made visible, the white ribbons in your hair now looking almost tainted, your dress bunched up enough to expose your wet cunt to him.
His fingers closed around the rosary you were wearing. Your breath hitched as he slowly pulled it, forcing your neck to tilt forward with the motion.
“You’re such a whore, wearing this around me,” he said in a condescending tone, drawing you closer until he pressed a shallow kiss to your lips.
“I-Isn’t it pretty?” you asked weakly, still trying to tease him.
He let out a humorless chuckle. Without another word, he reached for the scripture on his desk. “I’ll show you what’s pretty.”
You gasped as he pulled the rosary again, forcing you forward while his other hand held the bible. “Open your mouth.”
Confused, you slowly obeyed, your eyes widening when he suddenly placed the book between your teeth.
“Hold still and bite the scripture,” he commanded sharply before spreading your legs wider.
You bit down hard on the book as he suddenly slapped your cunt.
“Mhmp!” you whimpered, eyes watering from the intensity of it.
Fr. Jeon raised a brow. He lifted his hand, bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean, his gaze locked on you as he slowly dragged his tongue over them. You bit down harder on the book when he used his saliva-coated fingers to slap your cunt again.
“Shh, quiet, sweetheart… there are other people outside- praying,” he said mockingly, tugging lightly on the rosary around your neck.
You bit down harder when he slapped your cunt again, pulling harshly on the rosary around your neck whenever your whimpers escaped.
“Poor baby… you want me to finger you?” he cooed, slapping your cunt once more. Your panties were already soaked, your arousal building from the relentless stimulation.
You eagerly nodded, drool spilling past your lips and onto the scripture beneath you. Your neck was beginning to ache and swell each time he tugged on the beads.
“Do you deserve it?” he asked, twirling the rosary between his fingers, playing with it slowly.
A tear slipped down your cheek when he slapped your cunt again. Your thighs tried to wriggle on the table, but he only pulled harder on the rosary in response.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m finally going to give you what you want,” he said, letting go of you.
Your eyes almost rolled back when you saw him kneel.
You drooled messily against the book when he flipped your panties aside, three of his fingers immediately slipping inside you to stretch your cunt.
“So tight, sweetheart,” he chuckled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your clit while his fingers continued to thrust inside you.
Each time his fingers pulled back, a fresh gush of wetness spilled out, revealing just how needy and aroused you were.
Looking down, you saw how godly he looked—kneeling so close to your pussy, lips parted as he watched his fingers disappear in and out of your tight hole.
“Mhmph,” you whimpered, his fingers knuckles deep inside you, brushing against your spongy spot and leaving you wriggly and tingly.
“You’re so soaked, sweetheart. It’s so hard to rub you properly like this… so, so wet.”
When he saw how restless you were getting, he suddenly removed his fingers. You were about to frown when he stood up, your eyes widening as he began removing his chasuble and slacks.
“This is what you wanted, right?” he taunted, finally revealing his hard cock.
It was already thick and hard, twitching on its own before he even touched it. Prominent veins pulsed along the girth, and his mushroom tip looked swollen and flushed. Using his fingers, he squeezed the plump head, drawing out more precum before spreading it along the shaft. He slowly rolled the foreskin down, his gaze fixed on your helpless body.
“Do you want this cock inside your tight little pussy?” he said breathily, jerking his hard cock in his hand…his eyes were heavy-lidded, lips slightly parted.
You nodded eagerly, tears spilling down your cheeks from anticipation. Your pussy pulsed hard, leaking more of your arousal down onto the table beneath you.
He chuckled, gripping both of your thighs and spreading them wider for him. “Hold your skirt up, sweetheart,” he murmured, as your long skirt kept drifting down while he positioned you.
With weak hands, you slowly bunched your skirt up. Your jaw was already aching from biting down on the book, but you were determined to be a good girl for him, biting down harder as your eyes turned red and your cheeks flushed, warm and swollen.
When he positioned his mushroom tip against your slit, you almost dropped the book. The feeling of his wet cock against your folds sent a sharp jolt through you.
“Gonna fuck you now, sweetheart,” he whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead.
Your teeth nearly ached from how hard you bit down when he suddenly pushed inside you. Your tight walls immediately sucked him in. You watched his lips part in shock, his eyes rolling back for a moment—before he could even thrust, you felt him spilling inside you.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he cursed under his breath, trembling as he suddenly came so hard inside you, his lips parting at how good your pussy felt.
You were so warm and tight that he was already convulsing. His grip on your waist tightened so hard it was almost painful. You were shocked—you hadn’t expected him to cum that quickly, but then again, it had been so long since he’d done anything like this. The pent-up frustration was overwhelming, and the moment he felt you, he was already shaking.
When you saw him trembling, you slowly removed the book from your lips. Your jaw ached, but you still managed to give him a small, weak smile.
“Mhm, am I tight, Fr. Jeon?” you whispered weakly, feeling him twitch inside you, filling you with so much cum that it had you feeling completely full.
"T-Too tight." he groaned.
His arms were growing weaker, still trying to push his cum deeper and deeper into your cunt. His cock was already overstimulated and softening, but he still wanted his cum buried deep inside you, some of it already dripping down your thighs.
He groaned, pushing his cock deeper until he was finally hard again. You could feel his mushroom tip swell once more, your pussy stretching around his thickening girth.
“You feel so good,” he whispered, eyes heavy-lidded as he looked down at you. He had come so hard he had nearly forgotten about the book he made you bite down on, his rational thoughts slipping away completely, leaving only the heat and the feeling of you.
You bit your lip, opening your legs wider. “Yeah? Do you miss having such a warm pussy around your cock?”
His lips parted...his right hand returned to your neck, fingers wrapping around your throat.
“What a dirty mouth you have,” he whispered breathily, like he was only just remembering why he was fucking you so hard in the first place.
He squeezed your throat, earning a loud whimper from you.
Before you could coo at him, he was already flipping you over, bending you against his desk. He immediately grabbed the book, shoving it forcefully into your mouth.
“You think I’m done, huh?” he taunted, kneeling down behind you.
You groaned, biting down on the scripture again, whimpering loudly when you felt him spreading your wet pussy from behind.
“Push my cum out for me,” he said, opening your folds and waiting for you to push it out.
You contracted your pussy, and a gush of his milky white cum spilled from your used hole. Before it could even drip onto the floor, his tongue was already there, scooping it up and swallowing everything until no trace was left.
When he stood up, you were left a trembling mess. Your eyes widened as he pulled on the rosary necklace, the beads wrapping around your throat like a collar. He used it as leverage before pushing his cock back inside you.
“Shh… bite down on the scripture. Let it silence your impurity,” he murmured behind you, thrusting deeper and harder until your body was nearly bouncing against the table from the force of it.
You wanted to moan so badly. The way his mushroom tip kept brushing against your g-spot felt so overwhelming. When he angled his hips in slow circular motions, your weak lips finally dropped the book, and you gasped as it hit the floor with a dull thud.
The moment he felt you slipping out of control, he stopped—only for you to immediately reach for the book. Before you could even grab it, he flipped you onto your back again.
“Fucking whore, can’t follow simple instructions while my cock’s deep inside you, huh?” he taunted, ripping the buttons of your dress just enough to expose your breasts.
“I-I’m sorry, I—”
You shrieked loudly when he suddenly slapped your nipples, the area turning immediately pink.
“Stay there,” he commanded.
You went still at once, your weak eyes following his movements as he reached into the bottom cabinet of his desk.
When he stood up again, he was holding a candle and a box of matches. “Hold this, sweetheart.”
He usually used those candles during scripture readings, letting the flame illuminate the pages.
You held it for him as instructed, watching as he struck a match and lit it, the small flame flickering to life before he set the match aside.
You turned slightly, glancing toward the window. There was still daylight outside—enough to see clearly. Before you could ask what he needed it for, he took the candle from your hand.
“Fr. Jeon, w-what are you—”
Your eyes widened when he tilted the candle downward, the wax threatening to drip onto your breasts. You gasped sharply when it finally landed on your nipple.
“Does it feel good?” he whispered, lowering the candle toward the other bud.
When the hot wax fell onto your other nipple, you moaned loudly, your hands gripping the edge of the desk as pain and pleasure collided.
It was hot and shocking—yet, for some reason, the sting felt addictive, almost intoxicating.
“Y-Yes, Father.” you bit your lower lip hard, watching as the candle was now directed toward your inner thighs.
He raised a brow, your nipples already covered in white wax. “Yeah? Does this get you wet?”
Before you could answer, he was already pouring hot wax onto your left inner thigh. The pain there was sharper, more intense—like the skin was far more delicate and sensitive. When you instinctively tried to close your legs, he held them open, spreading you wider as he moved the candle to drip more wax onto your right inner thigh.
“Oh, God,” you moaned loudly, the hot wax dripping dangerously close to your wet pussy.
You were already trembling. The mix of heat and pain felt overwhelming yet addictive, tears falling uncontrollably down your cheeks.
Fr. Jeon chuckled at you. “What a pretty little pain slut… I’m supposed to punish you with this, but you’re dripping like a whore.”
He grabbed your cheeks, raising the candle up toward your face. “Make a wish,” he whispered.
You looked up at him with weak eyes, your nipples and inner thighs still burning and oversensitive from the wax. With a faint, shaky smile, you told him your wish.
“Fuck me like a slut, Fr. Jeon." you said breathily.
He growled harshly, stepping back a little to admire his work on your body, how the wax was covering your skin like a sin, how your pussy was so swollen and red, yet your hole was still eagerly twitching to be used.
He tilted his head. “You want that, sweetheart?” he said sweetly, his tone contradicting what he had just done to you.
You nodded eagerly. "Please, use my body like a whore, cum inside me until I’m dripping full of your cum, abuse my tight little pussy until I’m all loose and gaping, release all your forbidden frustrations and destroy my dignity.”
Fallen.
You couldn’t count the number of times you came around his cock that night—his cock thrusting so hard and deep inside you that you could feel how stretched your pussy was.
Every time you tried to fight him, he would push your body down onto the desk, threatening to silence you with scripture whenever you tried to break free from his hold.
When you thought he was done, he would maneuver your body again, spreading your legs wide so he could fuck you hard. His cross necklace would dangle in your face with every thrust. Whenever you moaned too loudly, he would punish you by dripping hot wax onto your inner thighs.
He would always condescendingly praise you, telling you what a poor little girl you were, letting him use you for his own sick pleasure.
"God, you'd let me use you whenever I want wouldn't you? Letting me fuck this tight pussy inside the church, like a good little christian." he would whisper.
It was so lewd when he asked you to touch yourself using the hand that wore his birthstone bracelet, urging you to part your lips for him, watching how the beads would brush over your clit every time you fucked your fingers inside your used, swollen hole.
"That's right...stretch your pussy, sweetheart. I want you nice and gaping when I fuck you again."
Then he would pull your body up, forcing you to bounce on his cock while pressing the beads deeper into your throat. He held both of your cheeks with his free hand so he could continually spit into your parted mouth, watching it drip messily down your chin like a cheap filthy whore. "I love how sinful and dirty you are...so perfect for me."
Capitulated.
You never forgot him, after that night he vanished like a wind.
When you heard that he had suddenly been appointed to another city, it felt as though the ground had been pulled from beneath your feet. Overnight, he was simply gone. The weekly sunday mass was no longer presided over by him, and no matter how many people you asked, nobody seemed to have a clear answer as to why.
All you heard were rumors.
Some said he wanted to experience ministry in a different city. Others claimed he had become so busy that he was constantly traveling between churches, handling responsibilities in several places at once. Every explanation sounded vague, rehearsed, and unsatisfying.
You wanted to believe them. But you couldn't.
For months, you carried that bitterness inside you. A part of you convinced yourself that he had simply left. That perhaps everything you shared had meant far less to him than it had to you. The thought hurt more than you cared to admit, especially because, between the two of you, you had been the dishonest one. You had been the one who approached him with hidden intentions, who slowly seduced him, who carefully led him into your snare while pretending to be an innocent church girl.
Yet somewhere along the way, things had changed.
For all your lies, for all your schemes and carefully crafted devotion, you couldn't deny what had happened to your own heart. You had fallen in love with his kindness. Not because he was a priest. Not because he was forbidden. Not because winning his attention felt like a challenge.
But because it was him.
It was the way he remembered small details about you. The way he listened whenever you spoke. The way he always treated people with patience and warmth. Somewhere between the scripture lessons, the afternoon conversations, and the countless boxes of cookies, your feelings had become real.
Then, one afternoon, a letter arrived.
Your hands trembled as you opened it, your heart pounding with a mixture of hope and dread. As your eyes moved across the page, tears immediately gathered in them.
All this time, you had believed he left because he wanted to.
The truth was far worse.
Someone had noticed. Someone had seen the way he treated you differently from everyone else—the way his gaze lingered a little too long, the way his voice softened whenever he spoke to you, the way he always seemed to make time for you no matter how busy he was. And eventually, they had discovered what happened behind the closed doors of the church office.
Tears slipped down your cheeks as you continued reading, your vision blurring with every line. For the first time since he disappeared, you finally understood why he had left.
The moment the parish discovered what had happened, he immediately apologized—to the church, to his superiors, and most of all, to the Lord. He had even offered his resignation, believing he was no longer worthy of his position.
But they refused. The parish forgave him.
They told him he was too kind, too devoted, too valuable to lose over a mistake. Instead of removing him from the priesthood, they gave him a chance to start over in a different city, far away from the rumors and whispers. They told him that what happened was a test of faith. A temptation. That God would always be stronger in his heart than any earthly attachment.
You were the temptation they spoke about.
You never wrote back, you never tried contacting him again. Because if he had truly wanted you, he would have resigned. He would have walked away from the collar, from the church, from the life he had chosen long before you entered it.
He would have chosen you.
Instead, when forced to decide between you and God, he surrendered himself to God. And that answer was enough.
With a deep breath, you entered the confession booth. You wanted to confess your sins, you wanted to move on.
It had been two years, and somehow you were still holding on to him.
Whenever Sana mentioned his name, your eyes would sting with unshed tears. Whenever you heard stories about him…how successful he had become, how respected he was as a priest now…an ache would settle deep inside your chest.
You could no longer step inside a church without thinking about him.
The stained-glass windows, the scent of incense, the quiet hum of prayer before mass. Every sacred thing had become tangled with the memory of him, until devotion and desire were no longer things you could separate.
So, with a heavy heart, you finally decided to let him go.
Sitting inside the confessional that afternoon, your fingers twisted nervously in your lap as you gathered the courage to speak.
A thin wooden partition stood between you, a barrier meant to separate priest from sinner, confession from judgment, devotion from temptation.
“Bless me, Father…. for I have sinned.” you said softly, behind the confession grille.
Your voice…soft and unforgettable, echoed through the small confessional booth.
The familiar scent of vanilla wrapped around him like a memory he had spent years trying to forget.
Genre: fantasy!au, demon!au, haunted apartment, horror (its not too bad bc im a coward guys), slow burn, forced proximity, supernatural romance, angst.
Summary: Jungkook is trapped in an attic, cursed to win affection from those who fear him most. Every tenant has fled until you move in. With your budget and patience on the line, you refuse to leave. Now you’re stuck sharing a space with a creature no priest, shaman, or exorcist can get rid of, and neither of you can escape.
Warnings: supernatural/fantasy themes, mentions of blood and physical attacks, mild language.
Word count: 9.3k
a/n: wrote some parts while listening to less by olivia, so maybe yall should do it too (just listen to it on repeat the way i did!) hopefully the chapter does justice to the wait, since you’ve all been waiting for it for a while now hehe 🤍
check out my: masterlist | banner creds to: vzzartt
“You did this,” Eris said to you. You wanted to say no. You wanted to tell Jungkook not to blame himself, that none of this was his fault, that you were scared, but you were glad he came. You wanted to tell him you were glad you got to see him one more time, even here, even like this, even if the last thing you saw was him on his knees because of you.
Jungkook seemed to understand it anyway, because his face changed before the knife moved. His eyes widened, and he moved forward like instinct had finally broken through restraint.
But Eris was closer to you than he was.
The knife shifted with a little more pressure, and that was all it took. You heard Jungkook calling your name, and you never imagined you would hear him sounding so broken while doing so.
One moment, you were looking at Jungkook, his eyes wide with horror, at his hands reaching for you even though he was too far away.
And the next, there was nothing.
"Oops, I didn't mean to kill her," Eris said as she smiled.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You remembered the pain you felt from the bruises and scars on your body, but you somehow woke up with no pain at all.
It took you far too long to realise that the pain was gone. Because for so long, your body existed in a constant state of pain that you forgot what it felt like to simply be without something aching, throbbing, or burning beneath your skin. The absence of pain was almost more disorienting than the pain Seokjin and Eris inflicted on you.
You could not tell whether it has been a full day since you were kidnapped or only a few hours. Time blurred beneath the pain that never seemed to fade. Since being kidnapped the second time, there has always been something, like an ache in your ribs, a sting along your skin, and throbbing somewhere you could not reach or even see.
Now there was nothing and somehow that frightened you more.
The air felt different wherever you are now.
It had no warmth or coldness, it was the perfect temperature for you, just the way you like it. You breathed in and it felt so easy for you. Your ribs did not hurt, your chest did not tighten, for the first time since Seokjin and Eris kidnapped you, you did not wince at the simple movement of breathing.
You looked around and all you could see is white.
Everywhere you looked was just white extending in every direction.
You pushed yourself up to your feet, half-expecting your legs to give out beneath you, but they didn’t. There was no tensed pull in your muscles, no weakness felt in your knees. You could stand up so easily, then take a step and another step.
Your body then moved as though nothing happened to it, like being kidnapped was just a dream. Then you started to walk around the room, the white space, or wherever you were in.
You noticed that there were no walls, corners, or doors. There was nothing that could tell you where the space begins or ends, and when you looked up, there was only white stretching endlessly above you. You couldn’t figure out if it was sky or if it was an illusion, because it was all just white.
You, well, any normal human being would have panicked. But instead, the longer you stood there, the calmer you felt. Whatever this place was, it softened and calmed something inside you.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Author’s Note: from this point onward, ALL italicised text represents The Ancient One speaking!!!
You remembered everything that happened to you clearly.
You could still feel the blade against your throat, you could feel your blood dripping when the sharpness of the blade cut through your skin. You remembered it all.
You could still see Jungkook on his knees against the stone floor, one tear slipping down his face. You remembered when his hands were stretched out towards you, reaching to you across a distance he was not able to close in time.
You remembered the last thing you felt was how cold it was.
It was a special knife, my dear child.
The voice was all around you, it was everywhere around you and did not come from a specific direction. You turned around instinctively, looking for a face, a body, something to assign the voice to.
There was still nothing but the white space, "Who are you?" you asked.
They would often refer to me as The Ancient One
You did not know what it meant for something or someone to be The Ancient One. Maybe someone told you about it before. Maybe Father Gabriel mentioned it once, or Jungkook explained it during one of those long days when the two of you had nowhere else to be. But you just could not remember it and right now, all you knew was what your Demon senses and your human intuition was telling you: that The Ancient One was not just powerful, it was above power. The Ancient One felt like the being every realm answered to, the one above every king, prince, angel, demon and humans; the boss of every boss.
You looked around again at the white space, "So," you said, "you are God."
The voice, or The Ancient One, did not confirm or deny it. You had a feeling it didn't say anything because the answer was obvious, and even you already knew the answer without The Ancient One answering your question.
"Then I really am dead, aren't I," you sighed, before adding, “where are you? why can't I see you?" as you looked around again at nothing but the empty white space.
I am all over, I do not have a form.
You just nodded, The Ancient One pretty much sums up what God was described to you on Earth. Nothing, but also everything and everywhere all at once.
You exhaled slowly, before quietly saying, "I just wanted a normal life.”
The words came out before you could stop them, it was one of those things that came up when you were just too tired to pretend you were fine. You have said something similar to Jophiel and even to Seokjin.
Would you go back to your previous life? One where you did not know Jungkook?
You thought about the question for some time. Then you opened your mouth only to close it again. You expected this question to be easy to answer. For weeks you have been angry about everything Jungkook's existence has taken from you. Your family, friends, students, your previous life, and your chance at an ordinary life and death.
All because a cursed Demon prince ended up in your studio apartment and you were just too stubborn about rent to move out. So you waited for yourself to say yes to the question.
But it never came out of your lips.
You thought of Jungkook watching a sitcom from behind the sofa, telling you what the character would do next. You thought of him lying beside you when you had a fever, his body radiating cold through the layers of blankets. You thought of Jungkook standing outside your door for weeks because he did not know how to talk to you, yet didn’t want to leave you all alone. You thought of Jungkook on his knees on the cave floor with one tear on his face begging Eris to let you go.
"No," you replied.
You were more certain of your answer than anything that you have felt in months, "No. I would want both. I would want my life on earth and I would want to have known him. But if I had to choose one without the other…” you stopped before continuing, "..I would choose him."
We cannot have all, my child.
"But you are the Ancient One," you said, and the stubbornness in your voice was the same stubbornness that kept you in a haunted studio for months, "I assume you have existed before Kratos and Heaven. Could you not reverse things? Could you not simply fix this?"
The Ancient One did not answer and for a moment, there was only silence.
"So what happens to me now?" you asked, breaking the silence.
What do you want to happen to you?
You looked at the white space that surrounded you entirely, and thought about the question The Ancient One just asked you. You wondered exactly what you want, was it your old life back with all those you loved and cherished? The ordinary life where you were guaranteed a normal death? Or do you actually want to stay a Demon and live your life with the three friends you have? A completely new life in a new body?
"I don't want to die," you said firmly, "I want to live, and I want to do that with Jungkook."
You said it before you could stop yourself. But once the answer was out, it did not feel as scary as it sounded in your head. It just felt like you have known it for a while and you have felt it for a while, you were only just saying it out loud now.
There you have it. You have figured out what you are truly feeling.
"So I’ll live, right?" you asked, the hope that flickered in your chest felt stupid to you, “even after I was stabbed with that special knife you mentioned?”
The Ancient One did not answer your question. But instead, the floor beneath your feet changed. One second the white space stretched endlessly around you and the next, the ground turned clear beneath you like glass.
You looked down and noticed the cave was now below you and you dropped to your knees when you realised what was happening. Your hands pressed against the transparent floor as you leaned closer, pulled towards the sight of the cave.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Through the glass floor, you could see the cave below so clearly.
Jungkook was on the ground, holding your lifeless body against his chest. And a few feet away, Jophiel stood over Eris with one hand around her throat and his wings were spread wide enough to reach both sides of the cave.
You have never seen Jophiel look like that before, with his wings spread out as if to assert his dominance. From that sight alone, you could tell Jophiel was furious. His anger filled every part of the cave until there was nowhere for Eris to hide.
Eris laughed even with Jophiel’s hand around her throat and her feet barely touching the ground, she laughed.
"You wouldn't dare," Eris said, still sounding so sure of herself, “no angel would dare. That is not what your kind do. Killing is not what you do, it never has been and it never will be."
Jophiel’s grip tightened on Eris’s neck, "You killed a human," Jophiel said.
You never heard Jophiel sound like this before. He did not sound like the gentle Jophiel who sat at the edge of your bed, brought you books from Earth, and this was also not the same Jophiel who always seemed to know what to say when you were feeling too overwhelmed.
Jophiel’s voice sounded so different. There was something in his voice you never heard before. It was not just anger. His voice was stripped of everything gentle, of the careful way he spoke to you, and the patience he always carried.
"You know what Humans mean to Angels," Jophiel added, "you have always known that and that Human happened to be someone I am very fond of."
"You are fond of me," Eris giggled, "you love me, Jophiel, you have always loved me. Whatever you think you feel for that thing is fleeting and stupid."
"No, Eris," Jophiel firmly said, “not anymore.”
While Jophiel and Eris were exchanging words, Jungkook said nothing.
You watched him from above, trying to make sense of what you were seeing. He didn’t seem to be thinking of anything, Jungkook was just looking at you. It was as if Jungkook could not believe you were really there. His fingers moved carefully over your jaw, your bruised cheekbone, your wrists, and the dried blood all over your clothes and skin.
What was Jungkook supposed to feel now? What was the Demon prince supposed to feel and acknowledge?
Somewhere between the studio and North Kratos, Jungkook started to believe there would be a future with you in it.
Jungkook imagined a life where he would come back from whatever the citadel demanded of him and find you in the North Tower, sitting by the window with a book in your hands, annoyed about something.
Jungkook never called it a future, saying it out loud would have meant admitting that it was something he wanted, and wanting things had never come easily to him. Yet Jungkook has been moving towards what he imagined and wanted anyway. In all the small, awkward things he has never done, but did so for you.
But what Jungkook has imagined is now gone.
His father was right, and Jungkook hated that his father, The King, had been right: that no Demon is ever safe, and nothing in Kratos was ever really permanent, not even the thing you most carefully tried to hold.
Still looking at you, Jungkook called out to his friend, "Jophiel."
"Yes?" Jophiel said, his attention still on Eris.
"Kill her," Jungkook said, with a flat voice like there was no emotion left in him.
"You didn't have to ask," Jophiel replied.
You could not look away from what happened to Eris, even though part of you wanted to. Jophiel was not cruel in the way Seokjin was cruel, he did not seem to take any pleasure in what he was about to do, he was just very thorough about it. Jophiel didn’t reach for any weapon, he didn’t need one because he himself, was the weapon. He extracted some light from his body, and it wrapped around Eris before she could move.
“You wouldn’t fucking dare, Jophiel,” Eris said.
Jophiel looked at her with no sympathy or even a trace of the affection he had once shown her, “This should have been done long ago,” Jophiel said flatly before moving the light through her.
And then, Eris was simply gone.
You noticed then that Seokjin was gone too. The cave entrance was empty. You figured he must have slipped away while everyone had been looking at Eris or at your lifeless body. Even now, Seokjin has chosen his moment carefully.
Jophiel turned his head towards the cave entrance and stood still when he realised Seokjin was nowhere to be found, “Seokjin ran away,” Jophiel snapped.
Jungkook did not answer straight away, he was still holding you against his chest, “He won’t be far,” Jungkook said at last, “he knows I’m at my limit. He can feel it,” Jungkook’s grip tightened slightly around your body before adding, “Seokjin can feel my wrath from anywhere in Kratos.”
"I don't doubt it," Jophiel responded, because he too could barely shield himself from the wrath radiating off Jungkook.
Jophiel then walked towards Jungkook, lowering himself towards the cave floor across from Jungkook. Your body was still in Jungkook’s arms between him and Jophiel. The pain on Jophiel’s face when he looked at your body was so raw that looking at him hurts you too.
Jophiel looked up and he, who has seen thousands of years of Demons and their wars and cruelties, went very silent and still, as he didn’t know what to say or do because his friend was crying.
Jungkook was visibly crying.
It was not only one drop of tear like what Jophiel saw minutes ago. This was Jungkook's face covered in tears. All the things that usually made him Jungkook were gone, and there was nothing left in Jungkook except grief and anger.
Jophiel has known him for centuries and never once he has seen him like this.
The grief coming off Jungkook was now so deep that Jophiel did not know how to make sense of it. It was not anything he understood about Demons. It was not lust, wrath, or pride turned into something else. Jophiel said nothing for a long time, for once, he really did not know what to say.
"Jungkook," Jophiel said finally, "I'll take ____ to Heaven. There should be a way. I'll find a way for you.. and for her."
Jungkook didn’t say anything back, he just stared at your body in his arms. He tried to remember, watching you now, if he had ever seen you truly happy since the transformation. He went back through every day in the North tower, every conversation, every moment he had listened from the corridor, or the training ground, or the window of his father's study. Jungkook has seen or heard you laugh with Jophiel. He remembered hearing you eat the Baskin Robbins ice cream with Jophiel and Woojin. He even remembered the argument the two of you had, he remembered every word of it.
But Jungkook had also seen you happy on Earth. Jungkook watched you for days from the studio before you even knew he was there. He remembered you packing your lunch, humming off-key under your breath, sitting at your desk with your ankles crossed as you marked the papers of your students.
He saw who you were when your life was still yours. And now, kneeling on the cave floor with you in his arms, tears drying on his face, Jungkook understood something he has been avoiding for a long time.
You have never been that happy in Kratos.
"Having her come back again as a Demon would be selfish, wouldn't it," Jungkook said, it was more of a statement than a question, "Jophiel," Jungkook said, still looking at your face, "I have never felt this way before. I don't know what to call it. But I know that I cannot stand to watch her suffer because of me anymore. I cannot stand to know that every moment she spent here was harder than the one before it because of choices I made and things I failed to prevent."
"What are you saying?" Jophiel asked his friend.
"I think," Jungkook said slowly, "this is what humans call love."
Jophiel did not move an inch hearing his Demon friend’s confession.
"Take her," Jungkook said, "save her. Even if she becomes a human again, or something else entirely, or even something I don't have any right to follow into. But I don't think it would be good for her to stay with me. I don't think I am something she should have to keep surviving."
“Jungkook,” Jophiel said firmly, it was a warning to stop before Jungkook let himself believe any of it was his fault.
"I need to deal with Seokjin and his army," Jungkook said.
Jungkook kissed your forehead. He left a kiss so gentle that watching it from above made you shed tears.
It was so gentle but it also felt like a goodbye.
Jungkook stayed there for a second too long before pulling back. Then he carefully and slowly shifted you in his arms, getting ready to pass your body to Jophiel.
"Wait," Jophiel's voice came out harsher than he intended it to be, "wait one fucking minute. You are the only one she knows in this entire world of ours, do you understand that? You are the only creature here that she chose. Not because of obligation and not because she had no other options. She chose to stay every time she woke up in the morning and she could have decided the citadel was too much, packed everything, and started screaming at you to find another way out. She chose you every single time. And you want to decide, right now, that she would be better off without you?"
"She has never been happy in Kratos," Jungkook replied.
"And you think she will be happy anywhere without you?" Jophiel asked, "You think she will wake up somewhere else, feeling healthy, happy, and better? You think that choosing this is better for her?"
"She will suffer without you," Jophiel added, “she will suffer even more greatly, and she will know that you chose this for her without asking her."
Jungkook stood very still. He thought about what Jophiel said, looking at it from every available angle. Jungkook thought about what the North tower room would feel like without you in it, he thought about what it would feel like to stand outside a door that no longer had you on the other side of it.
"I'll call for you once I'm done with Seokjin," Jungkook finally said.
"I'll search for you even if you don't," Jophiel replied immediately, "I am not letting you do this to her. I am not letting you make this decision before she has the chance to make it herself."
Jungkook did not answer.
He placed you in Jophiel's arms with the same care he had shown every bruise and broken part of you since he got you back. Then Jungkook walked towards the cave entrance without looking back.
Because if Jungkook looked back, he was not sure he would be able to move forward at all.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Author’s Note: from this point onward, ALL italicised text represents The Ancient One speaking!!!
In the white space, you sat on the transparent floor and you haven’t been able to stop your tears from falling ever since seeing Jungkook and Jophiel in the cave.
You kept staring at the cave entrance where Jungkook had just disappeared and you could feel the Ancient One's quiet presence in the white space around you, as if it understood that you were not ready to say anything yet.
Jungkook still wanted to save your life yet step out of it completely, because he believed letting you go was the kindest thing he could do for you.
You thought about the lyrics from a song you could not remember the name of, something you listened to on earth in a life that felt like someone else's now.
And now, watching Jungkook leave, you understood the lyrics in a way you never had before. It was easy to call it love when someone said they were letting you go for your own good.
It sounded selfless, noble, even.
But sitting there, with tears running down your face, all you could feel was the pain of being left behind.
If this was what loving someone looked like, you thought, then maybe you wished Jungkook loved you less.
Because maybe then, Jungkook would have stayed.
I have never seen my Demon children become so aware of their feelings the way Jungkook does. He is a very powerful Demon, full mastery of all seven traits, and a bloodline built from the two oldest citadels in Kratos. And what he uses all of that power for, in this moment, is to try to do what he believes is the right thing for someone else. That is rarer than any of his other gifts.
"It's the wrong thing to do, what he believed I might want, is not what I want at all," you said as you pressed the palm of your hands against your eyes, "so now, again, my question is what will happen to me?"
What do you want to happen to you?
"I want to live. I want to be with Jungkook," you stated.
There you have it.
"So I'll live?" you asked.
The Ancient One did not answer in words, but the floor beneath you changed again and through it you could now see not the cave but the territory beyond it, the ridge and the border of North Kratos.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Jungkook moved through Seokjin's followers the way fire spreads in a bushfire, he was quick and impossible to contain.
You watched from above and felt the glass floor vibrate with the force of Jungkook’s energy even from the distance of whatever existed between the white space and the world below.
Jungkook’s wings were spread to their full width for the first time since you have known him, and the span of them was enormous that it filled the wide ridge path from wall to wall, blocking the path and space simultaneously.
The first group charged at Jungkook at the same time, there were twelve of them and they were not weak, these were not low-ranking soldiers or untrained followers.
Seokjin spent years building this, and these twelve Demons listened to Seokjin's philosophy about unrestrained Demon powers and believed that he was right. And they charged Jungkook with the belief that they were the strongest thing in the room.
Boy, were they wrong. And so were you, who couldn’t help but be terrified of Jungkook losing against twelve Demons attacking him at the same time.
Jungkook moved through these twelve Demons with such focus and precision that you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips. But what surprised you even most was although he was angry, Jungkook wasn’t acting based on his rage.
After what happened to you in the cave, you expected this to be the moment he would finally lose control, but Jungkook did not or has not lose control yet. The Jungkook you are seeing is not some mindless Demon tearing through bodies in a blind rage. He was calm and focused, and terrifyingly so. Every movement Jungkook made was somehow calculated, his hand caught his opponent’s wrist before they could raise their weapon, and he knew which Demon would try to attack him next.
It was as if Jungkook could read their movements before they decided to move themselves. And five of them were down before you could properly take a look into what was happening.
The remaining seven met the same end before they could even express their fear. Jungkook’s sword flashed through the air again and again, and by the time the last body fell, he was still standing exactly where he had started.
The ridge path has now cleared for Jungkook.
More Demons came from the eastern side, spreading out in different angles to try to trap and catch Jungkook. You feared for his life as there were now even more Demons from different angles which would force Jungkook to choose who to defend himself against first.
But Jungkook only tilted his head before moving and attacking. At one point, you gasped when one of the Demons managed to land a hit on Jungkook. A heavy blade cut across the armor on his shoulder, hard enough that your own body flinched even from where you were standing. But Jungkook did not slow down.
Something in the air changed not long after he was hit.
Jungkook’s power seemed different, you always knew he was powerful, but his energy now seemed different. Your Demon senses told you that this energy you felt from Jungkook was the North's founding energy responding to the North's truest son fully claiming it. It was the territory itself recognising him, and every Demon near him could feel the difference between who they thought they were fighting and who they were actually fighting.
By the time the ridge cleared entirely, you have stopped counting how many Demons Jungkook has killed.
"He's furious," you said, stating what you could see and feel even from above. The Ancient One said nothing, but you felt it agreeing and acknowledging what you said.
"He's never going to stop until he kills Seokjin, is he?" you asked more to yourself than The Ancient One.
The floor below you shifted, widening and pulling back to show you more of the landscape, and now you could see the border itself, the flat ground between the North and the Lee’s territory.
The North's garrison forces were already there, deployed along the line in tight formation. On the other side of the line, The Lee army was positioned and God, they were enormous, the largest standing army in Kratos were just waiting for their command.
And at the boundary line, standing alone, was Seokjin.
Seokjin was not surrounded. He stood alone at the border with his wings spread behind him and his arms at his sides as he watched Jungkook approach him. From above, you could still make out the expression on Seokjin’s face.
Seokjin looked pleased with himself. Like everything up until now had only been a show, and this was the part he was waiting for.
Seokjin was smug enough to think he could still win this.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Jungkook walked from the ridge path onto the open border ground and the Jeon Princes were now visible to each other again. The Jeon soldiers held their ground and across from them, The Lee army did the same.
Jungkook walked slowly towards his brother. He did not rush at all nor did he draw any of his weapons. You understood then that this would not be a quick and easy fight between two brothers. This would not be over in a few violent seconds as this was something that had been waiting for them for a long time.
This was a fight they both had been heading towards for years.
Jungkook stopped walking when he was close enough to his brother to speak without raising their voices.
"I wondered if you would come," Seokjin said.
"You knew I would," Jungkook replied.
Seokjin looked at his brother for a moment, reading him the way The Kim read everything, extracting meaning from his little brother’s posture and expression, "She's dead," he said.
"Yes," Jungkook said flatly.
"I did not plan for that. Eris was not supposed to kill her, she was just supposed to be leverage, not a dead body."
"It doesn't change anything," said Jungkook.
"No," Seokjin agreed quietly, "I didn't imagine it would."
Seokjin looked out at The Lee army behind him and then back at Jungkook, "I built all of this. The camp, my followers, the Lee alliance, the years of it. And standing here I keep coming back to the same thing. I built all of this because I am the one who deserves the throne."
Jungkook said nothing to his brother.
"That's all," Seokjin said, “I am the rightful heir to the throne, you are not. The Lee will hold until I give them an order. You either willingly give me the throne.." Seokjin looked at his brother before adding, "or we fight. Just the two of us without the involvement of the Lee or Jeon army, like it always should have been."
"Yes, fight," Jungkook said. Jungkook replied to Seokjin’s question so quickly that you wondered if Jungkook knew exactly what was about to happen.
Seokjin nodded once in response, and then the first prince of the North attacked his younger brother, Jungkook.
Seokjin was fast and that was the first thing you understood watching from above with your hands pressed flat against the glass floor and your knees cold against the transparent surface. You have seen Jungkook move in the ridge path and understood what his power looked like, and you assumed Seokjin would be less powerful.
But Seokjin was not less powerful. His power just worked differently. Seokjin was the complete opposite of his youner brother. Seokjin was explosive with his movements, he hit hard and without holding anything back. His energy seemed to burst from him with every strike.
Their swords collided with a sound that cut through the whole battlefield. Jungkook moved forward and Seokjin met him head-on. The force, power, and impact of the two swords colliding split the ground beneath them open and the impact had them land several feet away from each other.
You pressed your hand against your mouth, you weren’t sure what the impact of this fight would be. You knew Jungkook was powerful, and you believed that his mastery would eventually win this fight. But, seeing how Seokjin moved throughout the battle wasn’t something you could ignore.
They charged towards each other again. Seokjin read Jungkook's patterns from the first exchange and adjusted his attacks on the second. A strike Jungkook made that should have landed cleanly was redirected, and the redirection created an opening that Seokjin moved into immediately, catching Jungkook across the chest hard enough that you felt the impact as a vibration through the glass floor of the white space.
You let out a loud gasp, still The Ancient One said nothing but you felt it still being around you.
Jungkook was about to fall from the attack, but his wings spread open and one second he was dropping backwards, the next he caught himself in the air and twisted sharply to the side. Jungkook was now behind Seokjin before Seokjin was finished reading where Jungkook disappeared to. Jungkook’s sword struck Seokjin across the shoulder, hard enough to send him stumbling three steps away.
Both of them stopped for a moment to catch their breath.
You took a quick glance at the hundreds of soldiers on both sides standing in perfect silence and watching the two princes fight for the North Kratos throne.
But for Jungkook, he wasn’t fighting for the throne at all, still even now, he was fighting for you.
You did not have words for how long the fight went on. Time in Kratos did not run the same way time did on earth, and time in the white space you were in ran in an even more confusing way. What you knew was that neither of them was winning.
Seokjin spent centuries trying to prove himself. You could see it in the way he fought, every movement was sharp, every attack was meant to show exactly how strong he was, and he wanted Jungkook to see it. He wanted every single Demon watching to see it. What he learned makes him powerful and dangerous, but it also made him easier to read than Jungkook. Whenever Seokjin saw an opening, he went for it, because he wanted to be the one who took that first move.
Jungkook was different from his older brother. He spent centuries learning how to control himself or mastering the seven traits before anything else. Jungkook did not need Seokjin or anyone else’s approval. Jungkook didn’t need the soldiers watching from either side to understand what he was capable of, he only needed this to end. And because that was all he wanted, there was nothing extra in the way he fought.
The fight reached its turning point thirty minutes in, or what felt like thirty minutes in a space where time was just an approximation.
Seokjin landed a strike that opened a cut along Jungkook's jaw that immediately started to bleed. Something changed in Seokjin’s expression then. He looked relieved, like he has been waiting for proof that he could still hurt Jungkook, that he could still make Jungkook bleed.
Jungkook noticed the small drop in Seokjin’s guard immediately. He always noticed things like that, and the second Seokjin’s focus slipped, Jungkook moved forward into the space Seokjin left open.
The North Kratos sword made for Demons and for bodies that could survive wounds that would kill humans, came up in one smooth motion. But Seokjin caught Jungkook’s arm with both hands before the blade could reach him.
For a second, neither of them moved. The Jeon brothers were locked together, Jungkook forcing the sword forward while Seokjin held him back with everything he had.
Then, out of nowhere, Seokjin’s grip gave out.
You could not tell whether he meant to or whether his body simply had finally given up on him, and you were not sure it mattered. Because Jungkook didn’t stop; the sword drove forward and went through Seokjin’s throat in one clean motion, the blade cutting past his throat. It was quick. So quick that Seokjin only seemed to realise what happened when he looked down at Jungkook’s hand still wrapped around the handle of the sword.
Then Jungkook pulled the sword free.
Seokjin’s legs gave out as he dropped to one knee and his body started to tip sideways, but Jungkook caught him before Seokjin could hit the ground.
When Seokjin finally went still in his arms, Jungkook dropped him to the ground. He was now sure that his older broder is dead.
Jungkook stood up proudly, he was now the only prince of North Kratos.
He stood there for a moment with his back to both armies and his face toward the border's empty middle ground, and you watched his wings fold close behind him.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
The battlefield stayed silent long after it should have.
Jungkook was still standing where Seokjin’s lifeless body had fallen. His back was still to both armies, his wings still folded close, and his sword was still in his hand. There was still blood dripping from Jungkook’s sword, and the sight of it made your chest tighten.
You pressed your palms harder against the clear floor beneath you as if you could somehow reach through it. As if Jungkook might feel you from down there, but of course he didn’t.
The North soldiers behind their line have not moved either. They were waiting for Jungkook’s order, watching the back of their prince with the stillness of soldiers who understood that this was not their moment. This moment belonged to Jungkook alone, and no one on the North side of the border was going to take that from him.
The Lee army was different.
You could see the shift moving through their formation from above, a subtle restructuring, a recalculation happening across hundreds of bodies. They had come to this border expecting a specific war. They had an alliance, a plan, and a promised reward for the largest standing army in Kratos behind them. They watched Seokjin's followers fall in the ridge path. They watched two Jeon princes fight to the death on the contested ground between territories. They were also hesitating, which was a thing you did not expect from an army the size of theirs. They had the numbers, weapons, and they came prepared for war. But they also just watched Jungkook kill Seokjin. They saw and felt the power of the North Kratos second, or the now one and only, prince. And whatever they believed about Jungkook before, seemed to have disappeared.
But the Lee prince, whose name you did not know but you could figure out he was a prince from your Demon senses sensing his energy, still moved forward.
He stepped across the territorial line onto the contested ground by himself, his hands were visible on his sides and his posture seemed to communicate that he was approaching Jungkook for conversation rather than combat. He was not as afraid as the rest of the Demons there, you noticed. Or if he was, he did not show it the way the other Demons there showed it.
The Lee prince looked calm as he stepped forward and closer to Jungkook. He was still confident as he was taught that having a bigger army meant he could never lose and until now, he probably never had a reason to question it.
He looked at Jungkook's back for a good few seconds, waiting for Jungkook to turn around.
And when he did finally show his face, Jungkook’s expression was nothing you’ve seen before and something in your heart went cold.
Jungkook's face was completely emotionless, there was no expression, there was nothing on his face at all. There was no rage, grief, or even boredom.
Jungkook looked as if the storm in his life has already passed through him and took everything with it. Like there was nothing left for any Demon to threaten, nothing left for Jungkook to hold himself back.
"Prince Jeon," The Lee prince greeted. He inclined his head in a certain way that acknowledged Jungkook’s rank without conceding anything, “we offer our acknowledgment of the resolution of your family matter."
Jungkook said nothing to it.
The Lee prince continued, "What has happened here does not require escalation. Your forces and ours are both present and prepared. The question before us is not whether we could continue but whether continuing serves either citadel," he paused, “your brother made certain promises in exchange for our support. Those promises ended with your brother, we understand that. But we are an army ready for war, and we do not want to march home with nothing to show for the Demons back home."
The Lee prince lifted his hands slightly, like he was trying to show Jungkook the only options Jungkook had. He was acting as if what he was about to offer could still be talked through with the now emotionless North Kratos prince.
"Give us the unclaimed border territory Seokjin offered," The Lee prince said, “it is a modest concession. The North retains everything of substance and The Lee retains their dignity and both our soldiers live to see tomorrow. Both citadels return home intact, would that not be a good outcome for everyone involved?"
The Lee prince eventually stopped talking and waited for an answer, but Jungkook said nothing.
From the glass floor of the white space, you watched Jungkook's face, trying to figure out what he was about to do next.
Jungkook laughed, which was not something you expected at all. You expected him to say “fuck no” or continue with the war by attacking The Lee prince. But you did not expect Jungkook to laugh.
It was also the most frightening laugh you have heard him make, and you have heard Jungkook make many different sounds in many moods across many months of living in his proximity. You just could not feel any warmth behind his laugh.
It was a terrifyingly empty and emotionless laugh.
Without any notice, Jungkook moved forward to attack The Lee prince.
The Lee army did not hesitate to move and attack after that. Jungkook attacked their prince and that was enough for them to act. Whatever fear they felt disappeared in order to fight, and the North soldiers responded to their movement by charging before The Lee soldiers could cross too far into the North Kratos ground. Then all you heard were the sounds of steel, wings, shouting, and bodies rushing into each other from both sides.
The land between the North and the South disappeared under the fight so quickly you could barely tell where one side ended and the other began.
It was now war.
Hundreds of demons from both sides, and the sound of it reached you even through whatever barrier existed between the white space and Kratos.
You cried. But it wasn’t because of the war, you couldn’t really care less about the Demons who weren’t even going to accept you in Kratos.
You cried because of Jungkook. You cried even harder as you watched him move through The Lee forces.
You cried not because you were scared for his life, but you cried because the Jungkook you are looking at looked so different from the Jungkook you knew.
It was as if you were watching a different Jungkook. And to you, it almost felt like Jungkook’s emotions swallowed him whole.
That was what confuses and pains you the most: watching Jungkook becoming something that looked nothing like the version of him you knew, and you partly blamed yourself for it.
If it wasn’t for your stupidity in trusting Eris, if it wasn’t for your dumb brain seeing Jungkook as someone trying to control you instead of protecting you, if it wasn’t for you.. Jungkook would still be himself.
But right now, Jungkook looked nothing like the Demon who sat next to you on your sofa, nothing like the Demon who laid beside you under the blankets, nothing like the Demon who dropped to his knees and begged for your forgiveness. You remembered all those versions of him with you, but the Jungkook standing on that battlefield did not feel like any of these versions. And you were to blame.
You knew it was not fair to blame yourself for what he chose to do. You knew that much, but it was hard not to wonder if you had changed something in him anyway.
You kept thinking about the moment Jungkook held your lifeless body in his arms, the way his hands were shaking, and how he was looking at you like losing you has destroyed something inside him that Jungkook would never be able to put back together.
You could not stop wondering whether you changed Jungkook somehow, whether loving you has given him something else to lose, and whether that made him more dangerous than he has ever been before.
Could you, if it really was possible to revive you back to life, could you really go back to his life after this?
Could you sit beside him in the studio again and pretend you have not seen him standing in the middle of a battlefield with blood on his sword?
Could Jungkook still look at you the way he had before, like you were something soft in a world that has never been either of those things?
Or have you become part of the reason Jungkook turned into some Demon you barely recognised?
The thought made your chest hurt, but you did recognise Jungkook. Somewhere beneath all of this, beneath the violence and the lack of expression in his face, he was still the Jungkook who held you when you were sick, the Jungkook who knelt in front of you and begged for forgiveness. Jungkook was still the Demon who cried for you.
You just did not know whether there was enough of that version of him left for you to find when this was over.
"Is he going to be alright?" you said, it was not a question to The Ancient One, but it was more to yourself.
You wiped your face with the back of your hand and kept watching, because you did not know how to stop watching the Demon you love losing himself.
The Lee army was large, you’ve heard it repeatedly in every description of Kratos politics Jungkook has given you. The largest standing army in Kratos, the one thing that made The Lee citadel dangerous and overwhelming.
but you were relieved to see The North soldiers fighting as though the numbers of their opponent did not matter. because they knew the mastery of their traits has helped them to become even more powerful than their enemy. And numbers in this case, truly did not matter at all.
And at the front of all of it was Jungkook.
You watched him for a long time, until the tears stopped coming because your body seemed to run out of them, or maybe you were just tired of crying since what felt like forever. and you were just exhausted.
You did not know what would happen if you were revived back to life.
You no longer know if being with Jungkook would be good for him anymore.
Maybe loving him would not make his life better.
And maybe, for Jungkook, loving you would only give him another thing to lose.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Jophiel had no time to think about how he was carrying you when he opened the passage to Heaven from the cave.
He opened up the portal with one hand, which left the other free hand to hold you against his chest. Soon after, there was a light that opened in the cave wall that was less elegant than his usual portals, more torn than opened, but Jophiel couldn’t care less about what the portal looked like, he needed to save you.
He needed to save his dearest human.
Jophiel arrived in one of the outer halls of Heaven, the wide pale corridor that connected the lower reception chambers to the inner palace of Heaven, and the moment he stepped out of the portal, two angels turned and walked towards him from the far end of the hall.
They gasped when they saw what, who, Jophiel was carrying.
Jophiel walked towards them without slowing down, "I need help," he said in a hurry because there was no time for anything else and because, you, who were in his arms, had no pulse.
The two angels in the far end of the hall were Gabriel and Raphael, and once they noticed something was genuinely wrong, they ran towards Jophiel. Gabriel reached out to Jophiel first before taking a good look at your body in Jophiel’s arms. And when he looked at you, Gabriel knew then that the damage had been done.
Raphael came to the other side and pressed two of his fingers to your wrist, then your neck, then he held his palm flat over your chest. Angels could tell if a soul had left a body, yet Raphael just had to check again and again, because a part of him wished what he felt was not real and was just some sort of error in his Angel senses.
Raphael looked up at Jophiel, "There is no pulse," Raphael said carefully.
"I know there is no pulse," Jophiel said, and his voice came out harsher than he intended it to be, “that is why I am here, tell me what can be done."
Raphael and Gabriel exchanged a quick look, while Jophiel turned to look at his friends just as Gabriel looked down at you again. Gabriel’s lips parted slightly to say something only to close it again. Whatever Gabriel was about to say, he was trying to find a way to make it less painful to Jophiel to hear.
"Jophiel," Gabriel finally said after a good one minute pass by, but Gabriel’s voice was so careful it made the hair on the back of Jophiel's neck rise, "the knife they used to kill ____, we can see its work in her. This is not a wound that falls within the scope of what we are authorised to intervene in, this is not a ghost in need of guidance or a human soul that has crossed without cause. This is a Demon's body that has been struck by something designed specifically to kill Demons."
"Then tell me what I should do," Jophiel demanded.
"Jophiel," Raphael said softly, trying to calm his friend down.
"Tell me," Jophiel said again, still demanding an answer from his brothers.
Gabriel looked at Jophiel again, feeling sorry for his dearest brother, "Only The Ancient One could help her. This is beyond what Heaven, or any Angels can offer. I am sorry, my friend."
The corridor went very silent.
Jophiel stood there in Heaven’s outer hall with you in his arms. Jophiel heard what Gabriel and Raphael said to him, and he understood what they meant right away. But Jophiel wished he did not. For once, the Angel of Enlightenment wished he did not understand the information that was given to him.
Jophiel knew the moment your soul left your body, somewhere in the back of his mind also knew that this was the answer he was going to receive from his brothers.
Jophiel knew what was going to happen in the cave when he took your body from Jungkook's arms. He knew it when he tore through the passage between realms with one hand. Johpiel knew it the way he knows things that he did not want to know, because he is the Angel of Enlightenment. And for the first time ever in his life, he wished he was not.
His brothers watched him carefully, not because they were scared of Jophiel. They just did not know what he was going to do next. Jophiel has been holding you against his chest so tightly ever since he left the cave in North Kratos. He just could not accept that The Ancient One would do this to his dearest Demon friends.
Since he walked into the North tower and found you with Jungkook, he understood what the two of you were to each other. What you meant to Jungkook and what Jungkook meant to you. The two of you have barely been given a moment of peace since the beginning; there was always something waiting for you or Jungkook. Was this what a love like yours, a love so deep, had to conquer? It just did not seem fair to Jophiel.
Then something inside him finally gave way.
Jophiel has not cried in a very long time. and crying is not a common behaviour of Angels, tears were not usually a way for Angels to express what they feel. But Jophiel was also not, and has never been, a standard example of what angels were. He has spent too much time in other realms, including Kratos, and he has too many arrangements with beings his kind was not supposed to care about.
The tears were unexpected even to him.
Gabriel and Raphael did not dare to utter a single word. They stood at either side of Jophiel in the pale corridor and let the silence be, because there was nothing to say that would make it easier for Jophiel. So Jophiel held you and cried.
Jophiel thought about the first time he came to the North tower, where he found you in Jungkook’s old bedroom. You looked exhausted, yet so guarded too, like you were waiting for someone to talk to you yet you were determined to not let them see how close you were to breaking down. He thought about the books and the baskin robbins he brought from earth. Jophiel thought about all the afternoons he spent with you, the conversations the two of you had and the questions you asked him.
He then thought about Jungkook, his oldest friend or 'frenemy'. Jungkook was there for Jophiel through more things than Jophiel could count. Although Jungkook would never mention it, he understood Jophiel without needing him to explain his train of thoughts.
And then you came into Jungkook’s life and Jophiel saw things he never thought Jungkook could ever experience. Jungkook who stood outside your door for weeks, refusing to leave you even when he thought there was nothing he could do except wait. Jungkook, the Demon prince, who begged for the Human-turned-Demon’s forgiveness. Jungkook who possibly became the first Demon to ever cry, the first Demon to become so aware of his feelings that he cried.
Jophiel thought about how lucky his friend was to have you, because somehow, loving you had brought Jungkook to a place no Demon was supposed to reach.
And because of you, Jungkook is now more powerful than any Demon had ever been.
Jophiel thought about the two of you, his dearest and most complicated friends, one of whom was fighting a war at a Kratos border and one of whom was in his arms without a pulse, and The Ancient One was the only answer anyone was going to give him.
Jophiel wiped his face and forced himself to breathe and let himself feel what he was feeling. You were still in his arms and there would be plenty of time for Jophiel to fall apart later.
But right now, Jophiel had to do something. Then Jophiel turned to look at your body in his arms as he called out, "The Ancient One.”
He said it quietly, without any of the old prayers that he was taught to recite when calling for The Ancient One. Jophiel was just hoping that somehow, somewhere, The Ancient One would hear how badly he was begging.
Two months later, determined to uncover the truth, You searches for the key to Eleanor's locked room.You lock Jungkook in his room, seduce him in a satin robe, and drug his drink to put him to sleep. You steal his keys and break into Eleanor's room. You find her diary, but someone knocks you out cold. Your last sight? A hand with crimson red nail paint. You wake up with a bandage, Then you find out both Margaret and Cecilia wear that exact red polish. You meet Daphne and ask for a fake positive pregnancy report. Since Eleanor was killed while pregnant, you use the fake baby as ultimate bait to smoke out the killer.
Genre:-Dark Romance , Mystery , Gothic Fiction, Arranged Marriage , Slow Burn , Drama, Smut , Strangers to lovers.
Warning :- Heartbreak, slapping , crying, yelling, seduce, mention of sex position, oral sex , angst, kiss, dry humping , lap dance , alcohol, attack, blood , fainting, fear, lying , guilt,fake pregnancy.
Previous. Next
❦♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡❦
Two months later the estate had fallen asleep hours ago. Moonlight spilled across the corridors as you wandered through the house, unable to sleep. You weren't entirely sure what had drawn you there perhaps curiosity.
You stopped before Eleanor's long locked room after a moment, you spun on your heel and headed downstairs. Mrs Whitmore was still awake, as elderly ladies with mysterious schedules often were. She looked up.
"My goodness, child, do you ever sleep?"
"Rarely."
Mrs Whitmore laughed "What do you need?" You lowered your voice "Where are the spare keys kept?" The old woman raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"No reason." You smiled innocently. Mrs Whitmore looked entirely unconvinced then she sighed.
"Mr Jeon's room."
Your eyes widened "Thank you!" Before she could ask any more questions, you hurried away. A few minutes later, you reached Jungkook's room. The door wasn't fully closed you about to knock but you heard a faint laugh of Margaret the laugh that only escape when you're loved by someone . Your mind froze for a second but the reality hit harder than always that you're sharing him .
As you hurried down the hallway, a movement near one of the balconies caught your attention. Someone was standing there. Cecilia, at first, you almost walked away the memory of her warnings still lingered in your mind. But something felt different she wasn't angry, she was crying.
You hesitated then slowly approached "Cecilia?" She didn't turn around the night wind stirred her hair for several seconds, neither of you spoke. Then she laughed bitterly.
"I hate this." Her fingers tightened around the balcony railing"Sharing him , I don't want anyone near him."
Your heart sank "Cecilia..."
"I don't." The words trembled for the first time, she sounded less like a jealous wife and more like someone who was hurting. You looked away then quietly asked, "If you feel that way..."
Cecilia finally turned towards you.
"...why did you marry him?" The question landed badly, the vulnerability vanished. Her expression hardened her eyes flashed. "Careful."
You swallowed, the warning was clear but after months of secrets and rumours, your patience had worn thin, questions were constantly circling your head. Cecilia stepped closer. You took a step back your pulse quickened.
"I just—"
"What?" The tension rose sharply and before you could stop yourself—The question escaped.
"Did you kill Eleanor?"
Cecilia stared at you for one horrible second, the entire world seemed to stop. Then her hand moved. A sharp slap cracked through the corridor your head turned with the force of it shock flooded through you. You looked back at her, stunned. Cecilia looked equally shocked by what she'd done her breathing was uneven her eyes shining with anger and something else.
"Don't." Her voice broke "Don't ever ask me that again." The corridor fell silent and for the first time since you'd met Cecilia, she looked less frightening than heartbroken.
You reached your room and shut the door behind you the lock clicked and suddenly the silence became unbearable everything seemed to hit at once. The way Jungkook and Margaret together the jealousy that had appeared from nowhere. Cecilia's anger, the sting still lingering on your cheek. You sank onto the edge of the bed.
"What is wrong with me?" You whispered it to yourself the jealousy made no sense. Margaret is his wife, Cecilia is his wife they had been there long before you. So why did it hurt? Your heart knew the answer, your mind refused to admit it.
Tears blurred your vision. You reached for the telephone on the bedside table. The number had long since become muscle memory. It rang twice. Then—"Hello?" Your mother's voice, the moment you heard it, the dam broke.
"Mumma..."
"Y/N?" The concern in her voice only made you cry harder.
"Why?"
"What happened?"
"Why did Dad do this to me?" Your voice trembled. "Mumma, I never wanted this. I wanted to finish university." Another sob escaped "I wanted to fall in love." The room felt smaller, the walls closer. "I wanted a normal life."
Your mother remained silent the way mothers do when they know there are no easy answers.
"You both knew that." Tears rolled freely down your cheeks. "And yet you married me off because it was good for business."
"Y/N."
"No." For the first time in years, you sounded like a little girl again. "I keep trying to be happy here." Your voice cracked "I really do." The confession hurt the most. "I don't even know where I belong anymore."
Finally, your mother spoke very softly. "Do you think we don't regret it? We thought we were doing the right thing."
You laughed bitterly "Well, you weren't."
"No." The admission came immediately "No, perhaps we weren't." That only made you cry harder for several moments neither of you spoke.
Then your mother asked quietly, "Has he hurt you?" You thought of Jungkook, the late-night study sessions, the cups of coffee, the way he had looked at you that evening, the kiss , the way he had thanked you when you said you trusted him.
"No." The answer came honestly "No, he hasn't."
Your mother exhaled slowly "Then perhaps the situation is more complicated than it appears." You closed your eyes maybe it was maybe that was the problem.
The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains for a few peaceful seconds, you remained half asleep. Then you noticed someone sitting beside the bed you nearly jumped. Jungkook looked up from the book in his hands. "Good morning."
You blinked "What are you doing here?" His expression was oddly unimpressed.
"I live here."
"Not on my bed." A corner of his mouth twitched then his gaze softened. "You were crying." Immediately, your mood darkened you looked away.
"No, I wasn't."
"Your father called me at three in the morning."
You froze you looked back at him Jungkook sighed. "He was worried." Embarrassment flooded your entire body. "Oh my God."
"He thought you'd packed your bags and left."
You buried your face in a pillow you sat up. Immediately deciding the best defence was offence "Why do you care anyway?" The question slipped out sharper than intended.
A shadow crossed his face you regretted it instantly but pride stopped you apologising. Instead, you pushed the blanket aside.
"I'm going to university."
Jungkook stared "Aren't you forgetting something?"
"No."
"It's Sunday."
Silence filled , you sat there then looked at him. "...Right." Jungkook laughed which was deeply irritating. You grabbed a cushion and threw it at him he caught it effortlessly.
"Violence won't improve your memory."
"It might improve my mood."
His smile faded slightly when he noticed your expression slowly, he reached out his hand rested gently against your cheek "Y/N" You immediately pushed it away the hurt that flashed across his face lasted only a second.
"Don't do that."
You looked away unable to explain your own emotions, unable to explain the jealousy or the fact you'd spent half the night crying over a life you weren't even sure you wanted anymore.
Then suddenly an idea appeared, aterrible idea which naturally meant you loved it, you turned back towards him your expression instantly brightened.
"I want to sleep in your room tonight."
Jungkook blinked. "Why?" You smiled sweetly. "I'm your wife." he simply studied you for a moment.
"Of course you can."
You brightened instantly success. Jungkook watched the sudden excitement with enormous suspicion. "You definitely want something."
"I don't."
"You're a terrible liar."
You placed a hand dramatically over your heart and while Jungkook continued looking unconvinced, you were already thinking about something entirely different. The set of keys that, if Mrs Whitmore was correct, might soon be within reach.
That night, the estate was unusually quiet Margaret had retired early Cecilia's wing of the house was dark even the servants had long disappeared. Only a few lamps remained lit in the corridors. Inside your bedroom, you stood before the mirror and immediately regretted every decision that had brought you here.
The green satin robe suddenly felt far more dramatic than it had in the shop your hair had been left loose a deep red lipstick coloured your lips. On the bedside table sat a bottle of alcohol, the internet had been very unhelpful.
You glanced at your phone again.The article remained open: How to seduce a man
You stared at your reflection "You look like you're about to commit a crime." The reflection offered no reassurance. With a sigh, you picked up the bottle and walk toward his room .
The heavy oak door clicked shut, and you turned the lock, the sharp snap of the deadbolt signaling that the outside world was officially locked out.Jungkook was sitting on the edge of the bed, his dark eyes instantly tracking you as you turned around. In your hand, you held a bottle of dark liquor, the glass cool against your palm.The air in the room instantly grew thick with tension.
You walked with a slow, hypnotic sway, never breaking eye contact until you reached the bedside without a word, you set the bottle aside on the nightstand, the glass making a soft clink that sounded incredibly loud in the quiet room. Jungkook’s gaze, his breath hitching slightly as he swallowed hard.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" he asked.
A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of your lips. You stepped closer, bridging the final inches between you. "I'm your wife," you murmured, your voice a soft, velvety purr. "Can't I?"
Before he could answer, you reached down, your hands gently but firmly parting his knees. You stepped into the space, climbing onto the mattress to sit directly between his legs, straddling his lap. You leaned in closer, Jungkook’s hands rested tentatively on your waist, his expression a mix of surprise and intense focus as he looked up at you.
You reached out, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw your hand slide flat against his chest, giving him a firm, playful push backward. He fell back onto the mattress, he watched you with wide dark eyes. You slid off his lap, your bare feet making no sound against the floor as you walked over to the speaker on the dresser with a tape , a low thumping bassline filled the room. Turning back to the bed, you loosened the silk tie of your robe, letting the fabric part just enough to catch the dim light. You began a slow, hypnotic sway to the rhythm, keeping your eyes locked onto his.
"Do you prefer a dance in this robe," you murmured, your voice dropping to a breathy whisper as you let the satin slip slightly off one shoulder, "or without it?"
Jungkook didn't move. He lay back against the pillows, his chest rising and falling in heavy, uneven breaths as he tried to process the intense shift in the room. The suddenness of your confidence and the intoxicating atmosphere seemed to overwhelm him.He shook his head slightly, but deeply smile tugging at his lips. "I don't understand what happened to you suddenly,"
You pouted, your lower lip turning out as you held his gaze "I’ve been your wife for eight months, Jungkook,and you haven’t even touched me once. Not proper, is it?"
Jungkook’s expression softened, a sudden warmth breaking through his confusion. He propped himself up on one elbow against the mattress, extending a hand toward you. "Sweetheart, come here," he murmured.
"No," you replied instantly, taking a step back into the rhythm of the slow, heavy bassline echoing from the corner. You let the silk tie of your robe slacken just a bit more. "I’m going to dance. So tell me... do I open it?"
Jungkook didn't say a word he simply leaned back against the pillows, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his handsome face. He didn't need to speak; you knew the answer perfectly well. He kept his eyes pinned on you, utterly oblivious to the fact display was the perfect, brilliant trap.
Jungkook couldn’t take the distance any longer. He lunged off the bed, his hand gripping your waist to yank you flush against his chest. Before you could even gasp, his lips smashed onto yours in a deep, desperate kiss that tasted of pure hunger.You leaned into it for a brief second, letting him taste victory, before you firmly pressed your palms against his chest and broke away.
"Mhmn, no," you breathed, shaking your head with a wicked little smile. "It’s so basic." He blinked, breathless and disheveled. "Basic?"
"Come, let’s drink first," you purred, stepping back toward the nightstand. "We will smell like alcohol it’s what I want tonight."
Without giving him a choice, you gave him a firm push backward. He fell right back onto the mattress, his head hitting the pillows with a soft grunt. Before he could sit back up, you climbed over him, sliding your thighs on either side of his hips until you were sitting squarely on his lap.While his hands rested at your waist to steady you, you reached for the glass on the nightstand. The air in the room felt heavy with the scent of the dark liquor as you poured a small amount, the liquid catching the dim light.
"To us," you murmured, keeping your gaze fixed on his. You held the glass for him, and he took a slow sip, the sharp warmth of the alcohol settling between you.
Jungkook sat back against the headboard, you unbutton his black silk shirt, he was watching you with an intensity that burned through the dim lighting. The mattress dipped under your weight as you straddled his lap.
"You're quiet tonight," you murmured, his chest rise and fall in a sharp exhale."I'm waiting to see what you're doing," Jungkook replied.
You didn't answer right away. Instead, you brought the glass to your own lips, taking a tiny sip, keeping your eyes locked onto his the entire time. You let a single drop catch on your bottom lip before leaning forward, your face inches from his. His gaze dropped instantly to your mouth, his grip on your hips tightening until his knuckles turned white.
"Drink," you whispered, pressing the rim of the glass gently against his lower lip.Jungkook hesitated for a fraction of a second, his dark eyes searching yours, before he parted his lips. You tilted the glass. He took a slow sip, deliberate swallow, a single drop escaped, tracking a wet line down his chin and toward his throat.
Before he could pull away, you tilted the glass just a bit more, your other hand coming up to cup the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in the soft, dark hair at his nape. "More honey" you urged softly, your thumb tracing the hard line of his jawline.
He swallowed again, his Adam’s apple bobbing against your palm. He finished the glass, his breath coming faster now, his chest pressing against yours with every rise and fall. When you finally set the glass aside on the nightstand, the space between you remained charged with a quiet, lingering tension. You stayed close, Jungkook looked at you, the intensity in his gaze softening into something more reflective. His hands remained steady on your waist, though his grip relaxed slightly.
"You always seem to know exactly how to get my attention," he murmured. Jungkook's eyes were fixed on your face.
Your fingers had already slipped the small, fast-dissolving tablet from your palm and into the remaining amber liquid. It vanished instantly, leaving the drink clear, potent, and dangerous.
You picked the glass back up, your expression shifting into a gaze of pure, undivided focus."You didn't finish," you whispered, leaning so close your breath brushed the sensitive skin just below his ear.
Jungkook let out a low, rough exhale, his hands sliding from your waist down to the small of your back, pulling you flush against his chest. "I’ve had enough," he murmured.
"Just a little more. For me." You traced the pad of your thumb along his bottom lip, forcing it to part slightly. You brought the rim of the glass back to his mouth.
Captivated by your gaze, he didn't question the subtle, bitter undertone of the liquor. He swallowed the rest of the drugged drink, his throat moving rhythmically against your palm.
You slid your hands down his chest, slowly unbuttoning the remaining silk of his shirt, exposing the warm skin beneath. "Good boy," you purred, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to the hollow of his throat.
Jungkook’s breath hitched. He tried to lift his arms to wrap them around you, but his movements were noticeably heavier. He blinked slowly, shaking his head slightly. "You... wha..."
"Shh," you interrupted softly, capturing his attention by capturing his lips. It was a slow, deep, intoxicating kiss designed to steal whatever focus he had left. Your fingers tangled in his hair, gently pulling his head back to keep him anchored to you.When you broke the kiss, his eyes were glassy, struggling to stay open, yet they were still desperately pinned on you. He leaned his forehead against your shoulder.
You wrapped your arms securely around his broad shoulders and gently guided his head down. You pressed his cheek flat against your bare skin, right above your cleavage, cradling him tightly against your chest. The warmth of your skin and the steady, rhythmic beat of your heart.Jungkook let out one final, shuddering exhale against your skin. His hands, which had been weakly gripping your waist, lost their tension and slipped onto the mattress. His body went completely pliant, his heavy weight resting entirely against you as the medicine pulled him under into a deep sleep.
The silence that followed suffocated. The seductive mask you had been wearing completely shattered, leaving your face raw with emotion. Your breath hitched, and a lump formed tightly in your throat as you looked down at his peaceful, handsome face.
He had trusted you completely. He had looked at you with nothing but love and desire, and you had used that devotion to trap him.Your hands trembled as you reached out, no longer acting, but genuinely desperate for his warmth. You cupped his face in both of your hands, the rough stubble of his jaw familiar and grounding against your palms.
"I'm sorry," you choked out, your voice breaking into a ragged whisper.You leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead. Then to his closed eyelids. You kissed his cheeks, his nose, and finally, his soft lips, your tears threatening to spill as you showered his face with kisses.
"I'm really sorry, honey," you murmured against him "I'm so sorry I trapped you. Please forgive me."For a long moment, you just stayed there, holding his heavy, sleeping body .
Suddenly you wiped your eyes quickly this was not the time to cry, taking a steadying breath, you straightened your robe and slipped out of the bed.
The grandfather clock downstairs struck midnight you started searching the key ,you searched drawer after drawer. Just when frustration began to set in, your fingers brushed against cold metal. A keyring, a very large keyring.
Your heart jumped there must have been twenty keys attached to it, perhaps more you glanced towards the bed. Then snatched it up and hurried out before your courage abandoned you entirely.
The walk to Eleanor's room felt endless the corridor stretched on forever beneath the dim wall lamps finally, you arrived. The door stood exactly as it always had. Your hands trembled.
"This is ridiculous," you whispered yet you couldn't stop shaking, you inserted the first key then the second, the third, the fourth refused to fit, the fifth almost worked.
Minutes passed, your anxiety grew. Then a larger key caught your attention older than the others. You slid it into the lock. Your breath caught the sound seemed impossibly loud.
The door was unlocked a chill travelled down your spine slowly, you pushed the door to Eleanor’s room creaked open.Inside, the room looked terrifying. Shadows stretched long across the walls, and a thick layer of dust coated the covered furniture like a burial shroud. It looked like a horror movie set.
You trembled violently, the cold air chilled your skin through the thin satin robe, but you forced your feet to move forward.You rushed to the heavy vanity table in the corner and yanked open the top drawer. Your breath caught. Right there, resting on top of old yellowed papers, was Eleanor’s personal diary.
It felt like a miracle. It felt as if God or perhaps the spirit of Eleanor herself was helping you finish this. A sudden burst of pure happiness rushed through you as your fingers locked around the leather binding.But the triumph lasted only a fraction of a second.
Crack.
Before you could even open the book, a heavy piece of metal smashed violently into the back of your head the world instantly shattered. A blinding spike of agony exploded through your skull, making your head spin uncontrollably. Your vision blurred into streaks of black and gray, and your knees buckled beneath you. As you collapsed toward the floor, your body heavy and unresponsive, you desperately forced your eyes to blink open one last time.
Turning your head just an inch, you caught a fleeting glimpse of your attacker before the darkness took you. Standing over you was a figure holding a bloody metal rod. The only defining detail your fading consciousness could register was a hand gripping the weapon its fingers tipped with sharp, brilliant red nail paint.Then, the pain vanished, and everything went entirely black.
The next thing you became aware of was sunlight. Your head throbbed a dull ache pulsed behind your eyes as you slowly opened them. The ceiling above you looked familiar, its your bedroom, confusion settled in immediately. How had you gotten here? You tried to sit up.
"Darling."
Before you could react, Margaret was suddenly beside you the moment she saw your eyes open, she pulled you straight into her arms "Oh, thank God." You blinked in surprise Margaret was crying her hands trembled as she cupped your face.
"You scared me." A kiss landed on your forehead. "Margaret..." Her eyes were red from lack of sleep.
"You frightened me half to death." Slowly, you reached up and touched your forehead there's a bandage. Your stomach dropped fragments of last night flashed through your mind.
"What happened?"
Margaret immediately helped you sit up. "One of the staff found you. You were unconscious in Eleanor's room, there was blood running down the back of your head. I thought...I thought something terrible had happened."
You stared at her. The concern in her eyes was genuine.Margaret took a deep breath.
"I cleaned the wound and put the bandage on and I locked Eleanor's room again. What if Jungkook found out? He would've been furious."
The room fell silent. Margaret studied your face then frowned. "How did you even get inside?"
You opened your mouth ready to tell Margaret everything then your eyes dropped and your words died instantly. Margaret's hand rested on the blanket her nails were painted red. Your stomach twisted. Thousands of women wore red nail polish Margaret had probably worn it for years yet suddenly you couldn't stop staring.
Your heart began pounding. No Margaret would never—Would she? The thought hurt more than it should have because Margaret had become your safe place in this house the person who comforted you, protected you, loved you like family.
"Y/N?" You blinked Margaret was looking at you with concern "You've gone pale."
"I'm fine." The lie sounded terrible before Margaret could question it further, the bedroom door opened. Jungkook entered his expression was unreadable but the moment his eyes landed on the bandage, something dark flickered across his face.
His gaze shifted to Margaret. "I'd like to speak with y/n alone."
Margaret looked between the two of you then nodded "Of course."
She stood before leaving, she gently brushed your hair away from your face "Call if you need anything, darling." You forced a smile Margaret left.
Jungkook turn toward you "What on earth happened last night?" he asked, leaning in closer.
Panic seized your chest. Your breath caught in your throat as your mind raced back to the horror of Eleanor's room. Does he know? You thought. You knew exactly how furious Jungkook would get if he discovered you had broken into that forbidden space your body freezing under his gaze. Before you could stammer out a lie, Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck, looking genuinely bewildered.
"Last night... I remember you coming into the room. You looked beautiful in that robe, and you made me drink. After that, I completely blacked out. I don't remember a single thing."
A massive wave of relief washed over you. You finally let out the breath you had been holding. He didn't know about Eleanor's room. He thought he had just passed out from the alcohol.
Jungkook pointed to your head, his brow furrowing. "But what about this bandage? Did you fall?"
Seeing that you were completely in the clear, your survival instincts instantly melted back into your playful, teasing persona. A slow, wicked smirk spread across your lips.
"You really don't know what happened?" you teased, your voice dropping to a low, mocking purr as you tilted your head.
You let out a soft laugh, leaning back against the pillows as you locked eyes with him. "Naughty man," you whispered.
Jungkook leaned in closer, his dark eyes wide with a mix of genuine worry and growing curiosity. "Tell me, please," he pleaded softly, his voice dropping as his thumb brushed against your cheek. "But tell me first... how did you get hurt?"
You leaned in closer, you until your faces were just inches apart. You pouted your lips, creating the most convincing, innocent puppy face you could.
"You were so rough last night," you whispered, your voice a delicate, breathy murmur that made his eyes widen in utter shock. "You didn't even let me breathe."
Jungkook’s face flushed a deep crimson, his jaw literally dropping as he stared at you, completely speechless."After you were finally done," you continued, holding back a smirk as you watched his brain struggle to process the fake scenario, "I got up to get some water. But because I had absolutely no energy left... I fell and hit my head."
Jungkook swallowed hard, his gaze mix of embarrassment and absolute guilt. He rubbed the back of his neck, forcing him to believe he was. "I... I did that?" he stammered.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to..."
"You know, you tried a lot of positions last night,"
Jungkook’s ears turned bright red, his eyes widening . "What... what positions?" he choked out, you leaned back against the pillows, counting them off on your fingers with a completely straight face, letting your voice drop to a wicked whisper.
"Well, first you yanked me up against the mahogany desk, gripping my hips so tight it’s going to leave bruises. Then you carried me to the bed and pinned my wrists above my head for a very deep, breathless missionary. But you weren't satisfied with that. You made me get on my hands and knees, pulling me against you from behind, bending me exactly how you wanted. You were so dominant and relentless, Jungkook. You didn't care how much I begged you to slow down."
His jaw dropped so low it looked like it might unhinge. The vivid, dirty details clearly had his imagination running wild, and he looked completely horrified by his own supposed animalistic hunger, blinking in utter disbelief.
You shifted, you let out a soft groan and placed a hand flat over your stomach, looking down at it with a sudden, serious expression.
"What if I get pregnant from last night? You didn't exactly pull out, did you?" you murmured.
Jungkook’s entire face instantly froze. The color drained from his cheeks, and his body went stiff as stone. It was as if you had just spoken words you were never, ever supposed to. But just as quickly as the ice had set in, he forced himself to calm down.
He reached out to gently cup your shoulder. "Are you okay? Does anything hurt?"
You dropped the act for a moment, the throbbing pain at the back of your skull making you wince genuinely. "My head," you whispered, touching the thick bandage.
Later that day the estate felt almost too calm that kind of calm that didn’t soothe you. You moved slowly down the staircase, still thinking about the diary, Eleanor’s room, the blurred hand, the red nails and the biggest question of all ,who had been inside that room besides you? Your mind kept circling the same thought. If you could get the diary back… if you could just read it… everything might finally make sense but before you could even plan your next step—you saw Cecilia.
Sitting on the sofa in the drawing room like she owned the silence itself, she was completely unbothered. She was eating an apple, watching something faintly outside the window for a moment, you simply stared.
Then your eyes dropped to her nails it was painted red. Your stomach tightened instantly. Your heart began to race I knew it , tour steps quickened Cecilia didn’t even look up as you approached.
You snatched the apple straight from her hand. “Hey!” she snapped, finally turning to you. “What is wrong with you?”
You ignored her your eyes were fixed on her hands, the red polish. Your voice came out sharper than intended. “What do you want, huh?” Cecilia leaned back slightly, unimpressed.
“What are you talking about?”
“You hit me.”
That made her pause then she scoffed.
“Oh, for God’s sake you know you were already half mad,” she said coolly. “After getting hit, you’ve completely lost your senses.”
Your grip tightened around the apple “Don’t act innocent.” Cecilia’s expression darkened she stood slowly now, matching your energy without flinching “Why would I do that?” The question hung between you both.
“If I wanted to hurt you,” she said coldly, “you wouldn’t be standing here arguing .”
Cecilia let out a short, humourless laugh. “You were with husband last night,” she said coldly, folding her arms tighter. “I warned you already. Stay away from him.”
You straightened instantly “He’s my husband.” The words came out sharper you took a step forward. “I don’t know what game you’re playing,” you said quietly, voice shaking with anger now, “but I’m not blind anymore.”
Cecilia didn’t move. You swallowed, forcing yourself to hold her gaze. “I will remove your mask very soon.”
Cecilia smiled like someone who had heard something both amusing and dangerous she turned away, leaving you standing in the middle of the room with unanswered questions clawing at your thoughts, one thing settled heavily in your mind.
You pulled away from the chaos downstairs, your heart hammering. You collapsed onto the edge of the mattress. Tears blurred your vision, streaming down your face.
You grabbed your tel, your hands shaking so violently you dialed Daphne's number, pressing the receiver tightly to your ear. The moment she answered, you broke down completely.
"Daphne... I don’t know what to do," you sobbed, your voice a ragged, breathless whisper. "I don’t know what to do anymore."
"Hey, hey, breathe! What's wrong? What happened?" Daphne's voice came through the line, instantly grounding you, you poured everything out. You told her about drugging Jungkook, stealing the grand wardrobe keys, and entering the horror of Eleanor’s long-locked room. You described finding the diary, the agonizing blow to the back of your head, and the terrifying final image of the hand with the brilliant red nail paint. Then, you told her about the morning how you woke up with the bandage, how you lied to a guilty Jungkook, and the sickening discovery downstairs.
"Both of them, Daphne," you whispered. "Margaret and Cecilia. They both have that exact same red nail paint. I know Cecilia hates me, but my gut tells me Margaret could never do this. She’s been so good to me. But the nail polish... it was in our shared bathroom."
"Listen to me," Daphne interrupted, her tone dropping. "You know Margaret is suspicious. I’ve told you before, I don’t like her. Don't let her sweet act blind you."
"No, stop, okay? Just listen to me," you snapped softly, wiping a fresh tear from your . Jungkook's frozen, terrified reaction from this morning played on a loop in your head.
"Your sister is a doctor, right?" you breathed, your voice hardening. "I need a favor. A massive one. I want a fake positive pregnancy report under my name."
Daphne gasped loudly down the line, the sharp intake of breath crackling through the telephone receiver. "Have you gone utterly mad? If Jungkook discovers you’ve played him for a fool like that, he’ll have you out on the street before nightfall!"
"He won't find out," you insisted, your eyes fixing on your reflection in the vanity mirror. The thick white dressing on your head was a grim reminder of how close you had come to an early grave.
"When I dropped the word pregnancy this morning, his face turned as white as a sheet. He looked bloody terrified, Daphne. If Eleanor was murdered the very week she fell pregnant, then carrying his child is the ultimate trigger in this house."
You stood up, pacing the length of the Persian rug. "If the killer believes I am carrying Jungkook’s heir, they will panic. They’ll be forced to finish the job they started last night. It is the only way to make them clumsy enough to trip over their own secrets."
Finally, Daphne let out a defeated sigh. "Right then. It’s bloody dangerous, but I’ll speak to Sarah. She can manipulate the laboratory records at the clinic and have a proper medical report drafted under your name".
CONTINUE IN NEXT PART
"Just get me the paperwork," you whispered, your heart hammering against your ribs. "I'll handle the rest."
Summary:- Before leaving for Europe, Jungkook leaves you with the master key to the estate. You got your fake pregnancy report and drop the massive news to both other wives . The danger peaks when a maid tries to poison your tea. But the true horror unlocks when you find Eleanor's stolen diary hidden inside Margaret’s wardrobe. Realizing your trusted mother-figure is actually a serial killer. Trapped alone with a psychopath while Jungkook is miles away, you pick up the phone and dial the police.
Genre:-Dark Romance , Mystery , Gothic Fiction, Arranged Marriage , Slow Burn , Drama, Smut , Strangers to lovers.
Pairing:- You ×Jungkook, Margaret ×Jungkook,Cecilia ×Jungkook
Previous
❦♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡❦
The days following Jungkook’s sudden departure for Europe dragged through the grand estate.
The heavy velvet curtains were drawn tight against the afternoon lights , but the atmosphere inside the grand living room was colder than the weather outside. You sat on the edge of the plush armchair . Across from you, Cecilia sat swirling a cup of tea. Margaret stood gracefully near the fireplace. The heavydoors open, and Jungkook stepped into the room. He didn't sit down. Instead, he stood before his three wives, his imposing frame commanding the space.
Margaret offered a soft, welcoming smile. "Love , you called all of us down here together. Is everything alright?"
Jungkook looked at each of you in turn, his dark eyes lingering on you for a fraction of a second longer than the others. "I am going out of the country," he announced. "Business in Europe requires my immediate attention. I am leaving tonight , and I will be gone for two weeks. While I am away, I want you all to stay good. No fights, no arguments. Am I understood?"
"Of course, darling," Margaret murmured smoothly, "You needn't worry about a thing."
Cecilia merely gave a sharp, tight nod, though her eyes flicked toward you with a venomous glint the moment Jungkook looked away.
Margaret moved gracefully around the bed, folding Jungkook’s pressed white shirts and placing them neatly into his leather suitcase. Her movements were calm, practiced, and entirely domestic. The door opened, and Jungkook walked into the room, adjusting his gold pocket watch. He glanced toward the dresser.
"Dear, check the files twice before, " he instructed, Margaret stood up from the bed, smoothing down her elegant dress. She glided into his space, her hands resting flat against his chest. She tilted her chin up, her voice drop
"Can I kiss you before you leave, m'love?"Before their lips could meet, the bedroom door was violently swung back.
Cecilia stood at the threshold, holding a tightly folded piece of paper in her hand. "Oh, for God's sake, bloody brilliant," she hissed, cursing under her breath as she took in the private scene. She didn't wait a single second. She marched right past Margaret, inserting herself directly between them.
She placed the folded note firmly into Jungkook’s front shirt pocket. "Bring all of these back with you from Paris, You know what I expect." she demanded.
Jungkook let out a heavy, tired sigh, his chest rising and falling. "I am going on a business trip, Cecilia. I will be busy."
"So what?" She stepped closer, attempting to dominate his attention and ignore Margaret’s presence entirely. "You can make time for these errands."
Margaret crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "I am literally standing right here, Cecilia," Margaret snapped.
Cecilia snapped her head around, throwing a defiant glare over her shoulder. "Oh, do be quiet, Margaret! Let the man focus on someone who actually knows how to keep things interesting around here."
Margaret’s hands balled into tight fists at her sides "How dare you speak to me with such disrespect, Cecilia?"
Cecilia let out a sharp, mocking laugh, taking a step closer until they were nearly nose-to-nose. "Oh, do grow up, Margaret. Don't pretend you hold all the cards here!" The insult cut deep, before she could launch herself at Cecilia, a thundering roar shattered the air.
"SILENCE!"Jungkook’s voice boomed. His face was a mask of cold, his dark eyes burned into both of his senior wives."I am standing right here, and you bicker like common street harlots," Jungkook hissed, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous growl. "I am leaving this country in some hours to secure our family's fortune, and I will not have my house turned into a circus before I even reach the docks."
Cecilia’s aggressive posture melted instantly, her lower lip trembling as her dark eyes grew glossy with sudden tears. "You always scold me," she choked out, "No matter what happens, I am always the one you yell at."
Margaret crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "Oh, give it a rest, Cecilia," Margaret snapped, "She doesn't care about you yelling, Jungkook. She just wants attention."
Jungkook let out a long, heavy breath, his eyes slowly softening as he ran a hand over his face. He looked at Cecilia, whose eyes were still swimming with tears, and then at Margaret, whose rigid posture betrayed her lingering anger.
"Enough, both of you," Jungkook said, his voice drop. He stepped closer, closing the distance between them. He placed a firm, reassuring hand on Margaret’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Margaret, you run this household brilliantly. I need you to keep the peace while I am away across the channel. No more bickering."
He then turned to Cecilia, his expression softening as he reached out and gently wiped a stray tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "And Cecilia, I am not picking on you. I am simply stressed with this European venture. I will look at your list on my way, alright? But you must promise to stop provoking Margaret."
He looked between his two senior wives, his presence anchoring the room. "I will be gone for two full weeks. It is a long time, and I cannot have my mind occupied by worries of what is happening under my own roof. I need you both to cooperate"
Margaret swallowed her pride, nodding "Of course, darling. For your sake, the house will remain quiet." Cecilia sniffled, a small, triumphant smile tugging at the corner of her lips now that she had received his personal affection. "Fine"
You stood by the tall glass window of your bedroom, watching the rain. Your mind was racing, entirely consumed by the dangerous reality that Eleanor's diary had been stolen right back from you. You needed to get those keys back from the grand wardrobe, but with Jungkook leaving, the house was about to become an absolute trap.
"You didn't come to say goodbye." The deep, familiar voice broke the silence. You turned around to see Jungkook stepping into the room. You forced a soft, quiet expression onto your face.
"I came, Jungkook," you murmured, looking down at your hands. "But you were so busy with them. I didn't want to interrupt." Jungkook’s expression softened. He stepped closer, closing the distance between you until he stood right in front of you. He reached out, his large, warm hand resting gently on top of your head, his thumb smoothing over your hair.
"Study well while I am away," he said softly. "Your exams are coming near, and I want you focused." You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face against the heavy wool of his coat.
"I'll miss you, old man," you whispered, holding onto him tightly. Jungkook let out a low, amused huff, his hands settling over your shoulders. "It is only two weeks, sweetheart."
You pulled back just enough to look up into his dark eyes, the golden opportunity finally presenting itself. You needed a way into that master wing. "While you are gone... who will keep the household keys?"
Jungkook’s brow furrowed, a sudden frown marring his features as the heavy question disrupted the soft mood. "They will obviously remain with Margaret. She manages the estate."
"Can I keep them, please?" you requested, keeping your voice small, putting on the most innocent, pleading face you could muster. "Just while you're across the channel?"
Jungkook shook his head. "No. Margaret always keeps them. She is far older and more mature than both you and Cecilia. Why on earth do you suddenly want such a heavy responsibility, Y/N?"
You pulled out your ultimate weapon once more, You pouted, sulking openly as you turned your gaze away from him toward the window."Fine," you mumbled "I just wanted to sleep in your bedroom to feel close to you while you were gone. It’s a massive house, and it gets dreadfully lonely. I can’t exactly keep asking Margaret for permission to sleep in my own husband’s room, can I? It's embarrassing."
Jungkook completely froze. He looked down at your pouting face, his dark eyes flickering with a mix of surprise, intense affection, and a sudden, heavy wave of guilt. Hearing that his youngest, wife simply wanted to comfort herself while he was across the channel completely caught him off guard.
He reached out, his large hands catching your waist to gently pull you back against his chest."You want to sleep in my room?" he murmured. "I did," you whispered, keeping your eyes down.
Jungkook reach out his pocket and pressed the heavy keys firmly into your palm, his fingers closing your hand over the cold metal. "Take it," he murmured, his voice low and serious. "But you keep it safe, I am only doing this because you want to stay in my room."
A sudden rush of pure happiness flooded your chest. You didn't even have to fake the bright, genuine smile that broke across your face. You threw your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "Thank you, Jungkook," you whispered against his shoulder, your heart racing
Jungkook let out a low huff of amusement, patted your back. "Come along then. The motorcar is waiting." The two of you walked down the grand, sweeping staircase together. Armed bodyguards in matching tweed coats stood ready near the entrance, holding Jungkook's heavy suitcases. Margaret and Cecilia were waiting by the front doors, standing side-by-side .Jungkook stepped to the center
"I am leaving now. Remember my words. Keep the peace while I am away."Margaret stepped forward "Of course,honey. Safe travels. Oh, and honey... you forgot to give me the household keys before you depart."
Jungkook didn't even reach into his pockets. He looked directly at Margaret. "I gave them to y/n ," he stated firmly. "She will be keeping them while I am across the channel." Margaret’s face dropped instantly. A deep, ugly frown marred her elegant features, her composure completely slipping for a split second but seeing Jungkook's eyes narrow at her reaction, she quickly forced her expression to soften.
She let out a gentle laugh "Oh... I see. But darling, she is so young, isn't she? She goes to the university and stays out nearly all day. How will she handle the heavy responsibilities of managing this entire estate?"
Cecilia let out a sharp, mocking scoff from her corner. "Oh, for heaven's sake, why are you fighting so desperately for a responsibility, Margaret? Let the child have her keychain if it keeps her amused. Heaven knows she needs a distraction from her work."
Margaret didn't rise to Cecilia's bitter bait. Instead, she kept her posture perfectly relaxed and elegant. She turned to Cecilia, her voice remaining remarkably soft "It is not only about responsibility, Cecilia, but you wouldn't understand. It is my duty. I am his first wife, and my only concern is making sure the estate runs smoothly so Jungkook doesn't have to worry while he is away. I only want what is best and easiest for Y/N"
You stepped forward on the staircase, clutching the keys tightly inside your pocket, your voice firm but polite. "I am not irresponsible, Margaret," you said, looking between her and Jungkook. "I will keep them safe, I promise."
Margaret looked up at you, her expression remaining entirely gentle and understanding. She gave a soft, maternal nod "Of course, sweetheart. If that is what you and Jungkook want, I won't say another word."
Jungkook looked at his watch one last time as the motorcar horn sounded again from the damp gravel driveway outside. "Okay," he announced "I am leaving."
The heavy front doors were open by the guards. Cecilia stepped forward first, a sharp, possessive smile on her lips "Safe travels." Margaret followed with her she stepped close, offering a smile as she gently patted his arms. "Do take care of yourself, darling. The house will be perfectly fine under our care," she said
You stayed exactly where you were on the stairs, locking eyes with him. You gave him a quiet, lingering nod, your hand still resting on the heavy master key in your pocket. Jungkook offered you one final, intensely protective look, a silent reminder to stay out of trouble before he turned on his heel. He strode out , stepping into the back of his waiting motorcar.The heavy doors slammed shut behind him.
The next morning, grey light wash over the university campus You hurried bypassing lecture hall. Your only focus was the quiet corner behind the library where Daphne was already waiting.The moment she saw you, Daphne reached , she handed you the reports with a serious, worried look. You grabbed the envelope, throwing your arms around her neck in a breathless hug, and planted a quick, grateful kiss on Daphne’s cheek.
"You're a lifesaver, Daph! You have no idea what this means to me." Daphne pulled back slightly, her hands resting on your shoulders as her expression darkened.
"Listen to me," she said. "I’ve been thinking about what you told me. I think Margaret is the one doing all this. Don't you see her behaviour? It’s always the quiet, sweet ones you have to watch out for. She’s completely blind-sided you."
A sudden anger rushed through you. Margaret was the only person who had made you feel truly safe and welcome in that massive, terrifying mansion since day one. She treated you with genuine kindness, and hearing Daphne attack her character felt like a proper betrayal.
You snapped. "Oh, do shut up, Daphne! You’re just completely jealous because someone else is close to me now! You’ve hated her from the moment I stepped into that house just because she looks after me. You’re making up these vile, disgusting lies because you can't stand that I don't need you for everything anymore!"
The words hung heavily Daphne froze, her jaw tightening as if she had just been struck. For a long, she just stared at you, her eyes rapidly filling with thick tears. The hurt on her face made your stomach twist Daphne swallowed hard, a single tear spilling over her lashes as she took a step back from you, clutching her coat tightly around herself.
"Fine," she choked out, her voice trembling violently with heartbreak. "If that’s what you truly think of me....fine. I won't interrupt your perfect life again."
The moment Daphne turned her back on you to walk away, the harsh anger in your chest turned into cold panic. The thought of loosing her was too much to bear. You loved Daphne so deeply; she was the one person who truly knew your soul, and you hadn't meant a single word , before she could walk away you lunged forward and threw your arms completely around her from behind. You held her locking your hands tight over her waist to stop her from slipping away.
"I’m sorry, Daph, I’m so sorry," you cried out, your voice breaking as you rubbed your face against her shoulder and the warm curve of her neck. You pressed your forehead against her coat, your tears instantly soaking into the heavy fabric. "Please, don't leave. I didn't mean it. I swear on my life I didn't mean a single word of it."
Daphne’s entire body went completely rigid in your arms. She didn't pull away, but she didn't hug you back either. "I'm just so scared, Daphne," you whispered, your grip tightening as you pleaded with her from behind. "My head is completely spinning with everything happening at the house, and I took it out on you. You're my best friend. I love you. Please don't do this."
Daphne let out a long, shaky exhale, her shoulders dropping just a fraction. She was still deeply hurt, but she slowly reached up and placed her hands over yours.
"It’s okay," Daphne murmured, wiping a stray tear from her own cheek with the back of her glove. "I just—"
"No, it's not fucking okay," you interrupted fiercely, grabbing her hands and looking up at her with pure eyes. "I was an absolute monster to you just now. Punish me, please. Do whatever you want, but don't stay mad at me."
Daphne froze, then a slow shift took over her face. A smirk curled the corners of her lips, her eyes with pure mischief. "Really?" she asked, her voice dropping into a teasing, playful register as she raised an eyebrow at you.
You blinked, realizing exactly what kind of chaotic ideas were suddenly racing through your best friend's mind. The realization of what you had just offered hit you instantly, and you let out a dramatic groan, tossing your head back."Oh, God," you muttered, a breathless laugh escaping your lips despite the lingering anxiety in your chest. "What have I just walked into?"
Daphne laughed softly, she gave your hands a firm, affectionate squeeze. "You brought this on yourself, love. But let's fix your mess at the mansion first. Then I'll think of a proper punishment for you."
The final lectures of the day ended but the moment the bell rang, you practically bolted out of the classroom with Daphne, as the two of you stepped out of the university building you adjusted your coat and looked at her. "Daph, let’s go somewhere," you suggested, "Anywhere but that house."
Daphne paused on the stone steps, "Don’t you want to go home, babe ?"
You let out a heavy sigh, rolling your eyes slightly. "I’ll be bored anyway." A knowing, teasing smirk instantly crawled on Daphne’s face. She nudged your shoulder with her elbow, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oooh, I see. Jungkook is not here, and the house is suddenly empty. I understand completely, love."
"No, it’s not about him at all!" you protested instantly, your cheeks burning, you looked away, crossing your arms defensively.
"Of course, of course," Daphne chirped back, her voice dripping with thick sarcasm as she linked her arm through yours, thoroughly enjoying your sudden embarrassment. "You don’t love him right? Not even a little bit."
"Daphne, I swear to God—" you stammered.
"No, tell me," she pressed, she looked right into your eyes. "Do you love him, Y/N ? Really?" You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag.
"I..." you stammered, looking down at your boots before looking back up at your best friend. "It’s complicated, Daph. You know what that house is like. You know the rumors about Eleanor."
"I'm not asking about the house or the rumors," Daphne countered gently, squeezing your arm. "I'm asking about him. The way he looks at you. The way you look at him. Do you love him?"A helpless, honest sigh escaped your lips.
"God, I think I do," you whispered. "He's infuriating, but... when he holds me... I’ve never felt so protected in my entire life. I don't want anything to happen to him, Daphne and it terrifies me."
Daphne stared at you for a long moment, the sarcasm completely gone from her face, replaced by a quiet, protective worry for her best friend. She knew that by carrying a fake pregnancy report to catch a killer, you weren't just fighting for the truth anymore you were fighting for the man you loved.
Daphne’s expression shifted. "Do you get jealous?" she asked softly. She held up her hands quickly, adding, "I mean, don't go scolding me again, please. But it’s obvious, isn't it? No girl wants her husband to have other women in his life."
You opened your mouth to give a quick, defensive reply, but the words caught tightly in your throat.Daphne stepped closer, her voice dropping to a gentle whisper. "And you said it yourself... Jungkook loved Eleanor a lot. More than anyone else, from what the old maid told you doesn't that hurt?"
The question cut straight through your defenses Your eyes instantly filled with thick, hot tears, You blinked rapidly, trying to force them back, but a single tear slipped down your cold cheek. The truth was suffocating. Every time you walked past the locked door of Eleanor's room, every time you saw the grand wardrobe, and every time you looked at Margaret and Cecilia, you were reminded of the vast, complicated history Jungkook shared with these women long before you ever arrived.You were his youngest wife, brought into a house already haunted by the memory of a woman he had deeply loved—a woman who had died carrying his child. You did get jealous. You got fiercely, painfully jealous of the past you could never change, and the ghost you were constantly fighting against for a place in his heart.
"It hurts like hell, Daph," you whispered, your voice cracking completely as you wiped the tear away with your sleeve. "It hurts every single day."
Daphne immediately pulled you into a tight, fierce hug, wrapping her arms securely around your trembling shoulders.
"Oh, God, Daphne," you choked out, the tears poured freely down your cheeks. "I love him a lot. I really do. I just... I just realized it. He’s absolutely everything to me." The realization hit you like a physical blow, vibrating through your entire chest. You weren't just a girl trapped in a Gothic mystery anymore, and you weren't just playing a game of cat-and-mouse. You were completely, undeniably in love with Jungkook. Every firm touch, every rare, soft smile he gave you, and the intense way he protected you it all rushed back to your mind at once. He is your husband, your protector, and your entire world.
Daphne rubbed your back gently, letting you let it all out. "I know, love," she whispered softly into your hair. "I know you do."You pulled back just a fraction, wiping your face with shaking hands.
The dining room was quiet. The long table was set with silver and fine china, reflecting the dim glow of the crystal chandelier. You sat at one end, while Margaret and Cecilia occupied their usual spots.You looked down at your plate, your heart hammering against your ribs so violently you were certain they could hear it. Inside your dress pocket, the medical report felt heavy, like a loaded weapon. You set your silver fork down. "Maggie, Cece," you said.Both women paused. Cecilia’s sharp eyes flicked up instantly. Margaret looked across the table at you, her gentle face turning toward you.
"I have something to say," you continued, holding your breath for a split second as you locked eyes with them. "I went to the doctor today for a checkup. My periods were quite late, you see. I didn't want to bother either of you with it, so I simply went to the clinic alone after my university classes." You paused, leaning back slightly, letting your hand rest naturally and protectively over your stomach. "The doctor gave me the results," you whispered, the words hanging heavily in the cold air of the dining room. "I’m pregnant."
As the words left your mouth both Margaret and Cecilia froze instantly, turning completely to stone. Neither of them blinked, neither of them breathed. They just stared at you, absolute shock locking their faces. Then, the silence shattered.Cecilia’s eyes brimmed with thick rapid tears. She shoved her chair back violently, throwing her sharp heels clicked messy rhythm as she fled up the grand staircase. Across the table, Margaret still didn't say a single word. She sat perfectly rigid, her face completely blank. You ran up the stairs behind Cecilia as Cecilia slammed her bedroom door shut. You didn't hesitate. You twisted the handle and burst inside before she could turn the lock.
"Go away, you bitch!" Cecilia shrieked, backing away toward her vanity, her hands shaking violently. "Get out of my room! Just leave me bloody alone!"
You didn’t listen, you marched straight into her space and threw your arms tightly around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug. Cecilia violently struggling against you for a brief second, pushing at your chest. But you held on, refusing to let her go she completely broke down, her hands clutching at your dress as she sobbed against your shoulder.
"Why?" Cecilia wept, her voice cracking with a lifetime of hidden agony. "Why you? I’m sure you trapped him. You must have. You know Margaret can't be a mumma... and I also can't! Not because I’m not capable! Not because my body is broken! But because Jungkook never wanted it! Every single time I asked, every time I begged for a child, he always denied it. He would shout, he would panic, he would push me away! He locked his heart after Eleanor....so why you? How did you get him to give you what he denied us for years?"
You looked at Cecilia, your own heart aching at the vulnerability of the woman who had done nothing but torment you since day one. You reached up, gently but firmly cupping her face so she had no choice but to lock eyes with you.
"Cecilia, look at me," you said, your voice soft, Cecilia blinked as she forced her gaze up to meet yours. As she looked closely at your face, seeing the genuine empathy and lack of malice in your eyes, her breathing suddenly hitched. The raw panic in her expression slowly froze, replaced by a sudden wave of deep embarrassment and regret. She pulled back just an inch.
"I’m sorry," Cecilia choked out"You're pregnant.... it's a massive thing for this family and I went and reacted like a bloody lunatic. I am truly sorry, Y/N ." Before you could even utter a word of comfort, Cecilia reached around the back of her neck with shaking hands. She unclasped a heavy, gold neckchain that she wore every single day.
She grabbed your hand and pressed the cold, heavy metal firmly into your palm, forcing your fingers to close over it. "Take it," she murmured, a solitary, final tear escaping her eye and tracking down her cheek. "Congratulations. On the baby. But don't go thinking we're best friends now," she added, "I still hate you a lot, Now get out of my room before I change my mind."
A small, emotional smile broke across your face as you looked at the heavy gold chain resting in your palm you stepped forward before she could pull away completely, leaned in, and planted a quick, affectionate kiss on Cecilia’s cheek. Cecilia froze instantly, her eyes widening in utter disbelief.
"Eww!" she gasped, wrinkling her nose dramatically and shaking her head as she took a giant step back from you. "Get away from me, you absolutely mental girl! What do you think you’re doing? I told you I hate you!"
A soft laugh escaped your lip. You clutched the gold necklace tightly in your hand, stepping backward toward the door. "Goodnight, Cece,"
"Out! Get out this instant!" she huffed, pointing a finger aggressively toward the hallway. You went out of her room.
The soft sound of footsteps on the carpet made you stop. Margaret was there , before you could say a word, she rushed forward. She threw her arms completely around you, pulling you into a tight hug. A heavy, choked sob broke from her throat, and you felt her warm tears.
"Oh, congratulations, sweetheart," Margaret wept, her voice trembling violently."And thank you... oh, thank you so much." She pulled back just an inch, her eyes swimming with thick, happy tears as she looked down at your face, her hands gently cupping your cheeks."I can finally be a mumma through you," Margaret whispered, a breathtaking, radiant smile breaking through her tears. "I never thought I would see a child running through these dreadful halls. I love you so much. You’ve given this family the greatest miracle."
She wiped her eyes quickly with the back of her hand, "Tell me what you want, darling. Anything at all?"
Maggie, I want you and Cecilia not to tell Jungkook about my pregnancy just yet," you said softly. "I mean, he is already so stressed over there with his business I don't want to overwhelm him. I'll tell him myself the very moment he comes back home."Margaret blinked, surprised by the request, but her expression quickly softened into an understanding smile. She patted your shoulder gently. "Of course, sweetheart. If that is what you think is best for him, our lips are sealed. You must rest now."
Four days had bled away since Jungkook’s departure. You hadn't dared step foot near Eleanor’s long-locked door because the mansion was crawling with staff and armed bodyguards who seemed to stay awake at all hours. You couldn't tell who was a protector and who was a monster in disguise, so you didn't trust a single soul.
Late that evening, Cecilia was sitting at her bed when her heavy telephone receiver suddenly rang out. She picked it up. It was Jungkook, calling all the way from his hotel in Europe, his voice thick with the heavy warmth of alcohol.
"Cecilia," he murmured. "I’ve just come back from the boutiques. I bought whatever you wrote down in that list of yours. Only... the specific lipstick shade you wrote at the bottom... the shopkeepers couldn't get it. It was completely sold out."
Cecilia’s voice dropping into a sharp, demanding purr. "Oh, is that so? Then you'll just have to pay for it right now, won't you, love?"
Jungkook let out a low, chuckle. "And how exactly does my demanding wife expect me to pay for a missing lipstick from across the Channel, hmm?"
"Use your imagination, Jeon," Cecilia whispered, her voice drop as she twirled the telephone cord around her finger. "Tell me more. I want to know how much you're actually missing me, darling."
"I miss you more than I care to admit, Cece," Jungkook rasped, his deep voice making her chest tighten with affection. "This hotel room feels entirely too massive without you tangled up in the sheets next to me."
Cecilia’s hand slipped past the silk of her nightgown, touching herself to the rhythm of his low chuckles as she imagined his heavy chest pressing down against her.
"I am your husband, Cece, I have every right to remind you exactly who you belong to," Jungkook murmured.
"Is it, Kook?" Cecilia whispered back, her voice thick with desire. "I want you to hold me tight, kiss me proper, and make me forget about every lonely night."
"It's an absolute guarantee, sweetheart," Jungkook replied, his voice softening with a heavy, drunken tenderness. "Now close your eyes and pretend my arms are around your waist—"
Click.
The bedroom door handle twisted, and the heavy door swung wide open. You stood at the threshold with a glass of water, Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of Cecilia flushed, breathless, with her hand tucked deep inside her silk nightgown. You froze to stone, your face turning a bright, burning crimson.
"Oh, for God's sake, you bloody little bitch!" Cecilia shrieked, instantly ripping her hand out of her nightgown. Her face contorted into a mask of pure rage. "Have you no decency? Knocking is a proper concept in this country, you upstart!"
"Who is that? Who's there?" Jungkook’s deep voice suddenly boomed through the receiver, his drunken haze completely vanishing. "Cecilia, who entered your room?"
"Who else, Jungkook?!" Cecilia snapped "Your precious little schoolgirl just barged straight into my private quarters!"
"Don't shout at her, Cecilia!" Jungkook said "Give her the phone."
You looked at the receiver in Cecilia's hand "Tell him to call on my telephone," you said quietly. Without waiting for a reply, you turned on your heel and rushed down the dark corridor, slipping back into your own bedroom. You collapsed onto the edge of the bed, a stray tear finally spilling over your lashes. You felt completely heartbroken. You loved him a lot, and that was exactly why this hurt like hell. Yet, a painful wave of maturity hit you. Jungkook wasn't doing anything wrong. After all, Cecilia was his wife too. She deserved his affection just as much as anyone else.
Ring... Ring...
You scrambled across the mattress, your fingers locking around the heavy plastic receiver. "Jungkook?" you whispered."Y/N?" Jungkook’s deep voice came through a soft, low murmur. "Are you alright, sweetheart? How are you doing over there?"
"I miss you," you whispered, a tear tracking down your cheek. "Please, Jungkook... I can't stay like this."The line went quiet for a long second. You could hear his heavy, steady breathing on the other end, shifting as he absorbed your unexpected vulnerability.
"Y/N,What is it, love? Did someone say something to you? Is it your head?"
"No," you choked out, desperately trying to swallow down the suffocating jealousy. "It’s just... the house is too big. It’s too cold without you. Why were you talking to Cecilia like that?" Over the line, you heard Jungkook let out a slow, heavy breath. "She is my wife too,Y/N ," he said softly, his deep voice carrying a calm but firm weight. "She has been here for years. I owe her my time and my attention just as I owe it to you."
You squeezed your eyes shut. You knew he was right, but it didn't stop the sharp sting in your chest. "I know," you whispered. "You're jealous, aren't you, sweetheart?" Jungkook murmured, a hint of tender amusement mixing with the protective worry in his voice. "My girl is sitting over there turning green."
"I am not," you lied breathlessly."......Do you love me?"
The words spilled from your lips before your mind could even attempt to pull them back.The silence that followe You knew you shouldn't have asked that. You knew for a fact that Jungkook had never once uttered the words I love you to Margaret or Cecilia in all their years of marriage. He had locked his heart away in a dark casket the day Eleanor died.
"Y/N" Jungkook finally murmured, "You are my wife. I am already planning to come early because you told me you were lonely. Don't go asking questions you already know the weight of. Now go into my room, use the master key I gave you, and get some sleep. I will handle you properly when I return."
You step out of your room and make a way toward Jungkook's room, you found the entire mansion unnaturally quiet. The house felt dead.You march towards Eleanor’s locked room. Since you had the master key, you didn't need to struggle with the grand wardrobe this time. You pushed Eleanor's door open, stepping back into the chilling, dust-covered horror of her private quarters. Your hands trembled with anticipation. You yanked open the top drawer, your eyes scanning the faded yellow papers where you had found that night.It was completely empty.Panic flared in your chest. You began frantically tearing through the other drawers, pulling out old lace handkerchiefs, empty perfume vials, and tangled jewelry, but the leather-bound book was gone. You checked under the mattress of the dust-covered bed, ran your fingers along the dark bookshelves, and searched every hollow corner of the wardrobe.
Eleanor's personal diary was gone. Someone had cleaned up the crime scene perfectly after knocking you unconscious. They had taken the diary, and now, your only real piece of evidence against the killer had completely vanished into thin air.
You stumbled back out of her room, you locked it tightly and turned toward Jungkook's room. The room still smelled faintly of his expensive tobacco and rich leather cologne. Needing to feel safe, needing to feel close to the only man you loved, you crawled onto his mattress and lay down, pulling his heavy blanket up to your chin.For a couple of hours, you lay there in the dark, your mind racing. The house was too quiet, the absence of the bodyguards’ footsteps echoing like an unspoken warning in your head.
Restless and unable to sleep, you finally sat up. You swung your legs out of the bed and walked over to the grand window to look out at the garden below. Your breath hitched, freezing instantly in your throat. Down in the shadows of the old tree, completely exposed by the silver moonlight, stood a tall, dark silhouette.
The shadow was motionless, standing perfectly rigid in the pouring rain, its head tilted upward, looking directly up at the master bedroom window. Looking directly at you. Panic seized your entire body, turning your blood to ice.
A loud, terrified shriek tore from your throat. "NO!" you screamed, tears of pure horror bursting from your eyes as you lunged forward. Your hands scrambled frantically against the window, your fingers shaking so violently you could barely get a grip. You slammed the heavy glass panes shut.You stumbled backward onto the floor, clutching your chest, your heart hammering against your ribs as you stared at the glass, terrified that the shadow would move toward the house.
You threw the bedroom door open, sprinting blindly down the dark, You didn't stop until you reached Margaret’s room. You pounded on the heavy door until it swung open, revealing Margaret in her nightgown, her face a mask of sudden confusion.
"Darling, why are you awake?" Margaret asked. "It is so late." You didn't answer. You collapsed straight into her arms, sobbing as you buried your face against her shoulder. "There's someone... someone is standing in the backyard, Margaret!" you choked out. "They were looking right up at me!"
Margaret’s expression instantly turned serious. Holding your shaking shoulders, she guided you over to her own window. "Sweetheart, there is absolutely no one out there. It’s just the wind. Look for yourself."
"No! I know what I saw!" you snapped in pure panic. "I am not bloody mad, Margaret!"The harsh words hung in the quiet room. Realizing you had just yelled at the only woman who had been genuinely kind to you since day one, You looked down at your hands, swallowing hard.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Maggie. I didn't mean to snap. I'm just... I'm so terrified."
Margaret’s expression melted into a look of deep, unconditional warmth. She reached out, gently wiping tear from your cheek."There is no need to apologize, darling. You are carrying a child, and your nerves are completely shot," Margaret murmured, her voice smooth, comforting, and entirely safe. "You can sleep with me tonight if you want. No one can get to you in here, I promise."
The morning light broke through the kitchen windows , you went to take a glass of water , The kitchen was nearly empty, save for one of the junior maids standing near the silver tea service. You froze, you saw her fingers trembling as she opened a small, folded piece of paper, carefully tapping a white, powdery substance directly into teacup.
You lunged forward, shoving the maid back violently against the marble counter. "What on earth do you think you’re doing?!" you shouted. "Why are you doing this? What do you want from me? Speak!"
The maid went completely pale, her eyes widening in pure panic. She dropped to her knees right there on the stone floor, her hands shaking as she begged you through sudden, frantic tears. "I’m sorry, madam! Please, I beg of you, it wasn't me! I didn't want to do it! I was asked to do this... I was threatened!"
"Who?!" you yelled, bending down to grip her shoulders, "Who bloody told you to do it?!"
Margaret strode into the room, She lunged forward and delivered a slap across the maid's face, the loud crack ringing through the kitchen. "You vile, disgusting creature!" Margaret hissed, "How dare you try to poison a child in this house? Get out of my sight! Guards! Take this pathetic wretch out of my mansion instant!" Two bodyguards rushed in, grabbing the weeping maid by her arms and dragging her roughly out the back doors.
You stood there, breathless and trembling, trying to process Margaret’s explosive defense of you. But as you turned around, you saw Cecilia standing perfectly still at the kitchen door. Her face was a mask of cold, unreadable calculation.
Without saying a single word, Cecilia marched right up to the silver tray. She picked up the teacup. In one smooth, violent motion, she threw the, poisoned tea directly into Margaret’s face.
"NO!" you shrieked, jumping back in absolute horror as the dark liquid splashed across Margaret's skin and elegant dress. You turned on Cecilia, your chest heaving with rage. "Are you completely mad, Cecilia?! What is wrong with you?!" Cecilia just gave a disgusting look at you and storm out of the kitchen .
Later that day you sat on the edge of her velvet stool, your hands resting nervously on your lap. Margaret stood right behind you, combing your hair "You must take things easy, darling," Margaret murmured, "I have an excellent book on pre-natal care. It was written by a top specialist. Wait here a moment, I’ll find it for you."
She stepped away, walking over to her grand, wardrobe in the corner of the room. She began sliding open the heavy wooden panels, searching.As the wardrobe door shifted fully, your sight followed her movements and your heart completely stopped.
There, tucked away in the deep shadows behind a row, was a familiar, old leather binding. It was slightly uncovered, a corner of the yellowed pages peeking out where someone had hastily shoved it into hiding. Eleanor's personal diary. Your entire world shattered in an absolute, suffocating heartbeat.
A wave of pure horror crashed through your veins, turning your blood to ice. You instantly forced your face away, staring blankly down at the floorboards, your knuckles turning white as your jaw shut to keep from screaming. You didn't react. You didn't let out a single gasp. You kept your face perfectly still, a mask of pure survival.But inside, the fear grew the blinding hurt that followed was unbearable.
Not Margaret, your mind wept in absolute agony. Anyone but her, all the love you had felt for this woman, all the moments she had comforted you, she said Eleanor was her bestfriend, she made you her bestfriend, the way she had cradled you against her chest, the way she had slapped the maid to defend you this morning it all crashed down at once like a house of cards. It had all been a lie. She was the one who had smashed the metal rod into your skull. Margaret was Eleanor's killer.
"Here we are, sweetheart," She handed you the book. She smiled down at you with nothing but pure adoration. "Read it thoroughly, okay darling? It will tell you absolutely everything you need to know about bringing a new life into this house."
You forced your legs to move, clutching the heavy pregnancy books to your chest like a shield as you excused yourself from Margaret’s bedroom. The moment the deadbolt clicked into place, the books tumbled to the floor, and you collapsed against the door, your entire body shaking as the horrifying reality of Margaret's betrayal fully sank in. Desperate for a lifeline, your hands scrambled for your bedside telephone. Your fingers trembled violently as you dialed the international operator, forcing the connection through to Europe.
"Hello?" Jungkook’s deep voice came through the crackling wire, "I am in the middle of a vital negotiation right now, sweetheart. I cannot talk at the moment."
"Please, honey... can you come back? Please," you begged your voice completely breaking as tears flooded your eyes. You needed him home. You needed the only man who could protect you from the monster sleeping just down the corridor.Jungkook let out a heavy, stressed sigh his focus entirely consumed by his business venture.
"What happened,Y/N? If it is about the house or your health, go to Margaret. Go talk to her, she will handle it. I told you she manages—"
"No!" you sobbed, a sharp, choked gasp escaping your throat as you cut him off. "No, Jungkook... I want you. Only you. Please, just come home."
"Y/N, listen to me," Jungkook’s voice dropped into a deep, strained murmur. "I understand you're upset, sweetheart. But you know I am trying to finish this as fast as I humanly can. I am doing this for our family." The word family hit you like a physical blow. He was thousands of miles away, completely blind to the fact that his trusted first wife was a cold-blooded murderer, and that you were currently trapped with her because of a fake pregnancy report.
"Fine! Stay there then!" you shouted, your voice echoing sharply against the cold walls of your bedroom. Tears of pure frustration and terror burned down your cheeks as your chest heaved. "Stay in Europe! Come back when I'll die ! Come back when it's too late!"
"Y/n—!"Before he could say, you violently slammed the heavy plastic receiver back onto its cradle, cutting him off completely.
You didn't wait to see if anyone had heard your scream. You ran blindly down the dimly lit corridor toward the only other person who might be safe. Cecilia. She was bitter, and she hated you, but she wasn't a killer. You reached her door, your hand stretching out to grasp the brass handle. But just as your fingers brushed the cold metal, you froze.
CRACK.
The sharp, echoing sound of a brutal slap rang out from inside the room, followed by a heavy thud. Your breath caught tightly in your throat. Before you could even think to turn and run, the door was violently flung wide open from the inside.Standing there Margaret.The moment she saw you standing there, a flash of absolute panic distorted her beautiful features.
"Baby!" Margaret gasped, "What are you doing out of bed? It is freezing out here. Come along, darling, let's go back to your room this instant." She immediately stepped into your space, her body blocking the doorway, but it was too late. You desperately tilted your head, your eyes darting past her shoulder into the dim light of the bedroom.Inside, Cecilia was standing near her vanity, her back turned completely toward the door. Her shoulders were hunched, and her entire frame was trembling violently as she breathed in hard. Margaret physically yanked you away from the threshold, pulling you back into the dark, empty corridor as she clicked Cecilia's door shut behind her.
The morning light broke through the heavy grey clouds. You hadn't slept a wink. The image of Cecilia trembling in her room and Margaret’s terrifyingly tight grip on your arm replayed in your mind on a loop. You were completely trapped in a house of horrors, and Jungkook was still across the Channel.Your fingers shook as you reached for the heavy plastic telephone receiver on your nightstand. You couldn't wait for Jungkook anymore. You couldn't play detective alone while a killer walked the halls. You needed to end this nightmare before Margaret came for you next.You lifted the receiver and aggressively dialed the emergency operator.The line crackled instantly, a sharp British voice cutting through the static.
"Emergency. Which service do you require?"
"Police," you whispered, your voice trembling but hardening with a sudden, fierce determination. "Connect me to the police immediately." There was a series of clicks before a stern officer answered the line.
"Constabulary headquarters. State your emergency."You gripped the receiver tightly against your ear, taking a deep breath as you made the biggest, most dangerous decision of your life. "My name is Jeon y/n," you stated firmly, using your official title as Jungkook's wife to command immediate authority.
"I need you to deploy your units to the Jeon Mansion as soon as possible. There is a severe threat to life inside this house. Please, hurry."
"Understood, Mrs. Jeon. Units are on their way. Stay in a secure location," the officer replied.You clacked the receiver back onto its cradle, the sharp sound echoing in the quiet room. Your heart was hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird.
Genre: fantasy!au, demon!au, haunted apartment, horror (its not too bad bc im a coward guys), slow burn, forced proximity, supernatural romance, angst.
Summary: Jungkook is trapped in an attic, cursed to win affection from those who fear him most. Every tenant has fled until you move in. With your budget and patience on the line, you refuse to leave. Now you’re stuck sharing a space with a creature no priest, shaman, or exorcist can get rid of, and neither of you can escape.
Warnings: supernatural/fantasy themes, mentions of blood and physical attacks, mild language.
Word count: 8k
a/n: a smaller and happy chapter! 🤍
check out my: masterlist | banner creds to: vzzartt
You woke up to pain spreading through your whole body.
At first, the pain was only felt on your jaw. You could feel a deep aching throb, heavy enough that it felt like your teeth were being pushed out of place.
Then you felt the pain on your ribs, it was sharp and unbearable, and then the pain was felt on the back of your skull where your head must have hit the stone hard enough it would have split it open if you were still fully human.
For a few seconds, you couldn’t think beyond the pain. It was just everywhere, pressing into every part of you at once.
You tried to breathe the way the school psychologist taught you, slow and steady, a technique to calm yourself down with. But the moment you inhaled too deeply, a strangled sound left your mouth before you could stop it.
You tried to move, but your wrists wouldn’t budge. At first, your mind didn’t understand why your hands weren't able to move behind you. The pain you felt throughout your body wasn't helping your brain in figuring it out what was happening with you.
It took you too long to understand that you were tied up.
Your wrists were bound behind your back, looped around something solid, and a sharp edge of rock pressed into your spine whenever you shifted even slightly.
You looked around slowly, blinking through the ache in your skull, and realised you were inside a cave.
It was nothing like the cave Seokjin took you to in the below. This cave you were in was so much smaller compared to the endless and vast cave in the below, yet this cave had the same dull, cold, and lightless feeling. And with your new Demon senses, you could feel that the founding energy here was weak, and even almost nonexistent.
“She’s awake,” a familiar voice said.
You turned your head slowly and found Eris sitting on a flat shelf of rock near the narrow opening of the cave.
One of her legs was crossed over the other, and she looked completely unbothered, as if she was not the reason you were tied to a rock with your whole body screaming in pain.
She didn’t try to move to help you, which was obvious enough, but she also didn’t seem particularly interested now that you were conscious, as if inflicting pain on you was more entertaining than watching the aftermath.
“Good,” another familiar voice said.
You followed the voice and found Seokjin standing a few feet away from you, his arms loosely folded as he looked straight into your eyes.
“I was beginning to think Eris was being too enthusiastic in hurting you,” Seokjin said.
“I was appropriately enthusiastic,” Eris replied, admiring her nails instead of looking at either of you, “I controlled myself. She’s still alive, isn’t she?”
“Barely,” Seokjin said.
“Barely is still alive, your majesty,” Eris mocked.
You listened to them talk as if you weren’t there, as if your body wasn’t the subject of the conversation happening right in front of you.
“Where am I?” you asked, it came out as a whisper, and you hated how small it must have made you look in the eyes of these two Demons.
“The border,” Seokjin replied, “between the North and the Lee. It is a contested ground which means it is almost claimed by no one.”
Eris finally looked over at you then and her gaze moved over your face and the way you were trying so hard to hide how much pain you were in.
“I wonder what Jungkook sees in you,” Eris said, “you’re not worth a thing, so weak and stupid.”
“Maybe it’s not about what he sees,” you said, with your voice shaking more than you wanted it to, “maybe it’s about what I have that you don’t have.”
Eris walked across the cave to where you were so quickly that one second she was sitting and the next she was standing in front of you. She puts her hand under your chin, forcing your head to tilt up until you have no choice but to look at her.
Eris’s fingers dug onto your face with enough force that you winced, and her smile widened as if the sound of you being in pain pleased her.
“I am going to enjoy watching you lose the ability to talk. Wait, no, I will enjoy watching you die in my hands,” Eris said.
You hated how scared you were and the way some desperate part of you wished you were already dead so you wouldn’t have to go through whatever came next.
“Eris,” Seokjin said, “not yet.”
Eris did not let go of you immediately. She held your face for another moment, her thumb pressing hard enough against your cheek that you knew another bruise would form there, before Eris finally stepping back, “You said I could have her.”
“I said you could have her eventually,” Seokjin answered, “she needs to be conscious enough to be useful, and functional enough to last until Jungkook arrives. If you break her jaw, she won’t be able to scream and if she can’t even do that, the message we are trying to send to Jungkook becomes considerably less effective.”
You stared at both of them as they discussed what they wanted to do with your body like you weren’t there for the second time now.
“Well, how long?” Eris asked, “she’s such a sore sight, I want to kill her in front of him. I want Jungkook to realise I’m stronger and more deserving of him.”
“As long as it needs to take,” Seokjin said, ignoring Eris’s obsession towards his brother.
“I want him here,” Eris said, “I want him here now. I want him to see me break her apart even more.”
“Eris,” Seokjin sighed, “that is precisely why you are not the one making these decisions.”
The atmosphere in the cave changed slightly and you remembered feeling something similar in the below when Seokjin’s anger started to slip out of his control, but this was Eris, and her control was nowhere near as practiced as the first Demon prince of the North.
“I am not your soldier, Seokjin,” Eris growled.
“No,” Seokjin agreed, still so calm that it made you wonder if anything in him could truly be shaken, “you are my accomplice, which means you are bound by the same outcome I am bound by. I did not survive the necromancer's realm and walked out of it just to be killed because you couldn’t wait to murder a weakling.”
“I have waited centuries,” Eris snapped, “centuries, Seokjin. Do you understand that? I didn’t know where he was for years until I received information that his own brother cursed him to Earth. And ever since then, Jungkook has chosen a human.”
“A Demon,” Seokjin corrected.
“I don’t care,” Eris spat, “and you would understand my urgency if you have ever once in your existence wanted something the way I want Jungkook.”
“I want the North Citadel more than you want him,” Seokjin replied, “I have wanted it since before I understood what wanting something was. So do not stand in front of me and suggest I don’t understand what it means to want something bad enough to burn things down for it. The difference between us, Eris, is that I am patient enough to wait until burning it down actually gets me the outcome I want.”
You watched the exchange between the two demons in front of you, and in the worst possible way, it became a kind of distraction. Maybe your brain was only trying to focus on anything other than the pain spreading through your body, and watching them argue distracted you from your pain.
You couldn’t stop the bitter thought that followed. You thought to yourself how these two would have made a dangerously good couple. It was funny in the ugliest way, how both of them wanted Jungkook for completely different reasons, and both of them were willing to destroy anything around him to get what they wanted.
“Leave,” Eris said suddenly to Seokjin, “go to your war camp and be with the Lee soldiers and your followers. Let me stay here. You’ll get what you want either way, you don’t need to watch what’s going to happen here.”
“I want to watch,” Seokjin said.
“Why?” Eris asked angrily.
“Because for thousands of years, I was the first son,” Seokjin said, “I was the one who was supposed to inherit everything. Instead, I watched my father look past me every single time, towards a brother who never even wanted what I wanted. I want to be standing here when Jungkook understands that the only reason any of this happened is because I made it happen, because I decided he needed to lose something the way I lost something.”
Somewhere through the pain and fear, you realised you just learned something about Seokjin. This was not only about the throne. It has never only been about the throne, it was about feeling as if he was never enough, and somehow the human part of you, felt sympathy for him.
It was stupidly sad and that made you angrier, because sympathy should not excuse cruelty, and being overlooked did not make him less responsible for turning you into something you never wanted to be.
“Fine,” Eris said at last, “but when he gets here, I will deal with her first.”
“You can have her,” Seokjin said, “I have no interest in that part.”
Eris turned back to you then, and the smile on her face had nothing warm in it. Nothing that resembled Ymir, or the Demon who once sat beside you on a stone bench.
“You should have left your studio,” Eris said, crouching down to your level, “and let some other tenant take your place. Instead, you stayed and now you are going to be the reason you die.”
“You’re wrong,” you responded.
Eris’s smile widened slightly, “And what part of this, exactly, am I wrong about?”
“Because I’m not going to die, Jungkook will save me.”
“You are foolish," Eris laughed.
“I’m not,” you replied back.
Seokjin laughed softly behind Eris, “She is irritating,” he said, “I can see why Jungkook kept her.”
“I am not an object to keep,” you said.
“No,” Seokjin replied, looking back at you, “you are something worse. You are an attachment.”
“Jungkook will kill you,” you said.
Eris looked back at you, and her face softened into something almost gentle, “He will try,” she said, “but you’d be surprised how differently a Demon fights when the thing he obsesses over is dying in front of him. Distraction is the only weapon we will ever need against him.”
“Obssess?” you asked, “Jungkook is not obsessed with me.”
Eris let out a laugh, “Your kind would see it as love, but of course he doesn’t truly love you,” she said, “Jungkook is not human. Humans love while Demons only see possession, obsession, and violence. You should have learned that by now.”
“No,” you said, and your voice was shaking in fear, but you kept going, “that’s how you love.”
For the second time, Eris moved before you could breathe. Her fist connected with your stomach, and you gasped when feeling the impact of her punch, but no sound came out.
“Eris,” Seokjin said.
“She can still move,” Eris replied, standing over you, “see?”
Seokjin stepped closer and caught Eris by the arm, it was firm enough to remind her that he could stop her if he decided to, “She needs to remain alive,” Seokjin said, talking about you as if you weren’t in the room with them.
Eris looked down at you, then she pulled her arm free of Seokjin’s grip, “Fine.”
“You really are inconvenient,” Seokjin said to you as he watched Eris walk away from where you and Seokjin were.
“I’ve been told,” you said.
Seokjin shrugged and walked out of the cave after Eris, leaving you alone with the dark and the distant sound of something moving closer. You leaned your head back against the rock and closed your eyes.
Everything in your body was painful and you really couldn’t help but wonder if this was it for you.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Jungkook was strapping the last piece of armor into place when Jophiel arrived.
The first thing Jungkook noticed was not the angel’s presence, but the way he came into the place. Jophiel’s energy never felt this way in all the centuries Jungkook has known him. His energy could sometimes be annoying and it’s almost always too bright and insufferably energetic, but not today.
Today, Jophiel’s energy felt different.
Jungkook looked up as Jophiel stood near the entrance of the armory, and his unbothered posture was gone, and all Jungkook saw now was a posture rigid enough to make every creature in the room go silent.
There were only a few Demons inside, soldiers helping secure Jungkook’s weapons and armor, and even they stepped back immediately when Jophiel came into view.
“How?” Jophiel asked in disbelief, “How did someone walk into the North Citadel, spend days alone with _____, and kidnapped her?”
Jungkook didn’t answer right away, he pulled the strap on his forearm guard tighter than necessary. If he could be completely honest, Jungkook did not have an answer to Jophiel’s question and admitting that would be worse.
“Days,” Jophiel said again, stepping further into the armory, “I was gone for a few days and in that time, some stranger walked past every soldier in this citadel, sat beside _____ and you are telling me no one noticed?”
“I noticed she had a friend,” Jungkook said.
Before Jophiel could even respond to Jungkook, The King entered with Woojin a step behind him. Every soldier in the room bowed their heads, every single creature in the room except Jungkook and Jophiel.
“Eris,” The King said, “The Demon who took her was Eris.”
Jophiel froze, and Jungkook knew that look on Jophiel’s face. He has seen it once before, centuries ago, just seconds before Jophiel took Jungkook’s arm and teleported them both away from a room, stopping Jungkook before he tried to kill Eris.
“She has wanted Jungkook for centuries,” Jophiel said, “and you are telling me she walked freely through your citadel and no one questioned her?”
“The spell was thorough,” The King said.
Jophiel turned to Woojin. Something in his expression sharpened, it was the face he shows when he finally found a missing piece to a puzzling situation.
Jungkook has always been proud of himself of befriending the Angel of Enlightenment. It was so easy for Jophiel to gather and extract information or clairty, he has helped Jungkook multiple times with it too.
“The Demon assigned to follow her,” Jophiel said, turning his head to Jungkook, “do you know who the Demon you assigned to follow her?”
“Woojin assigned the Demon,” Jungkook said quietly, “he has served the North for over two centuries.”
“Didn’t you know,” Jophiel said, “to never trust a Demon?”
Jophiel turned his head slowly and looked at The King, then at Woojin, and back to The King again, “You knew,” Jophiel said to The King.
The King said nothing, he didn’t deny or look away.
Jungkook’s gaze shifted between Jophiel and his father, although he was confused, he was immediately putting two and two together. “Father?” Jungkook asked.
The King still said nothing and his silence, more than anything Jophiel has said, told Jungkook everything.
Jungkook then turned to Woojin, his right-hand Demon.
Woojin was also not denying it or trying to defend himself, and he did not so much as flinch when Jungkook walked across the room in a single motion and wrapped his hand around Woojin’s throat, lifting him off the ground.
“You,” Jungkook said, “you were the one feeding information out.”
Woojin’s hands came up, not to fight, but to surrender, “Master,” he managed to say.
“It was your father’s order,” Woojin explained himself, “from before you even returned to Kratos. He told me what was coming, what futures he saw, and he told me what needed to happen for the North to survive it.”
Jungkook’s grip tightened around Woojin’s neck, but he was interrupted before he could even kill his right-hand man right there and then.
“Jungkook,” The King commanded.
“You used her,” Jungkook said, lifting Woojin even higher and not loosening his hold, “you let Eris walk these halls for days.”
“Yes,” The King said.
Jungkook’s eyes moved to his father. The King looked exactly like when Jungkook was a child watching his father from the far side of the throne room. The King’s expression was cold, controlled, and he possessed a patience no living thing should have been capable of.
“I saw the futures where I stopped this from happening,” The King said, “in every one of them, Seokjin found another way. I saw the futures where I allowed it to unfold exactly as it has, where the human girl is taken, and you go after her with everything you have left,” his voice remained calm, almost unbearably so, “I saw the only future in which the North survives this war and it requires Eris to be in Kratos and Eris to take ____.”
“She is not a piece on your board,” Jungkook said.
“Everyone is a piece on the board in Kratos, even myself. There is a huge chance you might kill me after all of this,” The King said, “that is what it means to rule a citadel that has never lost. I did not enjoy this decision, I want you to understand that. But I have watched a thousand futures where I protected the human from Eris, and in every one of them, the North fell with more blood spent. I chose the version where North Kratos does not fall at all, and most importantly, I chose the version where you would have a reason to stop holding back.”
“You have refused the throne your entire existence,” The King continued, “you refused it when your brother wanted it. You refused it when the citadel began to fear your name more than his. The North does not survive because its ruler wants power. It survives because its ruler understands when power must be used. Your brother does not understand restraint, while you do. But one thing you still do not understand is the responsibility of being the most feared and powerful.”
Jungkook laughed and tightened his grip around Woojin’s neck, “You are lecturing me about responsibility after letting ____ be taken.”
“Yes,” The King said, “because that is precisely what ruling The North requires.”
Jungkook released Woojin from his grip.
The Demon stumbled back, one hand closing around his throat. His tail had gone rigid behind him, but he did not run or retreat. He only stood there and waited for whatever Jungkook chose to do next.
And even through the rage, Jungkook understood it.
Woojin did not do this out of disloyalty to him. He obeyed the order of a King whose sight reached farther than any of them could understand. Whatever it had cost him, that obedience was never a betrayal of Jungkook.
But it was a betrayal of your trust in Woojin.
That was what made it unforgivable for Jungkook.
Jungkook looked at Woojin, and Woojin bowed his head, “I deserve whatever punishment you choose,” Woojin said.
“Yes,” Jungkook replied, “If she dies,” Jungkook said, looking at The King and Woojin, “I will kill the two of you.”
And no one in the room mistook it for hyperbole.
“I know,” The King simply said. It was in his vision, he did all of this knowing that would happen. The King didn’t care if he had to die, because this was simply what was best for the North.
Jophiel, who had remained silent through the confrontation, finally spoke up, “Then I suggest we stop discussing what has already happened, and start discussing how we get her back.”
Jungkook picked up the last of his weapons from the table without another word, a long black metal blade from the North, and he slid it into place at his side.
"The contested ground," Woojin said revealing everything he knew, "between the North and the Lee, where the founding energy dies out, that is where Seokjin will have taken her. Eris needed cover, and that strip of border territory is the only place in Kratos where neither citadel can sense what moves through it clearly. They will be in a cave," Woojin paused for only a second, “____ is still there. Seokjin will not have moved her again, because that would mean risking losing the advantage of being untraceable.”
“She is still alive. She is hurt, but she is alive. I can feel that she has not died, that is all. I cannot locate her through it, not with the border’s founding energy disrupted. But I know enough to say you still have time,” The King said, before adding, “what do you intend to do, Jungkook?” The King added.
“I will go to the contested ground with Jophiel. We will deal with Seokjin and Eris. The rest of you will reinforce every border, raise the citadel’s defences, and protect North Kratos at all costs.”
Jungkook looked at his father before leaving the armory, “You wanted me to stop holding back,” Jungkook said.
The King nodded at his son, “Yes.”
“Then do not complain about what it will cost you,” Jungkook replied.
Jungkook left before his father could answer and Jophiel followed him out of the armory. As they moved through the North Citadel, guards stepped aside and servants lowered their eyes, and no one dared to utter a word to him.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You stopped counting the hours by the time Seokjin came back into the cave by himself.
At first, you thought it was Eris. The footsteps were soft and unhurried, but it still made your shoulders tense up and your mouth dry, and you hated that you were still this afraid of them after everything.
Then Seokjin stepped into view, and somehow that was even worse because Eris was obvious in her cruelty. She wore her jealousy like a wound she wanted everyone else to suffer with her for. But Seokjin was different. He makes it seem as though you should be grateful that cruelty was all he had chosen to give and treaat you with.
The rope had loosened earlier during one of your attempts to free yourself. You waited until both of them were gone, then twisted your wrist slowly, carefully, trying to use the blood slicking your skin to slide one hand free. For one stupid hopeful second, you thought it might work.
Then Seokjin returned and he noticed immediately, of course he did. He said nothing at first. Seokjin only crouched behind you, examined the knot, and corrected it with a single sharp motion.
You were still conscious, still aware enough to watch Seokjin crouch in front of you the way he did in the below, elbows resting on his knees, studying you with that same unsettling curiosity.
“Eris is resting,” Seokjin said, “she is exhausted. What about you? Do you feel tired too? I stopped feeling much of anything centuries ago,” he chuckled as if not feeling anything was something to show off about.
“Lucky you,” you replied.
Seokjin’s mouth curved into a small smile across his face, “You’re still talking so feisty. I find that more interesting than I probably should.”
“Then you’ll be disappointed when I stop,” you said.
“Probably,” Seokjin agreed. Then he looked at you for a few seconds before asking, “do you think my brother has affection for you?”
The question was so unexpected that you just stared at him.
For a second the cave disappeared, and your mind went somewhere else. Your mind wandered to Jungkook in the studio, standing behind the couch and pretending he was studying your species while watching television. To Jungkook who tried to cook for you when you were sick. To Jungkook who offered to be your fever patch. To Jungkook in the North Citadel, standing outside your door to make sure you knew you were never alone. To Jungkook warning you not to wander too far. To Jungkook looking at you like you have become something he did not know how to name.
“I don’t know,” you replied, “but maybe.”
Seokjin didn’t say anything and just stared at you. Maybe it was weird for him that Jungkook has affection for you, or that you thought Jungkook, the Demon prince, could even have affection for you. You didn’t know exactly what was going through Seokjin’s mind but you were sure it was either one of those.
“Let me ask you a question too,” you said, “when you have the throne… when Jungkook and your father are gone and you’re sitting up there in that citadel with everyone finally kneeling the way you’ve always wanted them to, what exactly do you think is going to be waiting for you?”
“Power,” Seokjin said.
“Okay..” you replied, “Power.. and who’s going to stand next to you when you have it? Eris? The Lee? Or Your own citadel?”
“You don’t know anything about my citadel or how North Kratos works,” Seokjin plainly replied, understanding that you were about to lecture him about some bullshit you thought you knew about Kratos.
“I know enough,” you said.
“No,” he replied, “you do not know anything.”
“I know Jungkook never wanted the throne,” you said before adding, “I know your father wanted him on it anyway. I know that must have hurt you. I think it probably still does.”
Something in Seokjin’s face closed off entirely then, what you just said was something you probably should have never said to him. At least not in the state you were in now. You didn’t know where you found the courage to say what you just said, but you are going to die anyway, might as well humble the first Demon prince who needed it.
“That,” Seokjin said, standing up slowly, “was a mistake. Annoying the fuck out of me was a fucking mistake!” Seokjin said loudly as his hand wrapped around your already injured arm, and then he twisted it. and the sound that came out of you was not something you had any control over. It was an involuntary cry that seemed to satisfy something in Seokjin in a way your words clearly had not.
“There,” Seokjin said quietly, releasing your arm.
You slumped against the rock, your head was spinning and each breath you took left you with pain in your chest.
“Now you’ll have something to remember me by when my brother finally arrives to find what’s left of you,” Seokjin smirked, “also you really should have learned how to act by now,” Seokjin said, “humans are all so stupid and annoying.”
“I’m not a human anymore,” you whispered.
“No,” he agreed, “you are also not entirely a Demon.”
Seokjin reached his hand out and brushed a strand of hair away from your face, the gesture was so gentle yet creepy, and it made your skin crawl.
“You know what I find most fascinating about all of this?” he asked, “it isn’t Jungkook developing affections for you, that part is strange, yes, but not impossible. My brother has always been defective in different ways. What I find fascinating is that you somehow convinced yourself your presence improved him.”
You were in too much pain to say anything back to him.
“You think you made him better,” Seokjin continued, “safer, even more human, maybe. You think the fact that he restrained himself around you means something has changed in him fundamentally. It hasn’t.”
Seokjin’s fingers dropped away from your face, “He is still a Demon,” Seokjin said.
“You don’t know him the way you think you do either,” you said, “he was trapped and powerless on earth, and he spent centuries in a room smaller than his bathroom in Kratos, and he survived.”
“What an impressive standard,” Seokjin said, “he did not do anything, therefore he is good.”
“I didn’t say he was good,” you replied, “Jungkook understands that he has options. Jungkook can choose not to want the throne. He can choose not to become the version of himself Kratos expects. He can choose wrong sometimes and still choose differently later. I think you hate that because you think wanting the throne is the only thing that makes sense, and trying to choose between options is something you do not understand because you do not have mastery to be fully aware of. it.”
Seokjin did not move for a long time, and when he finally rose to his feet, you flinched before you could stop yourself, your body was so traumatised you were already bracing for him to hurt you again. But he only turned towards the mouth of the cave, listening to something beyond the reach of your own hearing.
“He is close,” Seokjin said.
Your heart started beating faster hearing what Seokjin said. You tried not to let it show, but when he looked back at you, his expression changed slightly. He heard it, the small, stupid flicker of relief you tried to bury.
“There it is,” he said softly, “hope.” You looked away, but Seokjin smiled anyway. “Do you know what hope is in Kratos?”
You did not answer.
“It is a delay before disappointment,” Seokjin said, “nothing more.”
Then he turned around and walked out of the cave.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
For a few minutes, you were alone.
Eris and Seokjin were not anywhere nearby. The cave was silent, and you could only hear your breathing held nothing but your breathing and the quiet sounds you made whenever the pain in your body became too much to handle.
You let your head fall back against the rock. You wanted water, sleep, your studio, your stupid sofa, and your old life back. Being human was so simple, and being alive and healthy are something a lot of humans take for granted, including you.
Not long after, Eris stepped back into the cave smiling from ear to ear.
“He’s here,” she said.
The smile on her face was not out of happiness, it was something closer to fulfillment, as though every year she spent wanting Jungkook has led her to this exact moment. She walked across the cave slowly, then crouched in front of you once she reached you, close enough that you could see the light in her eyes, “do you sense him?”
You did, and everyone probably did.
Eris’s smile widened, “Jungkook always did know how to make an entrance. He will come for you, and when he does get here, he will finally look at me again. And he will realise that I am all he has ever wanted.”
“He doesn’t want you and he never will,” you said.
Eris’s expression changed, and you saw the moment the smile stopped reaching her eyes, “Be careful with what you’re saying to me,” she said.
“Even you know I’m right,” you bravely spoke out. Knowing Jungkook was near meant you would be free of these two Demons soon, and hence this thought has raised your hope and bravery.
Eris's fingers cupped your cheek with force, hard enough to make you wince, “You know nothing about us,” Eris said before she struck you and you could feel the blood filling your mouth again.
“You are very brave,” Eris said, “which is stupid for someone so easy to break.”
Your whole body has been hurting but what Eris did to you made you realise how much your arms, ribs, and wrists hurt. You tried to breathe quietly through your nose, but even that now felt difficult.
Eris watched you struggle for a moment, and then she smiled again, “You know,” she said gently, “I wanted to wait until he came in, but I just couldn’t when you look so freaking cute when you’re so fucking weak.”
Eris reached into something behind her back pocket, and when her hand came into view again, Eris was holding a knife. The knife was thin, narrow, and elegant. The moment you realised what was happening, your body went still.
And Eris noticed the change in your posture immediately, “There it is,” she whispered, “that little human fear is so delicious,” she said as she licked her lips.
“I’m not human anymore,” you managed.
“Oh baby you wish you were a Demon, huh?” she leaned closer, “you are nothing like one when you so clearly still fear like a human.”
She pressed the flat side of the blade beneath your chin to force you to move your head back against the rock. Your whole body wanted to pull away, but there was nowhere to go, you were still tied and the stone behind you gave you no opening to run anywhere.
Then she shifted the knife in her hand until the tip rested against your throat.
You stopped breathing, you’ve seen it in movies. People getting threatened, you’ve heard it in stories of people getting robbed. But you never once thought you would be the one in this situation.
She wasn’t pushing it deep enough to hurt you, but the pressure was hard enough for you to understand exactly what Eris wanted to tell you. A little more pressure, a better angle, and one move from Eris and you would be dead.
Eris leaned close enough that her hair brushed your shoulder, “Stay very still,” she murmured, “unless you want to make this end faster.”
You wanted to say something to wipe that look off her face, something that would make it seem as though you still had control of anything in this cave.
But the knife was at your throat. So for once, your mouth and brain listened to your fear.
Eris stayed crouched in front of you for another moment, her white eyes moving over your face like she was memorising it, or maybe deciding exactly how much she wanted to enjoy this before Jungkook arrived. Then she stood slowly, unhurried, and circled around behind you.
Eris was now standing at your back. Her hand found your hair first, fingers threading through it and then pulling until your head tilted back against her, exposing the full length of your throat, and the angle was worse this way.
You couldn't see her face, and you couldn't read what Eris was going to do next.
The knife came around to your throat from behind.
Eris rested her forearm along your collarbone, using your own body as a surface to brace the blade against your skin, and the position you were in now meant that any movement you made, even the smallest flinch, would drive the point deeper.
"There," she said quietly, close to your ear, "much better."
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Something in the air changed when Jungkook was nearing the cave.
And realising this change, Eris’s smile widened and Seokjin, who was standing near the cave entrance, turned his head slightly.
A moment later, Jungkook appeared with Jophiel beside him. He was already pale before his eyes found you, as if some part of him had known what he was about to walk into.
Then both Jungkook and Jophiel saw the knife at your throat at the same time. Jophiel gasped when he saw the state you were in, and he let out a horrified sound.
But Jungkook said nothing. And his eyes weren’t on Seokjin, or Eris, or the knife Eris was holding against your throat. Jungkook’s eyes went straight to yours.
Jungkook only looked at you and you were looking back at him.
You tried to tell Jungkook not to do anything reckless with your eyes because your mouth couldn’t do it, not with the blade touching your throat and not with Eris waiting for even the smallest reason to kill you.
You have seen Jungkook angry before. You’ve even seen annoyed, cold, cruel, and bored Jungkook. You have even seen him feeling new emotions he has never felt before, though he would probably tear the world apart before admitting that ever happened.
This, the Jungkook in front of you was not any of those things.
Jungkook’s gaze moved all over you; from your face, neck, the way, the knife, your broken arm, the blood drying against your clothes, and the bruises all over your face. Jungkook saw all of it in pieces, and with each piece something inside him seemed to stop working.
Seokjin smiled at his brother, “There you are, brother,” he said with a sense of satisfaction, but Jungkook didn’t answer him.
Seokjin tilted his head, the smile staying in place. “No greeting? After all this effort?”
Still, Jungkook said nothing. He was only staring at you, and somewhere behind the way he was staring at you, something was breaking open.
Jungkook knew and understood rage, hunger, pride, violence. But this thing he felt in his chest wasn’t anything he understood. It felt heavy and unfamiliar, pulling down everything in him until his throat tightened in a way that had nothing to do with injury. His chest hurt, but not like a wound or anything he could reach into himself and rip out.
He looked at you and understood, suddenly and horribly, that this was not only fear. This was sadness. The weight of seeing someone he cares about being hurt. The pain of being too late while still standing close enough to see what being too late had cost him.
“Eris,” Jophiel said, “release her.”
Eris didn’t even turn to look at Jophiel, “Never,” she answered. Eris pressed the knife a little closer to your throat, and you felt your skin split under the point of it, just a tiny sting at first, followed by a thin warm line of blood sliding down your neck.
Jungkook saw it, and his whole body went still. He only had one option, because if he as much move an inch or try to fight her, Eris would definitely kill you.
Jophiel took a good look at his old friend and that’s when he saw one single tear slipping down Jungkook’s face while he stood there staring at you, as if the whole war, the whole citadel, the whole cursed world of Kratos had narrowed into the thin edge of a blade against your throat.
For a second, Jophiel forgot how everything that was happening in this cave was real and not a dream. That was how taken aback Jophiel was by the tear on Jungkook’s face. Because demons did not, never, cry.
But his old friend, Jungkook the North Kratos Demon prince, was standing here with one tear on his face, his hands curled at his sides like he was holding himself back from tearing the cave apart, and the sight of it was so wrong that even Seokjin’s smile started to fade.
Then Jungkook dropped to his knees. The sound of his armor hitting the ground made out of stone echoed through the cave, and the moment he dropped to his knees, no one moved or breathed.
Before he lowered himself to his knees, Jungkook felt his body jerked as though something inside him tried to throw himself forward instead. He wanted to fight. He wanted to kill Eris. His claws even came out, prepared to fight. But he knew the consequences if he even moved closer to you. The ground beneath his feet made a sound when he forced himself to stay where he was.
Seokjin's satisfaction of his plan working out perfectly drained from his face like even he had not imagined his brother would do this.
Eris froze, with her fingers still tangled in your hair, the knife still at your throat, but her smile disappeared as she stared down at Jungkook kneeling in front of her.
You did not understand it either. Jungkook had always seemed too large for ordinary things. Too dangerous and too proud. Even when he was gentle with you, there was always something in him that felt like it belonged to something so different from you.
But seeing him, the Demon, kneeling for you, your own eyes were filled with your tears so fast you couldn’t stop it.
“Let her go,” Jungkook said quietly and out of desperation. Jungkook was still on his knees in front of Eris.
Eris stared at him like she didn’t understand what she was seeing, like the version of Jungkook she kept in her mind for centuries was shattered in front of her and left behind someone she could not recognize, “You are asking me?” Eris asked, confused.
Jungkook was trembling in fear and sadness, “Please,” he begged.
You couldn’t stop the tears then, they slipped down on your face while you tried so hard not to move. You couldn’t sob or shake. You couldn’t do anything that might push your neck closer to the blade, so you cried quietly, small and pathetic tears you couldn’t wipe away while Jungkook stayed on his knees in front of you.
Jungkook saw those tears too.
You saw the way Jungkook’s eyes moved over your tears like they hurt him more than any injuries he has suffered, and you hated it, hated that he was seeing you like this, hated that you were seeing him like this, hated that the last thing Eris might manage to take away from him is you.
“Eris,” Jungkook said again, begging, “please. I will do anything, let ____ go.”
Jungkook leaned forward slightly, still on his knees, and the stone under his claws scraped as he forced himself not to move too fast, “Take me,” he said, and the words made your whole body go cold.
“If I am what you wanted, then take me. I’ll go with you. I’ll stay with you. I’ll let Seokjin have the North, I’ll let him have the throne, I’ll let him carve my name out of every wall in that citadel if that is what it takes. Just move the knife away from her, please”
Seokjin’s face hardened, but even he did not dare to interrupt.
You wanted to scream.
You wanted to tell Jungkook to stop, to get up, to not offer himself like that, to not hand them pieces of himself just because your body was the one tied to a rock. You did not want to live this life in Hell without Jungkook around. You did not want to live a long life knowing Jungkook is with some crazy and obsessed Demon woman.
But the blade was still at your throat, and all you could do was stare at him through the tears blurring your vision.
“Jungkook,” you tried to say, but the sound barely came out.
Jungkook’s eyes snapped back to you immediately, and the expression on his face broke something inside your chest. He looked at you like your voice alone had hurt him, like hearing you try to speak through pain was worse than any war he has ever endured.
“Don’t talk,” Jungkook commanded to you, so gently it almost broke you, “just look at me. Just stay with me, little teacher.”
Jungkook’s hands twitched like some part of him was still fighting to move forward, to act, to do something other than kneel and beg. The struggle was written all over him. The war between what he wanted to do and what he needed to do to save you was playing out in every tremor and every moment he chose stillness over action.
You couldn’t see Eris’s face, but you could feel her expression changing from the way the air changed around her. At first, you thought she was moved by the gesture Jungkook did. For one stupid second, you thought seeing Jungkook like that might reach whatever part of Eris that once loved him, or wanted him.
But then you realised the change in the air was far from that. Eris did not see his pain as proof that Jungkook cared about something, she saw it as proof that you had taken something from her.
You had made Jungkook feel this, you made him kneel.
You made Jungkook, the demon Eris has wanted for centuries, begged in front of his brother, in front of an angel, in front of you.
Eris’s mouth trembled with hatred, “No,” she whispered.
Jungkook’s eyes finally turned to look at her, “Eris.”
“No,” Eris said again, her voice rising, “No! you don’t get to look at her like that. You don’t get to come here, kneel there, and beg for her like she’s the one who waited for centuries for you. You do not get to look at her like she’s the one who remembered you all these years, like she’s the one who loved you when no one else did.”
The knife pressed harder against your skin, and you made the smallest sound before you could stop yourself.
Jungkook moved forward an inch before stopping himself so violently that his claws dragged across the stone, “Don’t,” Jungkook said, and his voice cracked in a way that made Jophiel close his eyes for a second.
“Don’t hurt her. I’m here. I’m looking at you now. Isn’t that what you wanted?” Jungkook asked Eris.
Eris laughed at the scene in front of her, “You’re looking at me because I have a knife against her throat.”
“Yes,” Jungkook replied, “and if you move it away, I will keep looking at you. I swear it. I will do whatever you want, Eris. I will walk out with you. I will not fight you. I will not touch you. Just let her go.”
You had never heard him sound like that before, Jungkook has never sounded so defeated in front of you.
Eris stared at Jungkook and gave him a small smile, “You were supposed to come for me,” she said, “you were supposed to remember me. You were supposed to understand that I waited, that I loved you, that I would have burned every corner of Kratos if you had only looked at me once the way you are looking at her.”
“You are mine,” Eris barked.
“Eris,” Jungkook said so helplessly it made your chest hurt, “please. Look at me. Don’t look at her. Look at me. You want me remember? Only me. Not her.”
But Jungkook was too late, Eris was only looking at you.
“You did this,” Eris said to you.
You wanted to say no. You wanted to tell Jungkook not to blame himself, that none of this was his fault, that you were scared, but you were glad he came. You wanted to tell him you were glad you got to see him one more time, even here, even like this, even if the last thing you saw was him on his knees because of you.
Jungkook seemed to understand it anyway, because his face changed before the knife moved. His eyes widened, and he moved forward like instinct had finally broken through restraint.
But Eris was closer to you than he was.
The knife shifted with a little more pressure, and that was all it took. You heard Jungkook calling your name, and you never imagined you would hear him sounding so broken while doing so.
One moment, you were looking at Jungkook, his eyes wide with horror, at his hands reaching for you even though he was too far away.
And the next, there was nothing.
"Oops, I didn't mean to kill her," Eris said as she smiled.
Summary: After graduating university you fulfilled your dreams and became a published author. Your book did well, so well in fact, your team and fans want a sequel. The only problem is they want it to be a little more smutty and spicy and you have no idea how to accomplish that. Enter Kim Taehyung the cocky fuckboy from your past who is willing to lend a hand to a friend in need
Total Chapters: 15
Rating: 18+ Minors Do Not Interact!
Tags: A/U, friends with benefits situation, slow burn, friends to...?, cocky fuckboy Kim Taehyung, He falls first she falls harder, side Jikook, tags will be added for each chapter so keep an eye out
Authors Note: Once upon a time the amazing @gimmethatagustd inspired me to write a fic about "captain Kim Taehyung" and here we are. I combed through this fic and changed some of it from the original because there were a lot of things I actually didn't like all that much. This fic is my baby and I can't wait to share the newer (hopefully better) version with you all
Don't want to read it on tumblr? It's posted to A03 too! Link
pairing: managing partner lawyer!jungkook x rich, spoiled brat!reader
summary: you wanted jeon jungkook the moment you laid eyes on him and the fact that he had a girlfriend wasn't going to stop you.
genre: strangers/lowkey one sided enemies to lovers?? idk bec you irk him. angst, smut, fluff. infidelity au (jungkook has a girlfriend so yk you can fill in the blank :p)
total wc: 40.6k so far. (this is an ongoing series.)
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - NEW! 9 - 10 - ?
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ visuals and other media:
mb #1 + mb #2 + playlist + more + more +
NEW! the characters' instagrams: #1 + #2 + #3
note: every chapter has its own list of warnings, but in general, it isn't anything extreme so far. emotional and physical cheating is a big part of this story though.
this is an ongoing series. i don't know how long it'll continue for.
also the moodboards (mb) are cute, you should go look!
Genre: fantasy!au, demon!au, haunted apartment, horror (its not too bad bc im a coward guys), slow burn, forced proximity, supernatural romance, angst.
Summary: Jungkook is trapped in an attic, cursed to win affection from those who fear him most. Every tenant has fled until you move in. With your budget and patience on the line, you refuse to leave. Now you’re stuck sharing a space with a creature no priest, shaman, or exorcist can get rid of, and neither of you can escape.
Warnings: supernatural/fantasy themes, mentions of blood and physical attacks, mild language.
Word count: 11k
a/n: i am back and sorry for being a day late!! but it's here! and this chapter is something.. i dont know how you guys would feel about it.. but its something.. sigh brace yourself for the anticipatory grief (just kidding yall you know ily 🤍). also i completely lost track of who asked to be added to the taglist, if i missed you, please leave a comment so i can make sure you're tagged in the next chapter. thank you 🤍
check out my: masterlist | banner creds to: vzzartt
The King then turned a page of the document in front of him, "What training have you been giving the soldiers?" The King asked.
"Extended drills across all battalions," Jungkook answered, "combat formations, endurance rotations, and I have been running the senior units through close-range fights twice daily."
The King nodded slowly, "And their condition?"
"Better than when I left," Jungkook replied.
"Good," The King said, setting down the document in his hand to look into the eyes of his most favored son, "I want you to prepare for war."
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
"How soon?" Jungkook asked, he wasn't surprised. If anything it was expected. Seokjin wouldn't go down without a fight that was just the Jeon in him.
"Soon enough that wasting time is no longer an option," the King replied. Jungkook’s father leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across the documents in front of him. The King has never once in Jungkook's memory appeared to be rattled by anything, which was in its own kind of unsettling and even with what he said next, The King was completely unbothered by it, "Seokjin has been building something on the border territory between the North and the South."
"I know," Jungkook responded, "Woojin has been tracking his movements since we returned. We also have one of our own Demons positioned near their camp."
"And?" The King asked.
"The Demon is too low in rank to be given any real information on what is happening there," Jungkook said, "he can confirm the camp exists and that Seokjin has followers, but nothing beyond that."
The King nodded slowly, "I suspect he has support from outside the North."
Jungkook thought about it for a moment, before finally asking, "Do you think it could be the Lee?"
The King laughed at his son’s response, "That," The King said, "is exactly why I have always wanted you to take over from me."
Jungkook said nothing to that, and just nodded his head at his father.
"Yes," The King continued, his expression settling back into his usual composure, "that is what I suspected as well, but their involvement has been difficult to verify. I have not sensed their energy crossing into the North ground. They seem to be careful enough to keep every communication on their own side of the territorial line, which means my sight does not cut cleanly through it."
"So you cannot confirm it," Jungkook said.
"I cannot confirm the full picture of what Seokjin is planning," The King agreed, "but I am old enough to know certain things without needing to see them directly. The Lee has always wanted northern border territory. They have wanted it for generations but never had a clean enough opportunity to take it. An alliance with the Jeon's first-born prince in exchange for an army is exactly the kind of arrangement the Lee would not refuse."
"Seokjin has always been better at reading what other citadels want than at reading what his own citadel needs," The King added, "it is one of his strengths but also the reason he will never be a good king."
Jungkook looked at his father, then sighed before telling him his opinion, "Seokjin will try to kill the both of us. He cannot hold the North throne with either of us alive."
"No," The King simply agreed with his youngest son, "he cannot."
There was silence for a few seconds before Jungkook shared confusedly, "I just cannot seem to understand why he took _____ to Kratos"
The King looked at his son and smiled before answering, "To check how far you will go for her. Seokjin has always understood you better than you liked to believe," The King continued, "he attacks the thing most likely to make you react without thinking. He took the human girl because he knew you would feel it more than you would feel a blade."
Jungkook said nothing to that because what was he supposed to say, really?
"Was he wrong?" The King asked quietly.
Jungkook looked away from his father for the first time since entering the study, his gaze moving to the window and the red sky beyond it.
The King did not pressure Jungkook to answer, because the silence was enough of an answer for him.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You woke up sore, which reminded you immediately of the night you spent with Jungkook. You laid still for a moment, blushing at the thought of Jungkook's body above yours, and you just stared at the too-high ceiling of the North tower room.
You turned your head slowly to the other side of the bed, already knowing that you would find an empty bed. Jungkook came and he left, and you were not sure yet whether that bothered you or whether you were relieved by it.
You pressed your face into the pillow for a few seconds before pushing yourself upright.
You swung your legs off the bed and stood up slowly, then you walked towards the bathroom, washed your face, and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes still caught you off guard sometimes, the black with the deep red lines threading through it. Your horns stopped surprising you somewhere around the end of the second week, which felt like its own small milestone. You looked at them now and accepted that they were yours, even if you didn’t choose to be this.
You turned away from the mirror before your head started overthinking.
On the stool near the door, there was a new set of clothes. You noticed it immediately because it wasn’t there when you fell asleep, which meant Woojin came in at some point and left them there without waking you up. There were leather trousers with a sleeveless leather top. Exactly the kind of thing every other Demon woman in this citadel seemed to wear.
You picked up the top and held it out for a second, took one good look at it before getting dressed.
The past two weeks have been less depressing than the first one. You thought about that as you prepared yourself to get out. The first week was the worst of it, the grief sitting so heavily that even getting out of bed felt like hell, which was funny because you are in hell.
But somewhere in the second week, things have changed slowly.
Jophiel has a lot to do with that. He came every day without fail, brought books and even a tub of Baskin Robbins, and he sat with you every day just to talk. Jophiel never pushed you to accept things as they are. He just shows up, which turned out to be the most useful thing anyone could have done for you.
Woojin had something to do with it too, even though he was probably forced by his “master”. He never said anything, he never asked how you were feeling, and he would probably rather live in Heaven than admit he developed any fondness for you. But he brought food every day, he stayed when you asked him to, and he answered your questions about anything you wanted to know. Coming from Woojin, that was basically a declaration of friendship.
And Jungkook.
Jungkook was trying. You could see it, even when sometimes it came out wrong, even when he said things in ways that didn’t comfort you at all. Jungkook was trying in the only way he knew how, which was infuriating. But the night Jungkook finally came into your room and lowered himself to his knees in front of you, it changed the dynamics between the two of you. You are still angry at him. But you were also, quietly and against your better judgment, glad Jungkook was here.
You smiled at the thought of Jungkook as you opened the door and headed downstairs.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Ymir was already at the overlook when you arrived, sitting on the same stone bench where you first met her, one leg crossed over the other, looking out at the valley below. She turned her head when she heard your footsteps and her face lit up with the same wide smile she gave you yesterday, "You came!" Ymir greeted excitedly.
"I said I would," you smiled as you sat down beside her.
"Demons say things and then don't do them constantly," Ymir said, standing up and stretching her arms above her head, wings spreading slightly behind her, "it is practically an instinct for a Demon to not do what they said they would do. So yes, I am happy you came."
You smiled at her and looked out at the valley for a second, "So," you said, "where are we going?"
Ymir smiled and gestured for you to follow her, "Down."
The path from the citadel to the lower districts was longer than it looked from above.
"The citadel sits at the highest point," Ymir said, gesturing to the citadel without looking back, "everything below it is arranged in layers. The closer to the citadel walls, the higher the rank of the Demon living there. The further out you go, the more ordinary everything becomes."
"Ordinary?" you asked curiously, following her down the steps.
"Yes, in the districts furthest from the walls, Demons are not thinking about citadel politics, war, or territory disputes, they think about their daily lives and living it," Ymir answered.
You listened as the steps leveled out and you finally stepped on the street in the town below the citadel.
And the town was surprising, to say the least.
You built an image in your head of what the area below the citadel would look like, dark with the same stone as everything else in the North citadel. And the same exact stone was there, yes, but the streets were alive in a way you did not expect. Demons walked through the streets in clusters and some alone, some carrying things, some talking in doorways, and some sitting outside of shops.
"There are markets here," you said, surprised at the view in front of you.
"Of course," Ymir said, coming closer to stand beside you, "what did you expect?"
"I don't know," you admitted, "I think I expected everything in Kratos to look like the citadel, like it was built to prepare for war and nothing else."
Ymir laughed, genuinely amused at you, "The towns were built because Demons still need to converse, eat, trade, and have something to do that is not fighting."
She started walking again and you followed beside her.
The buildings along the streets were made from the same dark stone as everything else, but they weren’t all the same. Some were low and wide, and they were packed with things being sold or traded. Others were taller and narrower, probably homes, you thought to yourself.
"What are they trading?" you asked, looking at the nearest building.
Ymir followed your gaze, "Weapons, mostly or components for armour, blades, and materials for strengthening them. The North is first and foremost a military territory, so that’s where most of the economy starts."
“Are all the shops like this further down?” you asked again.
“Further down it gets more varied,” Ymir replied, “food, building materials, repair supplies, cloth, medicine, tools, basically the kind of things any place needs to keep running.”
"Demons get sick?" you wondered out loud.
"Not often," Ymir laughed, "and rarely, but yes, there are injuries, particularly from training and conflict, and there are conditions that affect Demons that require treatment. That's why there are healers in every district."
You looked at a Demon walking through the street ahead, balancing a wide flat container on one arm. The smell hit you a second later, it smelled rich and heavy in a way you couldn’t name. Your new Demon senses recognised it as food before your brain even caught up.
"Do Demons cook?" you asked.
"Yes," Ymir said, "but Demons do not require food the way humans do, hunger is not the same thing here. But we feel pleasure in eating and there is a culture built around it. Certain foods are associated with certain districts, occasions, and even ranks."
"So food has status attached to it," you mumbled.
"Everything in Kratos has status attached to it," Ymir replied, "but in the lower districts it is less rigid. Down here, food is more about tradition and community than hierarchy."
Ymir led you around a corner, and the street opened up into something similar to a city square in human terms, with buildings on every side and a group of Demons gathered near the middle.
You stopped walking when you noticed three Demons were playing some kind of instrument in the city square. The instruments were nothing you have ever seen before, one was a stringed instrument larger than a cello, another was a percussion instrument made from what appeared to be dark stone bowls of varying sizes, and the third Demon was singing.
The sound was nothing like anything you have heard on earth. It was a sound so slow and deep.
"I didn't know that there were instruments here," you said, "I don't know why I didn't expect it. I think I assumed Kratos was just," you gestured vaguely at the citadel behind you, "that."
"Kratos is many things," Ymir replied.
“What are they singing about?” you asked.
“That song is really old,” Ymir answered, “it’s about how the North was founded. The first Jeon claiming the territory, and what it cost him.”
“Is it a celebration?” you asked, wondering if this was their version of an independence day song.
“Not exactly,” Ymir said, “celebration means joy, and the founding of the Jeon citadel wasn’t exactly joyful, it was more the need to survive.”
You looked at her, “That’s a very dark way to think about history.”
“It’s a North Kratos way of thinking about it,” Ymir replied, “the other citadels celebrate their foundings. The Min have festivals, the Kim have ceremonies, and the Lee have parades with their whole army. The North remembers what it costs them to get here.”
With that in mind, the music made more sense to you than it probably would have before, and as Ymir started walking again, you followed her.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
The next street ran along the edge of what Ymir called the artisan district, “This is where the makers are,” she said.
The buildings here looked different from the ones near the square. They were wider, with higher ceilings, and a lot of them were open on one side. You slowed down at almost every single one, looking in curiously.
In the first one, a Demon was working with metal. It didn’t look like she was making a weapon, but she seemed to be shaping something smaller and more detailed. Her hands moved carefully, pressing and turning a piece of dark metal until it slowly started to take shape.
"Armour fittings," Ymir said, before you could ask her what the Demon woman was doing, "she is shaping the smaller components that hold the larger pieces together, they matter as much as your weapons."
“Is that their job?” you asked, “making armour fittings?”
“Yes,” Ymir answered, “in the North, most demons have a role in keeping the citadel running. Soldiers are the most obvious, but they’re not actually the majority. For every soldier, there are several demons doing the work behind them. Makers, builders, healers, traders, and administrators in the upper districts who handle the logistics of a territory this size.”
"Administrators," you repeated in surprise, "Demons do administrative work?"
"Someone has to manage the supply lines," Ymir said, almost amused at your surprise, "someone has to track the food stores, weapon inventories, movement of soldiers between posts. Someone has to ensure the lower districts have what they need to function. becasue war requires organisation as much as it requires strength.”
You thought about what Ymir said as you passed the next building where you saw two Demons working on what looked like cloth.
"So…. there's a whole economy here," you said, "a whole society."
"Of course there is," Ymir laughed, "did you think Demons just fought and slept?"
"Honestly," you shyly admitted, "yes.."
Ymir laughed again, "That is the impression the citadel gives, I know. But the citadel is designed to give that impression. It is designed to look like a fortress, kingdom, and nothing more."
You passed a building that was clearly residential, and you could hear children’s voices coming from somewhere behind the stone walls, which made you stop walking.
Ymir stopped beside you, “Young ones,” she explained, before you could ask.
“Demon children,” you said.
“The North does not have many,” Ymir said, “but they exist. Mostly in the lower districts. Soldiers in the upper barracks rarely have young ones, that life is not suited for it. But the makers, traders, and healers in the districts sometimes do.”
You looked away from the house, “What about schools?” you asked, keeping your voice steady even when you couldn’t help but feel sadness rushing in, “do they have education here?”
"Not in the way you mean," Ymir said, starting to walk again, "Demon children learn from their families first or from the Demons around them. There is no formal schooling, knowledge in the North is passed directly, teacher to apprentice for specific skills, parent to child for the rest. The older a Demon gets, the more they absorb from their territory, even the way young ones learn is partly instinct and partly that absorption. A Demon born in the North does not need to be taught that their home is freezing cold and that they need to quickly adapt to survive, it just knows it."
"And a Demon who was born a human?" you asked quietly.
Ymir went quiet for a moment, "That," she answered carefully, "is something I do not have a full answer to. I do not think any other Demon does."
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
The furthest district from the citadel walls was the oldest part of the lower town.
You noticed the difference in the buildings right away. The stone here was rougher, and the structures weren’t as uniform as the ones closer to the citadel. The streets were quieter too, and most of the Demons walking through them looked older than the ones you’ve seen in the upper districts.
"The founding families settled here first," Ymir explained, "before the citadel was built above them. Before the Jeon established the upper territory as their seat of power, this was where the North began."
"Some of these structures predate the citadel?" you asked.
"Some of them predate almost everything still standing in Kratos," Ymir said.
You walked back through the districts slower than before, taking a different route this time, walking through a section Ymir called the lower market, which was pretty much exactly what it sounded like.
The smells here were different from the artisan district. Richer and more mixed together. There was food you didn’t have names for along with materials and other things your new Demon senses could somehow tell apart, even if your human brain was still trying to figure out what it was.
"What do Demons use for currency?" you asked curiously.
"Depends on the district," Ymir answered, "in the upper districts, influence and rank are the primary currencies. A favour from a senior soldier is worth more than almost any material exchange. In the lower districts, they primarily trade, materials exchanged for materials, skills exchanged for goods."
"Is there no concept of money or coins in Kratos?"
"There are tokens," Ymir smiled at you.
A regular Demon probably wouldn’t be able to answer your questions, but Ymir did and luckily, you had no way of knowing what most Demons did or didn’t know.
Ymir, or Eris, was a Kim after all. Her kind knew more than most.
"The North uses tokens for exchange when direct trade is impractical. Most demons here have been in the same district their entire lives, which means they know their neighbours well enough to trade on trust," Ymir continued.
"Does that ever go wrong?" you asked.
"Constantly," Ymir said, which made you laugh.
You stopped at one of the stalls, drawn by a smell you could not identify.
The Demon behind the stall looked at you, reading you the way every Demon in the North read you when they first saw you. There was a pause in which you braced for the familiar hostility for. Then the Demon reached over and set a small piece of something dark and dense on the surface in front of you, "Try it," he simply said.
You looked at Ymir, who gave you a small nod, then you picked it up and put it in your mouth.
It was unlike anything you have eaten before. Rich and slightly bitter, and your eyes widened involuntarily. The Demon behind the stall watched your face with the satisfied expression of someone who already knew what reaction they were going to get.
"What is it?" you asked.
"Fermented night root," he said, "harvested from the deep stone. It takes two hundred years to prepare properly."
"Two hundred years," you repeated.
"Patience is not difficult when you have enough of it," he said, shrugging his shoulders, and went back to his work.
You stood at the stall still surprised at what you just ate, then looked at Ymir, "That was the best thing I have eaten since arriving here."
"His family has been making it for as long as anyone can remember," Ymir said, as she began to walk again, "he considers the two hundred year fermentation the short version."
You glanced back once at the stall, and the Demon was already focused on something else entirely, unbothered and absorbed in work that has clearly been his entire life and would continue to be his entire life for longer than you can fully imagine.
You thought about Jophiel saying that time not running out might eventually feel freeing, you were not there yet. But walking through the lower district of North Kratos, eating something a Demon spent two hundred years preparing, you thought that maybe you understood, just slightly, what Jophiel meant.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
By the time you and Ymir made your way back up the long path towards the citadel, the red sky darkened by a shade, which meant it was now evening in the North.
You were tired from having walked a long distance, but you thought the journey was worth the pain, "Thank you," you said to Ymir when the citadel walls came back into view above you.
Ymir glanced back at you, "For what?"
"For today," you said, "for showing me that this place is more than what it looks like from up there."
"It is easy to only see the citadel," Ymir answered, "especially if the citadel is the only thing that has interacted with you since you arrived."
"Is that why you came to find me? Because you thought the citadel was the only thing I had seen?" you asked.
Ymir smiled at you, "I came because you looked like someone who needed a friend," she said, "and because I was curious about you."
"Curious how?" you asked.
"Curious about someone who talked back to senior soldiers on their first day," Ymir answered, "most Demons who were born here would have kept their heads down, but you did not."
"I was furious," you said.
"I know," Ymir replied.
You looked at Ymir, the Demon woman who appeared on a stone bench beside you, and offered you the first kindness you were given in the North. You felt the suspicion you have been holding since yesterday ease slightly.
"Same time tomorrow?" Ymir asked.
You thought about Jungkook's warning the night before, and then you thought about the lower districts, and the Demon who spent two hundred years on something worth sharing even with a human-Demon.
"Same time tomorrow," you answered, smiling at Ymir.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You came back to your room that evening with a head full of everything you just saw in the lower districts. The music in the square, the fermented night root, everything. You sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off your boots, then set them neatly by the door out of habit you were used to on earth, and then just sat back on the edge of the bed.
It was actually a good day.
You were still sitting there when you felt the change in the air that meant Jungkook was walking towards your room.
Jungkook knocked on your door, and you appreciated it more than you had expected to, "Come in," you said.
Jungkook walked across the room without speaking and sat on the couch right across your bed, placing his arm along the back of it, "How was it?" he asked.
"Good," you answered, and then, because the day was genuinely a good day, you wanted to talk about it more, "better than good, actually. I didn't expect what I saw. Ymir explained all of the things we walked past, which was really helpful.”
Jungkook's jaw tightened slightly at the mention of her name, but he said nothing about it. You also noticed how his demeanour changed but chose not to address it.
You looked at him across the room, and thought about how strange it was that this was your life now. Sitting in a room in a Demon citadel with the Demon who had, depending on your mood and the time of day, ruined your life and saved it.
"Come here," you said, pointing at the spot next to you on the bed.
Jungkook looked at you for a few seconds, like he couldn’t believe his ears, before moving from the couch to the bed without any argument, sitting beside you with enough space between you. You leaned back against the headboard and looked at the ceiling.
"Can I ask you something?" you said.
Jungkook didn't say anything and just looked at you from the side, waiting for your question.
"When you were in the studio," you said cautiously, "all those centuries, what did you think about?"
Jungkook was quiet for long enough that you thought he might not answer, "Kratos, at first," he said, "the citadel, my father, the politics of what I left behind. I spent a long time running through scenarios; what Seokjin would do, what the court would do, whether my father would intervene."
"And then?" you asked.
"And then I ran out of scenarios to think about," he said, "there are only so many possibilities of a situation you can work through before you have exhausted all of them. After that there was just the room."
"That sounds unbearable," you said.
"It was," Jungkook answered "for a long time it was.”
"What were they like?" you asked, "the other tenants before me."
"Afraid," he said, "all of them were afraid in different ways, some loudly and some quietly. But the fear was constant. You were afraid too," he chuckled, "but you were also annoyed and fiery, which was new."
You let out a small giggle, "I was extremely annoyed."
"Yes," he agreed, "it was interesting though.”
"I'm still annoyed at you," you said, which was true, but it also did not stop you from leaning into his shoulder.
"I know," Jungkook said.
"I'm going to continue being annoyed at you," you added.
"I know that too," he said.
Jungkook turned his head toward you slowly, his gaze dropped from your eyes to your mouth and back to your eyes again.
His fingers gently lifted your chin, moving your face toward his and you let him.
The next second, you felt his lips pressed against yours softly, like he was almost too careful, it was as if Jungkook was aware of how fragile the moment was.
You felt his thumb move along your jaw, the familiar cold of his skin against yours that no longer startled you the way it once did.
When he pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, Jungkook gave you a small smile. You looked back at him in the dim light of the North tower room, at the curve of his horns and the dark red lines threading through his eyes.
Then, Jungkook kissed you again, even slower this time.
And you let yourself stop thinking entirely.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Jungkook was already gone when you woke up, which was normal, but this time there was something different about his absence. You sat up slowly on the bed, and noticed a piece of dark paper on the couch across from the bed, which wasn’t there last night.
You crossed the room and picked it up.
The writing on it was not like any script you have seen on earth, but your demon senses read it without effort, which you were still getting used to.
“War preparations begin today. I will not be available for the next few days. Stay inside the citadel walls if you can. Woojin knows where I am if you need anything.
And don’t forget to eat something.”
You read it once.
Then you read it again just to make sure.
War preparations.
You stood still in the middle of your room with the note in your hand and you were confused, angry, upset, all at once. Jungkook didn’t mention anything about a war happening, he didn’t tell you anything last night. He laid beside you last night and said almost nothing about what was actually coming.
War preparations.
As if that was a normal thing to just leave on a couch, like two words were sufficient explanation for whatever was currently pulling him away from everything else, from you.
You set the note back on the couch and stood there for another moment, feeling frustrated of caring about someone who communicated in the absolute minimum number of words required.
Then you looked at the last line again.
And don't forget to eat something.
You let out a bitter laugh.
Of course Jungkook, the Demon prince of North Kratos, is preparing for a war he did not tell you was coming, but remembered to remind you about dinner.
You were going to have a few words with him about this when he comes back to visit you, whenever that was.
you sighed when you realised that over the next few days, there would be no Jungkook or Jophiel, who mentioned the last time you saw him, that he had obligations in another realm that would keep him away for at least one week. And Woojin would rather remove one of his own horns than have an unprompted conversation with you.
So, you got dressed and went to find Ymir.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Ymir was where you expected her to be, at the overlook, sitting on the stone bench. She looked up at you when she heard your footsteps, "I heard the prince has locked himself in the war rooms," she said.
"He left me a note," you said, sitting down beside her.
"How romantic," Ymir said, and her tone was flat and unamused, but you shrugged it off. Maybe Demons just don’t care about romance.
Ymir tilted her head at you before asking, "How much time do you have today?"
"All of it," you said, "apparently."
She stood up from the bench, stretched her wings briefly behind her, and said, "Then we're going to the ridge."
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
The eastern ridge was further than anywhere you have been in Kratos. Well, it wasn’t like you’ve been traveling much here, but today was another first.
You left the lower districts behind and followed a path that ran along the citadel’s outer wall before turning east. It took around an hour by foot, and the ground here was uneven, with dark stone forming in sharp angles and casting long shadows under the red sky.
"This is border territory," you said, after you have been walking for a while, not knowing how you knew this information, but it’s probably your Demon senses again.
"Mhmm," Ymir nodded and confirmed, "we are still well within the North. The actual border is another hour's walk east. But this is where the territory starts to change."
You followed her up the ridge until the path evened out into a wide and flat stretch of rock. From there, the view looked completely different from anything you’ve seen in the citadel or the lower districts. You could see the North spreading out in every direction. The citadel and the lower districts gathered below it and towns and smaller fortresses farther out.
“I’ve never seen it like this,” you said as you sat down beside Ymir, and looked out over the territory.
“Tell me about the smaller fortresses,” you said, pointing toward the structures in the distance, “what exactly are they?”
"Garrison posts," Ymir said, "each one holds a battalion of soldiers stationed permanently away from the main citadel. They are the first line of response if anything crosses the border, or if anything moves within the territory that the citadel needs to know about quickly."
"So they're like outposts," you stated.
"Yes," Ymir confirmed, "the North operates in layers. The citadel is the core, the garrison posts are the ring around it, and the border patrols are the outermost layer. Between the three, nothing moves through North Kratos without being seen."
"Even Seokjin?" you asked, before you could stop yourself. You didn't know if this was a sensitive topic to the other Demons as well. But your curiousity could not be helped.
Ymir was silent for some time, "Yes, including Seokjin," she agreed, "but he knew the system from the inside and knew exactly which layers to avoid and which ones to use."
"Were you here when he was still in the North?" you asked.
"Yes," Ymir said.
"What was he like?" you asked.
Ymir looked out at the view of the territory and sighed before answering, "Charming," she said before continuing, “he was the first prince, he had his father's ear, and he seemed interested in what the lower districts needed and then he was just gone," Ymir said, "and the lower districts realised the interest he had has always been a strategy rather than genuine concern."
"Ymir," you called out.
"Yes," she answered.
"Why are you kind to me?" you asked. You know you’ve asked her a similar question before, but you wanted the reassurance that she wasn’t some Demon who would eventually betray you.
Ymir looked into your eyes, "Because I know what it is to not belong somewhere and still have no other option," she said, "my family has served the Jeon for three generations. My grandmother served the King before Jungkook's father, and now my mother and I. I was born into the North, it is the only territory I have ever known, and still there are Demons in the upper citadel who would look at me and see a lower district soldier and nothing more."
"So you understand what it is like to be dismissed by a place you live in," you said.
"Yes," she answered, "and I understand what it feels like to have someone decide what you are before you even have the chance to show them."
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You came back from the ridge as the red of the sky darkened, with your legs aching, and your head full of everything you saw today.
Ymir left you at the path that led back up to the citadel with a promise to meet you the same time the next day.
You ate dinner alone in your room, something Woojin left on the tray that turned out to be genuinely so fucking good, and then you sat on the windowsill with one of Jophiel's books and tried to read.
You managed to read four pages before you set the book down and sat quietly.
Somewhere inside the citadel, Jungkook was in a room somewhere you didn't know, planning, laying out the pieces of something that would determine whether the North survived what was coming, whether you and him would survive it.
Although he didn’t tell you, it was pretty easy to guess that this war probably has something to do with Seokjin. You wondered how Jungkook feels knowing he would have to kill his own brother.
You pressed your back against the stone of the window frame and looked up at the red sky. You shrugged the thoughts out of you, they were useless thoughts you would not be able to figure out unless you talk to Jungkook himself.
So you picked up the book again and read until you fell asleep sitting up.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
The next day, Ymir took you to the healers' district.
You did not know it existed as its own district until she mentioned it on the walk down from the citadel, to see a cluster of structures in the western corner of the lower town.
"The healers are separate from the rest," Ymir explained as you walked next to her, “the healers in the North figured that healing work needed a kind of silence the lower districts couldn’t really give.”
The healers' district was immediately distinguishable from the rest when you finally arrived in it. The streets were wider, the buildings lower, and the noise of the town dropped off by a lot. The structures here were larger than the residential buildings in other districts, with wide doorways and high ceilings visible through the windows.
"What do Demon healers actually do?" you asked.
“They treat injuries from combat, training, or fights between demons that get out of hand. There are sicknesses too, mostly from the founding energy and how it moves through a Demon’s body. Those need a different kind of treatment and the best healers in the North have knowledge that goes back to the founding," Ymir added, "they are not soldiers but they are considered essential. A citadel without good healers loses far more battles."
You passed an open doorway and glanced inside, watching a Demon working at a wide stone table, their hands moving over something you couldn’t really see. The smell coming from the building was different from everything else in the lower districts, “Can we go in?” you asked.
Ymir hesitated for just a second, “Healers are particular about visitors,” she said, “but Okla has known me since I was young, she might not refuse.”
Okla turned out to be an older Demon, you didn’t see any physical sign of aging, because Demons did not age visibly, but it was just something in her presence that was different from the soldiers and other Demons you encountered in the citadel and the districts.
She looked at you and knew exactly who you were in one glance, "The former human," Okla said.
"Yes," you said.
"Hm," Okla replied, and she just went back to what she was doing.
"What is she making?" you whispered to Ymir.
"Something for energy disruption," Ymir said quietly, "it is used when a Demon has taken damage to their founding energy connection, it is delicate work."
You watched Okla work without speaking, and she seemed unbothered by the observation. Her hands moved with the same precision you saw in the artisan district. After a few minutes Okla looked up from the containers and looked at you directly, "You are carrying a disruption," she said.
You blinked, "What?"
"Your energy," she said, "the human and the Demon energies are still fighting it each other quietly. It is not unusual for a new transformation, but yours has been extended by the circumstances of how it happened. The result is that the two parts of what you are have been working against each other rather than with each other."
"Is that dangerous?" you asked.
"Not immediately," she said, "but it will cause you difficulty over time if it remains unaddressed, such as fatigue, difficulty controlling the traits, and heightened emotional response."
"I have heightened emotional response already," you chuckled.
"More than you have now," Okla flatly replied.
You looked at Ymir, then back at Okla, "Can you fix it?"
"I can help it settle and quiet down quicker," she said, "it will take several sessions and it will not be comfortable, but yes."
"Okay," you answered, "when can we start?"
Okla looked at you, "Tomorrow," she said, "come back in the morning."
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You and Ymir ate in the lower districts that afternoon, sitting outside one of the food stalls with things you could not name and found yourself eating enthusiastically anyway, which Ymir found amusing.
"You eat like someone who is still surprised food exists here," she said.
"I am still surprised food exists here," you said, "I spent my first two weeks convinced that everything in Kratos was black and read and violent."
"It is mostly black and red and violent," Ymir said, "but it is also this. Ah, can I ask you something?"
"Yes," you said, nodding your head at her.
"Jungkook, what is he actually like?” Ymir asked out of nowhere.
You chewed on your food slowly, thinking about the question and how to answer it, "Honestly," you said, "he is difficult, but he is also…" you paused, "trying."
"Trying to do what?" Ymir asked.
"To be something other than what he was built to be," you said, "I think.." you added sounding unsure, "although he would absolutely deny that if I said it to his face."
Ymir stared at you, "You care about him," she stated.
You looked down at the food in front of you, "It is complicated," you said.
"Most things worth caring about are," Ymir replied.
That night you sat on the windowsill again, later than you meant to, looking at the red sky and thinking about the session with Okla tomorrow and about Ymir's question and the answer you had given her.
It is complicated.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Okla’s work was, as promised, not comfortable.
You sat in the middle of the healer’s building on a stone stool while Okla moved around you. She was precise and every movement she made was controlled. She applied the compound she has been preparing the day before to specific points along your back and shoulders. Each touch brought a strange sensation with it, it wasn’t exactly painful, but it was sharp enough that your Demon senses flinched before slowly adjusting.
"Breathe," Okla said, more than once.
You did as asked. The session lasted for two hours, and when it was over you sat very still for a moment with your eyes closed.
It felt different, your body felt different.
"Come back in two days," Okla said, already moving back to her work table.
"Thank you," you said.
She made a sound that was both acknowledgement and dismissal, and you decided to just nod at her and leave Okla to be.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You found Ymir outside waiting for you and the two of you walked back through the lower districts without any particular destination.
"She helped," you said.
"Okla always helps," Ymir replied, "she is not warm about it but she is good at it."
You walked through the artisan district, stopping at the stalls you have already been to and a few you haven’t. You got something from the food stall nearest the square, something wrapped in dark leaf that turned out to contain something sweet and intensely flavoured, and ate it while you walked. "Three days," you said, after a while.
"What about them?" Ymir asked.
"Since Jungkook got busy with the war preparations," you said, "it has been three days since I last saw him."
Ymir glanced at you, "Are you counting them?"
"No," you said, and then followed it with a shy, "maybe."
Ymir said nothing to that, which you appreciated.
"Ymir," you said.
"Yes," she answered.
"When the war comes," you said carefully, "what happens to the lower districts?"
She went quiet for a moment, "The lower districts will prepare for it," she said, "they always have. The garrison posts receive reinforcements, the healers expand their capacity, the makers will work faster. The lower districts have been through conflict before and they know what it requires."
"And the Demons in them?" you asked.
"They will continue to live. The soldiers fight for them and the districts will continue on living, because if the districts stop, then there is nothing for the citadel to protect and fight for."
"I want to help," you said, and heard the words leave your mouth before you even decided to say them out loud.
Ymir looked at you, surprised at what you just said.
"When the war comes," you said, "I want to do something. not just stay inside the citadel walls and wait. I want to be useful."
"What can you do?" Ymir asked, it was a genuine question.
“I can teach,” you said. “I can communicate, I can organise. I spent two years managing twenty-two children at once, which, honestly, is probably not that different from managing soldiers when it comes to the basic skills.”
Ymir laughed at what you said.
"I am serious," you said, though you were also smiling, "Okla said she can keep helping me," you said, "a few more sessions and she thinks the disruption can be fully settled."
"That is good," Ymir said.
"Yes," you agreed, "it is."
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
That night, Woojin knocked on your door. You were expecting a food tray, but he was not carrying one. He stood in the doorway with his arms loose at his sides, "Master Jungkook will be available tomorrow," Woojin said.
"Is he alright?" you asked.
"He is tired," Woojin said, "the war preparations are extensive and he has not slept in three days."
"Woojin," you said.
"Yes," he answered.
"Make sure he eats something," you said, "he left me a note about eating and then clearly did not take his own advice."
Woojin looked at you for a moment, he wondered if you knew that Jungkook had gone months without eating and sleeping before, simply because he was powerful enough to do it.
"I will convey the message," Woojin said just to conclude the conversation.
"Thank you," you muttered.
He turned to leave, then stopped, and turned back to look at you, which was unusual enough. "You went to the lower districts," Woojin said, tilting his head at you, "to see Okla."
You were pretty surprised that Woojin knew this.
"She is good," Woojin added, "if she says she can help you settle the disruption, she will."
“Woojin,” you said, “are you checking on me? or stalking me?”
His jaw tightened slightly, "I am conveying relevant information," he said.
"Of course," you said.
And with that, Woojin left.
Jungkook had told you someone would be following you and Ymir, but you hadn’t noticed anyone, not even once. So realising Woojin knowing exactly where you have been, and what you have done, caught you off guard.
Whoever the Demon they have assigned to follow you around, must be one good secret agent.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Woojin had been gone for less than an hour when you heard the footsteps in the corridor.
You recognised the pace of the footsteps that you have learned over weeks of listening to them, and you sat up straighter on the windowsill where you have been reading.
Jungkook knocked on the door twice.
"Come in," you said, already setting the book down.
Jungkook opened the door and stepped inside, and you looked at him before saying, "I thought you would be here tomorrow."
He walked across the room without answering immediately, and then he did something that surprised you. Jungkook sat down on the bed, swung his legs up, and laid back against the pillow with his wings folding close behind him and his eyes on the ceiling.
Then Jungkook said, "I missed you."
You stayed on the windowsill for a moment, looking at him laid out on your bed and felt the familiar mix of irritation and warmth, which has basically become the entire experience of knowing Jungkook.
You moved from the windowsill and sat on the edge of the bed beside him, "Woojin said you haven't slept in three days," you said.
"Woojin talks too much," he replied, still looking at the ceiling.
"Woojin is the only reason I know anything that is happening in this citadel," you said, "since apparently you communicate exclusively through notes that contain the minimum possible information."
Jungkook turned his head to look at you, "How were the past three days?" he asked.
You sighed before telling him about the ridge, the view from the flat rock at the top, about Okla and the healer's district, and the two parts of you slowly learning to cooperate.
Jungkook listened to all of it without interrupting, his eyes fixed on your face. When you finished, you looked at him directly into his eyes and confronted him, "You didn't tell me about the war."
Something changed in his expression, "You don't need to concern yourself with it," he said.
"I live here," you said.
"I know," he replied.
"I live here," you repeated slowly, "which means whatever happens to this citadel and to the North Kratos happens to me as well. I am not a visitor, Jungkook. I am not someone you need to protect from information."
"I am not protecting you from information," Jungkook said, defending himself, "I am protecting you from unnecessary worry."
"That is the same thing," you said.
He looked at the ceiling again, and you could see him choosing his next words carefully, "The war preparations are handled," he said finally, "the strategy is in place, what you know the details of would change nothing."
"I want to help," you said.
"It is not needed," Jungkook replied.
You opened your mouth and he cut you off before you could say anything, "Not because you are incapable," Jungkook added, "because the role I need you in is not on a battlefield. Keeping yourself safe and inside the citadel walls is not nothing, it is the thing I need most so I do not have to divide my attention."
It was not the answer you wanted but it was also not an unreasonable answer, which was the kind of thing Jungkook does that makes him difficult to argue with.
"Will you at least survive it?" you asked, and your voice came out quieter than you intended, "will you come back from it?"
Jungkook turned his head towards you again, his expression changing into something almost insulted by the question you just asked. He wasn't angry at you, but the idea of losing has never once crossed his mind.
Of course Jungkook was going to win, that was written plainly across his face without him needing to open his mouth.
"I have no one here other than you and Jophiel," you said, "Woojin tolerates me, Ymir is a nice friend but she is a soldier. I’m guessing both her and Woojin will be gone too. Okla helps me because it is her work, and the rest of this citadel looks at me like I am something that should not exist. You and Jophiel are the two friends I have here. So I am asking you as the person who is going to be in this room waiting, will you come back?"
Jungkook looked at you before he reached over and pulled you down beside him, one arm wrapping around your shoulders, your back against his chest, and the coldness of his body radiating through your clothes the way it always does. Jungkook cuddling you helped your mind stop racing to things that might not even happen.
"It is Seokjin, isn't it," you said, after a moment. It came out as a statement rather than a question because you already knew the answer and had known it since the note on the couch.
Jungkook was quiet, then he nodded once, you felt the movement of his chin against the top of your head.
"Are you afraid?" you asked.
His arms tightened slightly around you, and he said, "Never."
You thought about calling him a liar. But his arms were around you and the war preparations had kept him away for three days and he had come back tonight instead of tomorrow because he missed you. So you decided that some things did not need to be talked about tonight.
"Okay," you said quietly.
You laid there in silence with Jungkook’s arm around you. “You should sleep,” you said softly, rubbing your hand over his. For once, Jungkook didn’t argue.
Somewhere between one breath and the next, with the silence of the citadel around you and the red sky still burning outside, Jungkook, the prince of North Kratos, fell asleep.
You stayed awake a little longer, staring at the ceiling. You thought about what was coming, about Seokjin somewhere beyond the citadel walls, building something you didn’t know the scale of, about Okla and the upcoming sessions, and the two parts of you still trying to exist in the same body.
And you thought about how Jungkook said “Never.”
He is a Demon prince. Jungkook is powerful enough to survive almost anything. So if he was certain he will win, then you were going to believe him.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Ymir was at the overlook when you arrived, which was where she always was, but something about her this morning was different. She was standing rather than sitting, facing away from you when you came up the path, looking out at the valley below with a posture that seemed less relaxed than her usual demeanor.
She turned around when she heard you and smiled immediately, and whatever you noticed in her posture was gone so quickly you thought you might have imagined it.
"I have something to show you today," she said, before you even reached the bench.
"Where?" you asked.
"Further than we have been," she said, "past the ridge. There is a formation I have been wanting to take you to since we started these walks, and today feels like the right day."
"How far past the ridge?" you asked curiously.
"One hour, maybe a little more," she said, "the path is clear. I have walked it many times."
"What exactly is the formation?" you asked.
“The deep stone pit,” Ymir said. “that’s where the heat under the North comes up through the ground. You can see the founding energy moving through them directly, like the actual current of the energy. It is one of the most extraordinary and beautiful things in the North, and only Demons in the North can see it.”
"Alright," you said, and hated that you said it even as the word left your mouth, because the part of you that spent months learning to trust your instincts in a haunted studio was telling you something but you were choosing not to listen to it.
You were either going to regret this choice or feel bad for not trusting Ymir, who has been nothing but nice to you.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
The path past the ridge was different from the terrain you covered in the previous three days. The lower districts fell behind quickly, and then the ridge itself, and then you were in territory that was unfamiliar, the dark rock formations taller and more densely packed than the open ground near the eastern border.
Ymir walked ahead of you, confident and unhesitant, the same way she always walked through the North, like someone who has grown up knowing every corner of it. So you followed and paid attention to her footsteps.
The sounds of the lower districts were gone. The ambient noise of the town, the movement of Demons through streets, the distant sounds of the training grounds, all of it faded into silence.
"How much further?" you asked.
"Not far," Ymir said, "another twenty minutes."
You continued to walk. The rock formations around you grew denser, their shadows longer, and the temperature dropped in a way that was different from the North's usual cold.
And then you saw it.
The ground ahead was split open into a pit, wide and hollow, maybe fifty metres across. At the centre, the founding energy moved in a way you could actually see, it was like a river of dark red veins.
It was, exactly as Ymir had said, extraordinary.
You stopped at the edge of it, looking down at the dark red threads, and for a moment everything else in your mind went silent because nothing in your experience, human or Demon, had prepared you for the sight of something like this.
"I told you," Ymir said beside you, whispering softly.
"Yes," you said, "you did."
You stood there for a long moment, just looking at it.
And then something in the air changed. It was the kind of change in atmosphere that meant a presence has arrived that was not supposed to be there. Your Demon senses registered it before your mind caught up to it.
It was something that was not you or Ymir.
It was rather some other Demon.
You turned your head slowly, and Ymir was standing two steps to your left, and she was not looking at the vents anymore, she was looking at you.
And then something happened to her face.
It was like watching a mask being removed, the wide warm smile, the curious and kind eyes, and the three days were dropping away, replaced by something entirely different.
Something colder and what your Demon senses tell you is considerably more dangerous.
Ymir’s energy changed at the same moment. The energy you read as a lower district soldier, as someone born and raised in the North with three generations of family service behind her, changed and underneath it was something else entirely.
Something that was not North energy at all.
The borrowed energy of Ymir peeled away like skin.
You stared at the demon standing in front of you, who was not Ymir, who you figured has never been Ymir, and whose white eyes were looking at you with a gaze of someone who has been waiting a very long time to be exactly where they were.
"My name," she said, and her voice was different from Ymir's now, "is Eris.”
Your heart was beating loud and fast against your chest.
"I bet," Ymir, or Eris, continued, tilting her head with a huge smile across her face, "you have heard about me, honey."
You said nothing.
Your heart was slamming against your ribs but your face was still and you were trying to keep it that way because showing Eris any emotion felt like handing her something she would use against you immediately.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You heard about her.
You remembered Jophiel who described her as intelligent, powerful, and difficult in every way. A Demon Jophiel loved, who is now currently standing three feet from you with white eyes and a smile that was not at all warm.
"Eris," you said, and you were proud of how steady your voice came out.
"There it is," she said, the smile widening slightly, "he told you about me."
"Jophiel told me about you," you said.
"Of course he did," she said, "Jophiel always was thorough. You know, your trust is easier to gain than I expected. You were so hungry for someone to be kind to you. It was almost too simple,” Eris laughed.
You put two and two together and thought of every place Ymir has taken you to, every question she answered too easily, every moment she looked at you and smiled, and suddenly it all seemed obvious.
"You did all of this," you said, "for Seokjin."
"I did all of this," Eris said, taking one step towards you, "for myself."
"You want Jungkook," you said.
"He was always mine," Eris said, "before you existed in any form that mattered. Before you were anything more than a human woman paying cheap rent. I had him and I had Jophiel and I would have kept both of them if certain beings had not interfered."
"He never desired you," you muttered.
"You," Eris said, very quietly, "are going to want to be very careful about what you say next."
"I'm already past careful," you said, "you've been lying to me for three days and you're about to take me somewhere I don't want to go. I don't think being careful is an option for me anymore. I know I will die."
Eris laughed, “At least you are smart. But I now understand why he finds you so interesting."
"That is not a compliment," you said.
"No," she agreed, "it isn't."
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You didn't think, you just moved.
Your body moved backwards, away from her, and you let your Demon energy spike outward defensively. It was instinctive, you didn’t know how that happened but it just did.
"Interesting," Eris said, tilting her head, “you're still trying."
It was the only warning you got before she crossed the space between you. You threw up your hands to block, but Eris’s speed was nothing like what your newly-turned body could process. Her fist came at your face and you barely managed to escape it.
You counterattacked without thinking, throwing a punch at her midsection. But Eris didn't even flinch, she grabbed your wrist and twisted it, the pain that shot through your arm was a solid eight out of ten.
"Weak," Eris spat out, pulling you towards her and driving her knee toward your stomach. You gasped in pain, trying to create distance, but Eris was already moving again. Her other hand came up and caught you across the face.
Your vision blurred, and you tasted blood.
"That's better," Eris said, and there was amusement in her voice, “fight back, make this worth my time."
You pushed off the ground, launching yourself at her with everything you had. Your claws extended and you didn't remember doing it consciously, but they were out, and you raked them towards her face. Eris caught your wrist easily, but this time you have momentum, you put your other hand up to claw at her arm.
"You're adorable," she said, and threw you back to the ground.
Your back slammed into one of the rock formations, hard enough that the stone cracked under the force of your body. Eris walked towards you slowly, like someone strolling through a garden rather than someone in the middle of a fight.
You tried to push yourself up, but your body wasn't responding the way you wanted. You managed to get to your hands and knees before Eris reached you. She grabbed a fistful of your hair and wrenched your head back to look at her.
"You know what the best part about all of this is?" Eris asked, her white eyes boring into yours, "you trusted me. For three days, you walked with me and you told me everything. You told me about your students, your life on earth, how lonely you were.”
She pulled your head back even further, and you clawed at her wrist, but your strength was fading, "Jungkook made you think you mattered," Eris continued, “that your presence here changed anything, that he even felt something for you beyond obligation and debt. But I knew better, I knew that you were exactly what I needed to remind Jungkook where he belongs."
"He doesn't want you," you managed to say, “he never did."
Eris's expression went rigid, if you thought she was angry before, well she was furious now. She pulled your head back and slammed it forward into the ground. The impact was painfully devastating, your vision went red, then white, then started to shatter. You felt blood running down your face.
"That mouth of yours," Eris said, pulling you up by your hair again, "is going to be a problem." then Eris hit you again and again.
At some point, the pain became almost too unbearable that you felt some kind of out of body experience, your body was clearly shutting down, your Demon senses were flickering like a dying light. You could taste blood and feel it running from your nose and your mouth.
"Please," you whispered, and you hated yourself for it, but you said it anyway, “please."
Eris leaned down close to your face, and her breath was cold against your cheek, "I'm going to keep you alive," she said softly, "I'm going to keep you alive because Jungkook needs to see what happens when he chooses someone over me. I'm going to keep you alive so he can spend the rest of his existence knowing that you suffer because of him."
She pulled back, and you saw her fist coming toward your face one more time.
In that moment before her fist touched you, the last thought that crossed your mind was Jungkook.
And then, everything went black.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Jungkook was in the middle of a combat drill with the senior battalion when The King appeared on the training grounds.
It was unusual.
The King rarely comes to the training grounds, he did not usually involve himself in the day-to-day operations of military preparation. He commanded from his tower, moved through the citadel via the upper corridors, and allowed his son to handle the grunt work of keeping the North's soldiers sharp and ready.
Yet here he was, walking across the training grounds with Woojin at his side, his presence was followe by an immediate silence. The soldiers around Jungkook stopped their drills and dropped to one knee. Jungkook straightened his posture, wiping sweat from his forehead, and watched his father approach him.
The King did not stop when he reached Jungkook. He walked until they were standing close enough that only Jungkook could hear his words.
"_____ is gone," The King whispered quietly to his son, "Eris was here."
For a moment, Jungkook didn't process what his father just said to him, "What?" Jungkook asked again.
"Eris," The King repeated with disgust, and Jungkook has never heard his father sound like this before, "The Kim demon, she was disguised in the North and she took your woman."
Jungkook's whole body went still, trying to process the information as quickly as he could, "How long has it been?" he asked his father.
"I discovered the deception around three minutes ago. I believed it just completely wore out then. They were in the deep stone, I'm guessing they would be almost out of the border by now. I have made the Eastwatch and Northpoint garrison post aware of what is happening," The King said.
Jungkook turned to look at Woojin, who met his gaze without flinching. Woojin's jaw was clenched and his tail was rigid with tension. It was the only sign that the usually controlled Demon was also affected by this.
"Seokjin," Jungkook said.
"Yes," The King confirmed, “I am guessing this was always the plan, the human was the variable. He needed you out of the North to strike and what better way than to have the thing you care about taken from you?"
Jungkook's hands clenched into fists, "Jophiel?" he asked.
"Still in his realm, but I have already sent words out," The King said, "Jungkook, I saw this coming."
Jungkook's head snapped towards his father.
"The futures where I intervened ended in the North's collapse," The King continued, “the futures where I allowed this to play out... some of them end in victory. All of them required Seokjin to kidnap ____. Now, you should take Woojin and however many soldiers you need. I will hold this citadel until you return or I will die trying."
Jungkook looked out across the training grounds, at the soldiers who stopped to watch The King and his beloved son. Then Jungkook turned around to look back at his father.
"She was supposed to be safe," Jungkook said.
"No Demon is ever safe," The King replied, “but she is yours to save or lose, choose and move wisely."
Jungkook turned around and walked away from his father and towards the armory. Behind him, he heard his father call out to the gathered soldiers, preparing the North for war.
But Jungkook's mind was already beyond the citadel walls.
Seokjin did not understand that Jungkook would burn the entire North to ashes if it meant getting you back.
And as Jungkook strapped his weapons across his body, he made himself a promise: Eris and Seokjin would beg for death before this was over.
And Jungkook would not grant them that mercy, for death would be far too easy a punishment.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Woojin stopped before he could follow Jungkook any farther, his gaze catching on the King’s expression, "You knew this would happen," Woojin said quietly to The King, “Master you knew, and you let it happen anyway."
The King did not deny it, "I saw many futures, Woojin," he said, "in all the ones where the North survives, this had to happen, the human girl had to be taken, and Jungkook needs to be in charge."
"And what if Jungkook fails?" Woojin whispered.
The King's expression did not change as he answered, "Then we will all burn together which may be exactly what the North deserves."
Synopsis: You have been Namjoon's assistant for four years but something changes the day Namjoon tells you he is going to get married.
Warnings: sexual content; unprotected sex; public sex; sexual harassment (not from Namjoon); oral sex (f. receiving)
You try your best to smile through the unpleasant glance that is set on you. You can't say it's the first time you experience it but it doesn't mean that you're used enough to simply not care. Even if it were true, you don't want to 'don't care'. When you arrived at the office and saw Mr. Choi's name on the schedule, you knew you'd have a bad day. Every single time the forty-year old man — an important partner of the firm you work in — has a meeting with your boss, Mr. Choi always finds a way to flirt with you. You keep a professional behavior but his lewd eyes and disgusting smirk are hard to deal with.
Of course, you could tell your boss but you know that this business partner is crucial for Kim Electronics. So you get a grip on yourself and pray for your boss to come soon. A relieved sigh escapes your lips when you notice Kim Namjoon through the glass walls of the meeting room. However, your reliever doesn't last long: Namjoon's face is tensed and his clenching jaws are a clear sign of anger.
You've been his personal assistant for four years and a single gaze is enough for you to know what's going on in his handsome head. You mentally go through his appointments to guess what happened but you can't find anything that could make him angry. Moreover, he is not really the type to get angry easily. You look at him with a questioning glance but Namjoon is fully focus on Mr. Choi, so you leave to give them privacy while they talk business.
When you reach your desk, you look at the different things that are planned for today but nothing could get your boss in this grumpy mood. You can't help but worrying about him. You attempt to let that aside and do your work, waiting for Namjoon to come back so you can ask him properly. That might be weird for some people that you two talk about non-work related topics but you think that your relationship with your boss contains some kind of friendship too.
You were 23 years old when you started working at Kim Electronics. You were so excited to have your first real job and were willing to be the best you could. At that time, and even if his dad was the CEO of the company, Namjoon needed to prove himself to the board. He needed someone hard-working, dedicated and that wasn't afraid of working overtime — the exact description of you — to assist him. You feel proud when you look back: you helped him get promoted to Finance Director five months after you arrived, and, recently, CFO. It's crystal clear that when Namjoon's father retires, the board will elect him CEO. A warm feeling of pride fills up your chest when you think about it because, for you, Namjoon is a great boss and an even better human being. However, you can't help but wondering if he'll keep you as his PA or if he'll choose that Min Yoongi weasel who is currently his father's PA.
Lost in your thoughts, you haven't noticed Namjoon coming back until he slams his office door. You jolt and basically run to him. You don't bother knocking and enter. You see Namjoon, in his leather chair, elbows on his desk and his head in his hands. You get closer and pat his large shoulder — did he get buffer?
"What's going on?" You ask him gently but Namjoon only growls in desperation
Your heart squeezes to witness him being so distraught. Of course, in the past four years you've seen him in all kinds of mood: angry that an important contract was cancelled; sad when his granddad died; embarrassed when his legendary clumsiness made him spill his wine glass all over himself during a launch party; and so much more. But it's the first time that he just shut his mouth, not confiding to you. You frown when you can't find what to tell him. You don't like seeing him like that.
"I don't know what to do" He eventually whispers with a broken voice that actually breaks your heart, but you stay silent, waiting for him to keep going "You know that this company is my whole life. It's my family heritage and I've always worked my ass off for it... But I don't know if I'm willing to sacrifice my love life for it"
Your brows furrow at the last sentence. Is Namjoon seeing someone? He never mentioned something like that. Honestly, you don't even know how he finds time to date. You're with him all day, and some nights too when you're working overtime — which happens more often that you'd wished. Your job is the main reason why you're single: further than spending most of your time at the office, when you're free you're too tired to go out. And you know that Namjoon works even more than you.
"What do you mean?" You finally ask when you recover your mind
"My dad came to see me this morning. He wants me to marry Lee Ji-Eun..."
"Lee Ji-Eun as Lee Jung-Hwa's daughter? From TalkTive telecom company?" Your voice is higher pitch than usually from the surprise
Namjoon nods, defeated. It's no secret that arranged marriages happen in the Korean high society. Big firms tend to consolidate their business by marrying their children. However, since Namjoon is almost 31, you thought that his parents were going to let him decide who he wanted to marry. You thought wrong. That's when something like that happens that you're glad to be born in an average family.
"She's... pretty" That's all came to your mind to confort him and that's not brilliant
Namjoon scoffs and looks at you, raising one brow that says 'Is that supposed to make me feel better?'.
"If you want to marry your girlfriend, I'm sure your parents won't force you to be with Ji-Eun" You try with an unsure tone
"Well, I don't have a girlfriend. That's the problem. My dad asked me if I were dating someone. When I said no, he came up with Ji-Eun"
"I'm sorry, Namjoon" You gently tell him, and you're sincere
Your boss gives you a weak smile, appreciating your solace.
"I guess c'est la vie like the French say"
You wince as he does the same. You both know that it's not what Namjoon imagined for his future. Actually, you've never thought about him being with anyone because he hasn't had a girlfriend during the four years you've worked with him — occasional hook-ups with random girls met at clubs or fancy events don't count as girlfriends. Is that why some weird feeling you can't seem to identify presses your chest? It's definitely more than worry about Namjoon but what is it precisely?
————
Knowing Namjoon like the back of your hand, you knew exactly what he needed: to keep his mind busy. That's why you've added more appointments for him this week. The side effect of it? You working overtime to support him. As the days of the week went by, Namjoon grew more irritated, knowing that on Friday he'll have to meet the girl. Oddly enough, you went grumpier yourself too. You tried by all means to schedule something for that night but Mr. Kim father made sure to cancel everything last minute.
So, here you are, in Namjoon's office, facing a defeated Namjoon, a few hours before his date with Lee Ji-Eun. He is just sitting in his chair and you feel bad for him. He truly is a nice guy: always smiling, caring, protective towards his employees. He is strict, which makes him a little bit intimidating sometimes, but he's right. You are very lucky to have him as a boss. Honestly, you wouldn't work for anyone else, especially when Namjoon is also your friend. But right now, it's like all his positive energy ran off.
"Should I call you in the middle of the date, pretexting an emergency?" You propose and you feel lighter when a small laugh — the first of the week — comes from Namjoon's beautiful lips
"I don't think it's a good idea, you could have some trouble afterwards. However, keep your phone close because I might call you to get wasted"
You offer him a genuine smile. Namjoon has always made sure to give you some credits when he succeeded at the firm, and he's always invited you to celebrate it with alcohol. Some kind of 'blow off some steam' thing as he calls it. It's not something awkward or a way to get inside your pants, but more like a team celebration. To be true, your relationship with Namjoon has never been ambiguous: he is your boss and your friend, nothing more.
Of course, you're not blind and you can see how attractive he is — and if you were in fact blind, your female colleagues have made sure that you know he's hot. However, you never felt any sexual tension between you, maybe because you've never set the right mood for that, and not that you're willing to set the mood. But why do you keep looking at his buff chest tightened in his white shirt right now? Your body heat increases when your brain drifts away towards some filthy thoughts about the softness of his lips and the hardness of another part of him. You need to escape his office to prevent yourself from marking a huge mistake that would consist of you kissing and fucking your boss like there were no tomorrow.
After you make sure Namjoon doesn't need anything, you leave the office, promising to support him after his date. But now it's 3 am and you still don't have any sign from your boss. To be honest, you thought that he would call you at 9 pm, cutting short his unwanted date. But you have seen 9, 10, 11 pm and so on passed in silence. Does that mean that Namjoon got along with Ji-Eun? It's a good thing, right? But you can't help but feeling an unpleasant pressure in your chest at that thought. Your brain is working like hell to make up every single scenario possible of the night. You sigh every time you imagine your boss kissing Ji-Eun. What the heck is wrong with you?
————
Namjoon hasn't contacted you all weekend and you're kind of mad. You don't know the exact reason but you guess it's because he told you he'd call you but didn't. Yeah, your pride definitely took a hit. That's why you arrive all grumpy at your company building. You even feel more irritated when you see Namjoon's office door open. Even if you have mixed up feelings — for undetermined reasons —, you can't act unprofessional. That's why you make some coffee and knock before greeting your boss.
Namjoon's smile has returned but you are not as happy as you thought you would be. In fact, you frown when you notice his cheerfulness.
"Y/N, hi!" Namjoon welcomes you, taking the cup of coffee with thankfulness
"Hi. Did you have a good weekend?" You ask but you don't know if you really want to know the answer
"It was nice. The date with Ji-Eun went great. She is amazing: super smart and funny. And the rumors didn't lie, she is gorgeous" Namjoon gets all excited and his eyes sparkle when he talks about the woman he is supposed to marry
You stay silent for a moment, trying to prevent a grinning. Is this because of what he is saying? Or because of your weird feelings? You've never felt like this around Namjoon. You don't really like feeling like that. What kind of friend is not happy when their friends' date was 'great' ?
"Great" You finally say but there is no excitement in your voice "I have to meet the new interns so I've sent you your schedule by email"
It is quite a lame excuse to get out of Namjoon's office because, even though you actually have to meet the new interns, you still have a good 30 minutes before that.
Are you jealous? No, it can't be. Namjoon is your boss. Yes, he is friendly but nothing ever happened between the two of you. And nothing can ever happen. You can't have feelings for him. You don't. But the itchy feeling in your chest could say the opposite... You shake your head to push away those ridiculous thoughts and make your way to the lobby.
Once again, you sigh — maybe the hundredth time this morning — when you notice Min Yoongi. Of course, this louse is here. As the personal assistant of the big boss, he'll make a feedback on the new recruits to Mr. Kim who will decide if one of them will be offered a permanent contract. Even though you understand why Yoongi has to be here, you're annoyed. A sudden urge of murder titillate your fingers. There is no secret that you two don't get along. At first, you didn't have anything against him but then, you noticed how haughty he was towards you. Is it because you're a woman? Or just because you're working for a less important member of the firm? You don't know but it doesn't change anything.
You roll your eyes, passing in front of Yoongi, not greeting him. Why would you when you know that he'll blow you off. It's kind of a shame because the man is surely charming physically. His raven long hair makes him charismatic and creates a real contrast with his white skin. His features are delicate but his dark eyes are a little too beady not to be scary. Perhaps it's also because he never smiles.
Some other employees are here to welcome the interns, too. You look at them with kindness: all those five young people are stressed but willing to do a good job, just like you four years ago. You still remember clearly your first day at Kim Electronics and your first encounter with Namjoon. At the time, you weren't used to wear feminine cloths and usually put on some jeans with a t-shirt. But your job gave you the confidence you needed to wear cloths that suit you, not afraid anymore to be noticed. Sure, your first day was full of mistakes from you, so much that you were afraid that Namjoon would fire you at the end of the day — you even spent your lunch time crying in the restroom. But Namjoon smiled at you and told you 'I hope we'll get to know each other better, then we'll be the best team work of the company'.
Your boss, who was 27 years old, was way more mature and intimidating than you. His charisma made you blush and stutter, and it didn't help that he was extremely attractive. When you started working with him, he was not as brawny as he is today and his hair was blonde and long while it's now short and in a beautiful brown cinder color. However, his smile has always been perfect with his cute dimples, making him less daunting. Actually, his smile is the thing that you love the most about him, not only because it makes him so goddamn handsome but because it's always sincere, almost loving.
The five young and enthusiastic people in front of you bring back all kind of memories to you. Among them, you spot a guy with a very unique style: he is tall and very handsome with his black hair and eyes. His features are so perfect: doe eyes, cute big nose, plump lips with a little silver ring matching his eyebrow piercing. But what catches your eyes is the black tattoos escaping from his cream-color suit. His right hand has some inked patterns and you can easily imagine that the rest of his arm is no different. If he weren't wearing a classy suit with a light blue tie, you'd think he is a rockstar. More than his unique look and handsome face, he has a strong aura. It's hard to get your eyes off of him.
"You're going to sexually harass the interns now?"
Yoongi's annoying voice and comment reach your ears and a shiver of disgust runs though your back.
"What kind of sick fantasies fill your brain?" You bark at him
"I'm not the one literally eye-fucking them"
"Don't you have someone else to bother?" You ask while rolling your eyes
"You get so easily annoyed, why would I look for a better prey?" Yoongi smirks
Honestly, you want to slap him in the face but you're not sure that your bosses will appreciate it so you just take a step away from him, hoping that it will make him forget your existence. It does someway since the little fucker—you mean Yoongi stops talking.
————
"Hi, I'm Jeon Jungkook, they told me I'll be with you this week"
The handsome intern you noticed earlier is standing tall in front of you. His sweet voice and his bunny smile are the opposite of his look. He seems kind despite his intimidating piercings and tattoos. As they say, never judge a book by its cover...
"Hi, Jungkook! I'm Y/N, Mr. Kim's assistant. How are you? Not too nervous for your first day?" You tell him with a genuine smile
"I'm okay, I'm actually eager to know more" Jungkook responds, scrunching his nose
Cute. You instantly grow soft on him. Something about him really reminds you about your old self, at the beginning of your career. Namjoon has guided you all the way through it and you perfectly know that things would have been way harder without him, so you are willing to do the same for Jungkook, hoping that he'll feel as untroubled as you when Namjoon was around.
"Let's introduce you to Mr. Kim then"
You knock on Namjoon's door and enter with the intern by your side. You're surprised to see your boss on the phone but not for a business call. You tense when you hear Ji-Eun's name. You grow even more annoyed that Namjoon has a bright smile on his face. What the hell? They've known each other for five minutes! You wish you could roll your eyes but don't. So you just clear your throat, making Namjoon finally realize that you're here.
He straightens on his chair and hangs up. He looks at Jungkook with a questioning look so you take on yourself to introduce them. Some mundane civilities are exchanged and you can finally exit Namjoon's office. The good thing about having Jungkook working with you is that you don't have time to question your weird feelings. Jungkook is actually pretty good and works with his heart. You'll make sure to talk positively about him at the end of the month when Mr. Kim decides which intern should work at Kim Electronics. You spend all week explaining to him how things work and doing your usual job as Namjoon's PA. You don't have an extra minute to think.
Well, that's what you thought until Friday afternoon. In twenty minutes, you will eventually be able to enjoy the confort of your couch, doing nothing but binge-watching Netflix's new series. Your mood is a little lighter than the rest of the week — maybe the new light pink blouse you're wearing is helping too?
You're humming while entering Namjoon's office with a new hot cup of coffee for your boss. Even though you'll clock out soon, the same thing cannot be said for Namjoon who still has to meet a business partner tonight. You see him standing up, a file in hands and his brows furrow. You love seeing him like this: it's his 'work face'. The one he is making when he's fully focus on his job. His whole energy changes, making him a true successor for the CEO post. You could even say that he is more handsome like that.
Namjoon is so focus that he hasn't noticed you yet. You step closer to him but it is a really bad idea because at the same time, Namjoon raises his hand to push back his brown hair. As a result, the whole cup of coffee slashes your — unfortunately new — pink shirt. Thankfully, Namjoon doesn't like boiling hot coffee so you don't burn yourself. However, you're completely stained in brown color liquid and the fabric sticks to your bra and skin.
You wince and Namjoon's eyes widen. You don't really have time to feel embarrassed, even though Namjoon is clearly aware of your curves right now.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N! Let me help you" Your boss exclaims, already grabbing some tissues on his desk.
"Namjoon, it's okay, don't worry" You try to stop him but he is already wiping the liquid off of your shirt — or trying to
Actually, he is making things worst, the tissues crumble in small white particles on your shirt without even absorbing the coffee out of you. The gesture might be kind but Namjoon's movements are nothing like gentle. He is pushing hard against your chest, almost painfully. At every wipe, your shirt is stretched. He is definitely not aware of his strength...
"Namjoon, be gent-"
Your sentence is cut off by a loud noise of ripping fabric. You look down to measure the disaster: your pink shirt is totally open, result of all the little buttons popping. Your white bra is now visible for everyone and especially for Namjoon.
His red cheeks clearly acknowledge that your breasts are right in front of him. But you're blushing too. Your skin is burning and it's not because of the coffee spilt on it. Namjoon's glance and fingers on you cause a wave of arousal washing off all over your body. His eyes even seem to take his dragon shape, intense and darker. Maybe you're going crazy because for a second, you feel Namjoon caressing your boob with the tip of his long fingers — which causes a sweet moan to escape your lips—, right before he removes his hand like he has burnt himself.
He immediately turns to give you some privacy and you feel disappointed—No! You feel relieved that your boss didn't look at your breasts. What the hell is wrong with you?
"I, uhm, I have a spare shirt. Let me grab it for you" Namjoon embarrassedly says with a raspy voice
He grabs a light blue buttoned up shirt from his office cabinet. You know he always keeps one of them, just in case his clumsiness puts him in a difficult situation. Like right now. Except that you're the one in the difficult situation. Namjoon gives you the shirt without looking at you and exits his office to give you time to change.
Namjoon's shirt is bigger than you thought. The bottom hem covers your hips and butt entirely and the sleeves are so long that you can't see your hands. You decide to roll them up to your elbows and tie a knot to shorten the shirt. It will be enough to go home. You're not sure it's your best look, it's surely not flattering but, oddly, you feel good in it. The shirt smells like Namjoon: a light scent of lemon mixed with woody smell. Your insane mind wonders how it would feel to be hugged by your boss. You shake your head to get rid of those ideas. Lately, your brain is going crazy and imagines Namjoon in unprofessional ways.
A light knock on the door helps you to stop thinking non-sense and you informe Namjoon that he can come in. When he opens the door and his eyes meet your features wrapped in his cloths, his mouth opens. He has inappropriate thoughts about you. You look hot and cute at the same time. He can't deny a strange feeling of possessiveness towards you, definitely accentuates by you wearing his clothes. He is somewhat glad that other men will see you like that. He someway wishes to see you more often with his large shirt on your body. More than that, he wishes to see your body without his large shirt on. He has to gather all his strength not to let his dick get hard.
But then, he remembers your gorgeous boobs delicately held by your white bra. So pure and so erotic. Fuck, he wanted to touch you so bad, to feel the softness of your skin, to taste you, to mark you even. He has never had this kind of thoughts and desires about you. Not because he thinks you're not pretty — because you're fucking beautiful — but because Namjoon made a pact with himself: you're too attractive for his sanity so he'll stick to a professional behavior with you. He can't let his tantalizing controlling him. Namjoon is your boss, he can't abuse his power like that. But on the other hand, it's hard to resist, especially when he got a peak of your body.
Namjoon's eyes on you make you blush. You can't say what he is thinking. A tiny part of your brain wishes he finds you good. Once again, what the hell is wrong with you? Namjoon is your boss, period.
"I should run for Chanel's fashion show, right?" You joke and Namjoon chuckles
"You should" He says with a smile "But I'm a bit offended, my shirt looks better on you"
You cheeks redden harder and you look down. Why does your heart beat faster?
————
Three weeks have passed since the shirt incident. Namjoon and you haven't talked about it, not that there were anything else to say. You're back at your professional relationship — a small part of you feel strange about it — and Namjoon had two more dates with Ji-Eun. Every time Namjoon says her name and his eyes sparkle, you get annoyed. You try to convince yourself that it's because he is less focused on his job — although he's not — but you start to understand what is truly going on. You know damn well that you're beginning to have feelings for your boss. But your jealousy — that easily turns into pain — is suffocating. Namjoon is your boss and he is going to marry another woman. That won't be good for you and your little heart. That's why you're trying your best to keep your feelings as far away as possible from you and your overthinking brain.
Anyway, you have to be totally focused on your job, especially when you have to deal with Mr. Choi. Indeed, Namjoon and you have a business lunch with Mr. Choi and his own assistant. You try not to pay attention to Mr. Choi's disgusting smirk every time he looks at you. You can't even smile at him fearing of him misinterpreting it. Unconsciously, you get closer to Namjoon.
You let the three men discuss business while you mentally take note of the details. You have a good memory which is a big benefit for your job. You're good at writing the minutes of the different meetings that Namjoon attends, formal and informal.
At the same time, you enjoy the delicious lunch payed by your company. You can't afford it with your wage but one of the bonuses of being Namjoon's PA is that you are sometimes invited to business luncheons in fancy restaurants. The starter was a tasteful cold tomato soup with parmesan cheese chips. And you're about to take the first bite of your steak with roasted vegetables puree. The presentation of the dish is so delicate that it breaks your heart to sink your fork into it. You hum in delight when the first savors spread under your palate. But you frown immediately. Sesame. There is sesame in the sauce.
You turn your head as fast as you can towards Namjoon. Your heart stops when you see his fork getting closer to his mouth. You scream 'Stop!' and harshly push his hand. His fork lands on Mr. Choi's shirt, staining it but you don't care.
Namjoon looks at you with big surprised eyes. And surely, the rest of the table has the same expression on their faces. You can't mind about it because you are completely panicked. The idea of what could happen drives you crazy.
"Are you okay? You didn't eat it, right?" You ask him, alarmed, checking his face and throat to detect any sign of swelling
"Don't worry" He answers gently, taking your hands off of his face but still holding them
His big palms feel warm around your small fingers. You look into his eyes and you're destabilized to see what looks like affection. You get lost a moment in his beautiful dark brown eyes. The intensity of his glance on you cuts off your breathe. Your eyes move by themselves to set on Namjoon's lips. You automatically lick your own. A not-so-new wave of arousal caused by Namjoon shakes your pussy, painfully clenching around nothing.
A clearing of throat tears you off of your thoughts and you step away from your boss's face. You look around and yell a waiter close by.
"Could you change his plate please? He's allergic to sesame"
"Sure, no problem" The waiter responds, taking the plate that could have killed your boss.
Now that the adrenaline goes down and you're getting aware of what just happened, you feel embarrassed. It's worst when you see the disaster on Mr. Choi's shirt.
"I'm sorry" You apologize to him with a small voice "I'll pay for the cleaning"
"Seo-Joon, go buy a new shirt. Quick"
His assistant wastes no time and basically runs to accomplish his fashion mission. It's the first time you hear Mr. Choi talking with such a harsh tone. He is looking at you without his usually lewd eyes but angry ones. You shiver, unpleasantly, under his threatening gaze.
You're feeling ill-at-ease and it's worse when Namjoon excuses himself to use the restroom. An embarrassing one-on-one with Mr. Choi begins and you instantly regret his severe eye. Yes, his salacious face has returned.
"Aigo! I can't wipe my shirt. Could you help me?" Mr. Choi smirks
As disgusted as you are, you can't say no while you're the cause of his stained shirt. You carefully stand up and get closer, your napkin in hand. Slightly bended over, you try to wipe off but it doesn't seem to do anything.
Your hand halts when you feel something against your butt. No way, it can't be. However, you do clearly feel a caressing movement on your ass. Your blood runs cold. Is Mr. Choi — this disgusting pig — touching your butt? You look up at him and notice his pleased smirk. You want to puke, preferably on Mr. Choi. You are completely paralyzed by horror. You can't move one bit. You feel disgusted by Mr. Choi's behavior but also by your body that has been soiled.
Namjoon stops his steps when he witnesses the worst scene of his life. Mr. Choi, one of his most important business partners, is sexually harassing you. His disgusting hand is caressing your bump in the middle of a restaurant. Namjoon has never felt this angry. He swears he could kill this yucky pig. He clenches his fists and runs to you to harshly push Mr. Choi's palm away from you.
"What the hell is going on?!" Namjoon yells, making few people around looking at your table
Your and Mr. Choi's eyes widen in surprise. You feel relieved to see him but also... ashamed? Why? You didn't do anything wrong, so why do you feel guilty? You look at your feet.
"I said, what is going on?" Namjoon asks again with a harsh and tensed tone which makes you jolt
"Mr. Kim, I think you misread the situation" Mr. Choi responds with such confidence that you could believe him if it weren't your ass he was touching
"Really?" Namjoon's jaws clench in rage "We're leaving. And let's cancel our partnership, Kim Electronics won't be associated with a sexual offender" Then Namjoon gets threateningly closer to Mr. Choi and speaks with a deeper and more intimidating voice "Let me tell you that you're lucky we're in public, otherwise, you'd be on the floor begging for forgiveness"
Namjoon grabs your hand and your bag and drags you out of the restaurant. He is walking so fast with his long legs that you have a hard time following his pace, especially with your high heels. However, he suddenly stops, making you bump into his back. He turns around to look into your eyes. Your boss's face is so tensed with anger, you've never seen him like this in the past four years.
"Has this son of a bitch ever touched you like that?"
"No, it was the first time" You confess, looking down
"Did he ever make you feel uncomfortable?"
You don't think like lying would be a good idea, that's why a weak 'Yes' escapes your lips with a murmur. Even though Mr Choi didn't touch you — until now —, he did ask some kind of personal informations about you, mainly when you were free, or if you were single. If these questions could have been innocent, the tone he used was more than suggestive and the way he sometimes got closer to you was not appreciated. But now that you've told Namjoon, you have hope to not have to face it again.
Namjoon nods like he is trying to internalize the information, gritting his teeth. He truly wants to punch Mr. Choi in the face. Actually, he wants to kill him. Rage makes his blood boil in his veins. How could he have worked with such a piece of shit? Putting you in danger? He is your boss but also your friend. He should have protected you. He should have seen the signs of the sexual harassment that you were undergone. He feels so fucking guilty.
"I'm so sorry, Y/N" Namjoon speaks again with a softer voice, a culpable voice
"Why? You didn't do anything wrong" You immediately say, the last thing you want is him to feel bad
"I should have known, I should have noticed. Fuck, I'm so dumb-"
You cut him off with a hug. Your arms merely circle his large torso and you can feel how brawny he is. You hate seeing Namjoon this devastated while he is not responsible one bit. And maybe you do need to feel safe and protected by someone you trust after what happened. Namjoon is this person. Your heart breaks to see him this guilty but also speeds up to feel him in your arms. That's when you know. You have fallen in love with him.
Namjoon freezes one second before hugging you back. His strong arms totally wrap around your frame. You seem so small and delicate between his arms. It feels right. You're so beautiful, so smart, so funny, so kind to everyone. You don't deserve to be treated like that by a fucking pervert. You deserve to be cherish every single day and the man you'll choose to be with will be the luckiest bastard in the world.
"Stop apologizing, you didn't do anything wrong, Namjoon" You say in his buff chest "I should have told you how I felt"
"No, you have nothing to feel guilty about. He's a fucking asshole. I swear, I won't ever let something like that happen to you again. If someone touches you, I'll take care of them personally"
It's not only a promise he is making to you, but to himself too. You're too precious in his life. The alarming tsunami that shakes his heart at the idea of you being hurt leads him completely lost with his feelings. Why does he feel this moved by anything that happens to you? Why does he feel his heart trying to escape his rib cage to enter yours?
————
You put aside what happened at the restaurant with Mr. Choi for the rest of the week. It's not really hard not to think about it when you have so much work to do. However, it's when you're home alone and have more time to think that it gets harder. Namjoon made sure you were okay and kept telling you that it wasn't your fault. It's still a little bit hard to believe but you know that, with a little more time, you'll truly understand it. Your boss also kept his promise and cut off all business ties Kim Electronics had with Mr. Choi's company. Thankfully, it didn't affect too much the firm you work in since others business partners virtually begged to take Mr. Choi's place.
You gather your documents and head to the board meeting room. Today is the final day of the interns and several employees — including you — are invited to present a report on their work. You didn't change your mind and think that Jungkook should be the one to get a job offer from Kim Electronics.
The atmosphere of the room suddenly changes when Mr. Kim, the CEO, enters, followed by Yoongi. Namjoon looks so much like his dad: tall, dragon brown eyes, charismatic aura. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree like they say. You bow at your big boss like your other colleagues and the meeting starts. Even if some employees defend other interns, most of them praise Jungkook's work. He was enthusiastic and motivated with everyone and showed a real willing to learn the job.
"I kept a report that I asked him to write at the end of his first week. As you can see, he has done a very good job at it and I'm sure that, if we give him the opportunity, he'll be an important element of our team" You end your presentation, glad of how it turned out
Well, that was before the little brat of Yoongi. The second you set eyes on him, you notice his mischievous smirk. Even before he opens his vicious mouth, you want to slap him in the face.
"You seemed to get along with Mr. Jeon. I even think you're the one who got to know him the best. Maybe you could tell us more about his personality? Is he nice?" Yoongi's voice is jeering and a little condescending but you're sure that no one gets it
You know damn well what he means by 'nice'. Yoongi hasn't stopped implying that you had a crush on Jungkook. His sick brain is obsessed with the idea of you having a relationship with Jungkook for whatever reason. But is he really willing to discredit your judgment in front of your boss? You swear you could strangle him right now.
"Jungkook seems to be loyal. Like I said, he is cheerful and motivated. These are the qualities we should look for in a candidate, don't you think Mr. Min?" You answer and internally jump in joy when you witness Yoongi's face turning red in frustration
"Sure" He simple replays, jaws clenched
A few minutes later, a vote designates Jungkook as the intern who'll get the job offer. The good news make you happy. Jungkook truly deserves it after how hard he has worked this month. You can't wait to tell him. You feel like a proud mom, maybe because you see Jungkook as your protégé.
On your way back to your desk, you encounter Jungkook. His all back suit and tie enhances his charisma but the big bunny smile and scrunching nose he gives you make your heart melt in cuteness. You exchange few civilities.
"We just had the meeting regarding you guys" You tell him at some point
"Oh really? How did it go?" He genuinely asks, without even thinking about him in particular but about his four colleagues that became his friends
His sincerity moves you. He looks so much like you four years ago.
"Can I tell you a secret?" You ask with a smile and he nods
You step closer, stand on your tiptoes — Jungkook shouldn't be this tall — and whisper in his ear.
"You're the one who'll get the offer"
Jungkook looks into your eyes, surprise painted on his face. It just lasts a few second because he soon blushes hard.
"Really?" He says with a small voice, just like he was afraid to wake up from a dream if he speaks too loud
"Yes, congratulations!" You tell him
He gives you a big hug, his body completely controlled by his euphoria. You giggle and hug him back. Seeing his reaction proves you once again that he deserves it.
However, in this moment of ecstasy, you didn't notice Namjoon. He, on the other hand, is clearly aware of what's going on. He looks at Jungkook hugging you and a heavy pound is drawing down his heart for an unknown reason. When did you get this close to this intern? He knows you were in charge of him at the beginning of the month but did you keep in touch? Your bright smile caused by another man's embrace irritates him so much. What the hell is going on?
He doesn't think too much and walks — would he dare to say run? — to the two of you and clears his throat. Your pretty eyes land on Namjoon's face and you step away from Jungkook. The young man greets your boss but Namjoon doesn't really respond. Yet, he addresses you:
"You didn't forget our tryst, right?"
What?
Yes, you have planned to grab a drink with Namjoon tonight to wind down all the stressful events of the week, and it's not the first time, but it surely is the first time your boss refers to it as a 'tryst'. It's not a business meeting but it's nothing like a romantic date so why would Namjoon use such a confusing word?
"I-I didn't" You stutter, not sure what else to say
"Good, see you later then, Y/N" Namjoon replies with a bright smile that shows his dimples and leaves as fast as he has arrived, leading to an awkward silence between you and Jungkook
————
You don't know if that's because of Namjoon's words earlier but you do feel nervous while waiting for your boss. You do as always, that is to say you're standing at your desk, right in front of Namjoon's office. You know that he'll join you in a few minutes and your heart beats irregularly. You try some breathing exercices to calm you down. It works — until you heard Namjoon's steps getting closer to you. You're sure you're blushing facing his handsomeness. God, this cream-color suit with his white shirt are too perfect on him.
"You're ready?" He asks you with a smile
You nod and you two exits the building. You're heading towards your usual spot: a lounge bar not so far away from Kim Electronics building. It's not really your style, the bar being attended by rich business men and women, but you know that Namjoon likes it. It's not at all surprising since he grew up in the social elite. However, he is not haughty. He treats people right and never thinks he's superior just because he has money. To be honest, his parents made sure to teach him values and he is so thankful of that when he sees other chaebol, sons or daughters of the rich industrial South Korean conglomerate, being total dicks.
Your nervousness fades with the glasses you swallow. Four glasses of wine later, you're a little bit more than tipsy. In fact, you've drunken faster than you usually do because you didn't know how to act with Namjoon. You're now fully aware of your feelings for him but you can't say anything when he is getting married to someone's else. You sigh at that thought and drink another sip of alcohol.
"Are you okay?" Namjoon asks, worried that you haven't spoke much tonight
"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" You answer but not looking at him, he knows damn well you're lying
"You know you can tell me anything, right?"
The softness of his deep voice and the sudden coming closer to look at you in the eyes are a threat for your weak heart. Fuck, he is even more handsome at close range. You loose all your determination and allow yourself to get lost into his beautiful eyes. Your owns slowly make their way to Namjoon's full lips, dying to taste them. You can clearly depict his little mold under his lower lip and you crave to feel him. A fire sets up inside you and goes right between your legs. You press your thighs together because of your pussy wetness. It enhances when Namjoon pokes his tongue out to moisture his lips, making them juicier.
"Don't marry her"
What the fuck are you saying?! You didn't even realize your words until it's too late. You wish the ground below you could open and swallow you.
"What?" Namjoon's high pitch and gulp say much about his surprise
"I was joking" You attempt, faking a little laugh — you don't even believe yourself
Namjoon doesn't say anything and you feel worse. He is your friend but he is also your boss. You can't tell him not to marry Lee Ji-Eun while you know that they — unfortunately — get along and that their marriage would have such a good and big impact on Kim Electronics. You're ridiculous if you think, just for one second, that something could happen between you and Namjoon. He is way too handsome, way too important to be interested in you. You're just a mundane person. The only reason you're talking to him is because you work for his family's company.
Even though you've been knowing this harsh reality for a long time, it still hurts to remember it. Water fills your eyes and you turn your head to prevent Namjoon from noticing it. But it's too late. You feel two big and warm palms on your cheeks, gently making you look at him. A worried expression is painted on his handsome face.
"Hey, tell me what's wrong" He speaks softly, his heart breaking a little when he remarks the pain into your pretty eyes
You can't tell him the whole truth but you can say a part of it.
"It's just that... I'm afraid things will change between us, at work" Your voice breaks at the last word
It's crystal clear that everything will change after Namjoon's wedding. Would you be strong enough to see the man you love with someone else? To suffer in silence while he'll look at Ji-Eun with love eyes?
"Nothing will ever change between us, Y/N. You're not just my assistant, you're my friend" Namjoon's soft tone is supposed to release you but his words are another dragger in your heart
It's even more painful when his hands caressing your cheeks — now soaked by the tears you couldn't hold — are nothing like the sense you would like them to have. He is doing that by friendship, and you would like him to do it by love.
"I have an idea" You gulp since you have a bad feeling about what Namjoon is going to propose "Let's go hiking, with Ji-Eun. You'll see you have nothing to worry about. I'm sure you'll get along"
Fuck, that hurts. The light of affection in Namjoon's eyes when he talks about Ji-Eun is painful to watch. Even his gorgeous smile and dimples look like a deadly weapon when they're for someone's else. You swallow the lump in your throat and agree. What else could you do? So you drink more than you should to forget that you made a pact with the devil.
————
You thought about all kinds of excuses to cancel the hike but you're a terrible liar and Namjoon would have read right into your lies. For the first time in your life, you pray for a rainy day in May. However, stepping out Namjoon's car — he came to pick you up while Ji-Eun uses her own car to meet you directly at Bukhansan National Park —a bright sun is shining high in the sky on this Saturday morning. You sigh while Namjoon grabs your two backpacks with water, snacks and first aid just in case. He helps you wearing it and adjusts the straps. The brief contact of his hands on your shoulders doesn't go unnoticed by your heart. Why are you sensitive when it comes to him? You can hear your heartbeats in your ears. You're so stupid when you're in love.
"Great!" Namjoon exclaims, finding you very cute with your white cap on and your pouty face
You take a few seconds to appreciate Namjoon without his working clothes. He looks so different with his tight dark blue tank top and his black shorts, with a white cap just like you. You can clearly see his muscles flexing every time he moves. His biceps are huge, way more that you could imagine when they wrapped under the fabric of his shirts. His tank top molds his buff chest so well, you can practically count his abs. You can't deny that he's hot like that, so fucking daddy material. Imagining him being your baby daddy and the process of making it raises a wave of arousal in you. Okay, you're officially crazy...
A horn stops your fantasy. You look up to witness a big red Range Rover getting parked. It doesn't take long for Ji-Eun to step out and meet you. You put a smile on your face while your whole confidence crumbles down. Ji-Eun is so gorgeous, way more than the photos you've seen of her. Her fair skin compliments her dark eyes and hair. Her features are delicate, she looks like a china doll. Just as if wasn't enough for her to have a perfect face, she is wearing a way more appealing outfit than you. Ji-Eun could be a model for a sportswear brand: her adjusted white fake-skirt and her fitness tank top hugs her small frame perfectly.
You look down at your own cloths and frown. You should have picked something more complimenting than some oversize shorts — they actually once belong to your dad in the 1980s — and an old t-shirt from your university. You have no style. Hopefully, your hiking skills will give the change. To be true, you like hiking and since Namjoon discovered your taste in common, he has often invited you to go on a hike with him. You quite love those moments with your boss outside the office. You get to forget everything and breathe pure air for a few hours, and you talk about anything except work. You also do think that this kind of activities deepen your connection with him.
However, his fucking I'm-stupidly-in-love smile has returned and Ji-Eun blushes. You want to slap them both in the face. A burning jealousy builds inside you and you hate the feeling. It hurts to see the man you love loving someone else.
"Namjoon! I hope you didn't wait too long for me" Ji-Eun says with an annoying honey voice
Yeah, just like you weren't here.
"Not at all. Let me introduce you" Namjoon turns towards you "This is Y/N, my assistant and good friend. Y/N, you can officially meet Ji-Eun after hearing so much about her"
"Nice to meet you" You find the strength to lie
"Me too" Ji-Eun offers you a shy smile
Actually, Ji-Eun has heard of you too. Namjoon often talks about you, rather because it's related to work or — something she doesn't like much — unrelated to work. When he offered Ji-Eun to join you for hiking, she accepted thinking that she'd feel less threaten by you. However, it's worse now. She expected you to be less pretty. Ji-Eun is pretty confident about her look, that's why she didn't suggest a one-on-one date with Namjoon today. But now, she knows that it's impossible for Namjoon not to find you attractive. Maybe she should allude for Namjoon to put you in another service after their wedding? Just to keep you away from him.
"Alright" Namjoon claps enthusiastically in his hands "Let's go!"
Your little group starts hiking. At first, you cursed at yourself for wearing an ugly cap but when you see how Ji-Eun is slowly melting down under the sun, you're pretty glad with your choice.
After a few minutes, the rail gets more inclined since the Bukhansan Mount starts. The park is an attended spot of Seoul people willing to go on a trek. It's not an easy one but the delightful tensing in your legs as you feel your muscles working is a great reward. The nature, the trees, the flowers and the butterflies around you clean your lungs from the pollution of the South Korean capital.
"One step further—" Namjoon starts suddenly
"One less step later" You fill, and you both laugh
It's something you've kept saying the first time Namjoon and you went to hike. Namjoon was so tired that day that he was complaining non-stop. So you came up with this sentence to keep him motivated.
"You remember when we went to Geumjeongsanseong Fortress, in Busan?" Namjoon asks you
"Of course I remember! I thought I was going to kill you" You joke
Your hike to Geumjeongsanseong Fortress is definitely one of the most memorable moments with your boss. It was two years ago when Namjoon was assisting a major event with the main industrial firms of South Korea. Since you had one day off, you'd decided to go for a trek. You knew this trek was one of the most difficult ones: nine miles with huge stones path, almost climbing parts. The point was to visit the famous fortress. However, nothing went as it was supposed to when it started raining. Or more like pouring. You had no other choice than to keep going, careful not to break an ankle on a sliding rock. You remember damn well asking your boss if he had checked the weather and his positive respond, while he actually didn't do it.
"I've never seen you this mad" Namjoon continues
"I was but, I have to say, the path was beautiful. I don't regret it"
"I'm glad to hear that" Namjoon gives you a bright smile, remembering all the hardships you both went through to see the goddamn fortress
If you and Namjoon are sharing a good laugh, full of different memories and private jokes, Ji-Eun is boiling in rage. Namjoon used to give her his loving eyes and his genuine smile. So why is he giving them to his assistant? Ji-Eun loves to be the center of attention and right now, it's like she isn't even here. More than jealous, she feels attacked in her pride. She and Namjoon are definitely going to get married so she has to get rid of you. You're just a stupid assistant. Your family is not rich, has no relations with the social elite. In other words, you're nothing.
"Namjoon, do you have some water please?" Ji-Eun asks with a fake weak voice
She is planing to fake a weakness so Namjoon worries and focuses on her.
"Of course"
You stop so Namjoon can dig into his backpack and pull out a fresh bottle of water. Ji-Eun takes it delicately and only drinks a sip. You frown, finding it suspicious. If she were really thirsty, she would have drunk more than this.
"Could you walk next to me? I didn't take a hat, but you're tall enough to be my personal parasol" Ji-Eun giggles
She. is. fucking. annoying.
"No prob" Namjoon's usual cheerfulness shines through his sincere smile
He has no clue of Ji-Eun's deceit. You, on the other hand, are clearly aware of it. Especially when she gives you a cold glance.
You're concentrated on internally bitching on Ji-Eun, walking faster than the couple. The sunny weather is the complete opposite of your grumpy mood. You let your inner negative feelings take over you and you rip on a small rock. A vivid pain immobilizes your left ankle and you harshly fall on the ground. If your ankle weren't so painful, maybe you could have felt the hardness of the ground against your kneels and palms, causing small drops of blood forming on your freshly bruised skin.
"Arg!" You hiss when you try to stand up
"Y/N!" Namjoon exclaims as he runs to you
Worry is all over his face but it's nothing compared to all the emotions shaking his chest. He is panicked that you've hurt yourself. The little traces of blood on yours hands and knees makes him wince.
"Where are you hurt? Is it your ankle?" He asks with urgency
You nod, your eyebrows furrowing in pain. Namjoon palpates the source of the pain. He concentrates to feel anything that it's not at the right place but, thankfully, no broken bones is detected. He takes off the first aid kit off of his bag and tightly bandages your ankle.
"I think you've have sprained it" Namjoon says softly "Get on my back, you're going back"
You wince at the idea but when you're up, you quickly realize that you can't walk. You're so fucking stupid. You should have been concentrated on your steps rather than on your jealousy. Actually, more than jealousy, it's pain that you've have felt when you saw how good Namjoon and Ji-Eun looked together. They are both so beautiful and their smiles are so wide when they look at each other.
Namjoon gives his backpack to Ji-Eun who takes it reluctantly. Then, Namjoon kneels down, and you get up on his large back. He secures his forearms under your knees and stands up with no difficulty, just as you were as light as a feather.
"You okay?" He asks you as he starts walking
"Yeah, don't worry about me. Are you though?"
"Of course I am, I get to show my muscles to a pretty lady" Namjoon jokes
Your hearts skips a beat when you wonder if he meant Ji-Eun or you. It isn't really important because you feel your cheeks redden — hopefully you can blame it on the weather — and your heart enhances its pace. When you get to fill Namjoon's neck between your arms, you forget all the pain in your ankle. You love the sensation. You love his scent. You love how his big frame fit in your smaller one.
Namjoon, even if he tries to stay focus on the path not to drift and hurt you more, truly feels the warmth of your body. He also enjoys a little more than he should your boobs pressed against his back. He tightens his grip around your thighs to pull you closer and feel you better. He wishes he could hold you without the lame excuse of your sprained ankle but he knows he shouldn't even think about it. So he keeps his fantasy of his body between your legs — this time facing you — to himself and walks fast to redirect his blood from his hardening cock to his moving legs.
————
Namjoon is sitting at a coffee shop with Ji-Eun after dropping you at your home. He made sure to put some ice on your ankle and asked you one hundred times if you wanted him to stay. You declined, arguing you were tired while you just wanted to cry, knowing that the man who took care of you was destined to someone's else. Namjoon left you with heavy heart and met Ji-Eun as she proposed him.
They still have both their hiking clothes. Ji-Eun is talking about something but Namjoon has no clue since all he is thinking about is you. He wonders if you're okay, if your ankle doesn't hurt much. You looked sad when he left, causing him to grow worried.
"Are you listening?" Ji-Eun asks him with an upset tone
"Sorry, I was worried about Y/N" Namjoon sincerely answers
'You, again' Ji-Eun thinks with clenched jaws. She really has to do something. Her pride makes her want Namjoon's total attention. She is not willing to share it with someone like you. She doesn't really have feelings for Namjoon, even though he is a good looking guy, but his social status and his money are what Ji-Eun is interested in. He will make her look good and that's all she wants. And you in the frame would be like a strain on the painting.
"You know, I think you should keep your distance with your assistant" She starts, faking a worry
"What? Why?" Namjoon is taken aback
Ever since you entered his life, he has never imagined working — or living — without you by his side. He always thought you would be the one next to him when he is finally elected CEO of Kim Electronics. Not only because you play a great role in his success but also because he wants you there, as a person he cares about.
"When we get married, you'll have way more responsibilities. You will need someone with high qualifications to help you. I know someone who could help you, his name is Kim Seokjin. He went to Seoul National University, that says it all. You should hire him"
"What about Y/N?" Namjoon frowns, rage slowly building inside him
"Come on! She is not good enough for you" Ji-Eun laughs
"You know nothing about her" Namjoon snaps, instantly stopping Ji-Eun's laugh "She is the one who helped me getting the post I have now. She is the one who made me a good successor for my father. I couldn't have done it without her. More than my work, she cares about me, as a person. I think it's the best thing you could wish for an assistant and a friend. I don't care what university she went to, she's still the best person I know"
Ji-Eun stays silent for a moment, completely shocked. No one, no man has ever talked to her like that. She is used to have her natural beauty working for her. She just has to snap her fingers to get what she wants. Her ego is smashed up by Namjoon. Why? Because of you. She can't take it.
"I don't want her around when we get married" She says coldly, her tone makes it clear that it's not negotiable
"Don't make me choose between you and Y/N" Namjoon implores
"Why?" Ji-Eun provokes
"Because I'd choose Y/N. I will always choose her" He confesses, more to himself than to Ji-Eun
She made him realize that. You are the most important person in his life. He can't even imagine his life without you. If he's ready to give up his wedding with Ji-Eun just not to put distance with you, what does that mean? Does that mean he's in lo... No. You're just a good friend and an excellent assistant.
"You're an asshole" Ji-Eun says with clenched jaws "I'll be sure to tell my dad what person you're truly are"
"Go ahead" Namjoon is growing tired of Ji-Eun's attitude and pseudo-threat
With a final dramatic gasp, she leaves. Namjoon sighs, lost in all the overwhelming feelings that suddenly seem to wash over him. It's like everything he has buried for four years resurfaces but ten times bigger. So many details come back to his mind: all the little things that made him fall for you.
————
All week long Namjoon has been someway distant with you. He only talked to you about work. Actually, he was practically ignoring you. You were worried about his strange behavior, wondering if something happened between him and Ji-Eun after your shortened hiking, but didn't want to push him to say something he didn't want to. You know him well enough to say that he'll tell you when he is ready.
It's late on Friday, pretty much everyone when home but you stay: Namjoon is still here working hard. He went to meet his dad about ten minutes ago but you stayed at your desk. Since he has been a little bit down the past few days, you can't abandon him. You'll stay until he leaves. That's why you're taking care of Namjoon's mails and meetings for the next weeks as the sun slowly sets down.
"Sunbae, you still here?" Jungkook asks as he arrives at your desk, a genuine smile on his face
"Oh, Jungkook! What are you doing here? You should go out and enjoy your weekend" You tell him
"I just wanted to give a report to Mr. Kim before leaving" He answers, handing you a file
You take it and thank him. Jungkook looks very good after a long day of work, even though his black hair is a little bit messy.
"You're working late, do you want a coffee?" Jungkook gently offers you but you decline, notifying him that you'll be home soon
Just before Jungkook walks away, Namjoon comes back. His whole body tenses when he sees Jungkook smiling at you. Are you that blind not to see he's flirting with you? Or do you like it? Anyway, Namjoon surely doesn't. At all. He walks faster and opens his mouth when he arrives at your desk:
"If you're here to chitchat, you can go home, Y/N"
His harsh tone surprises you. He has never talked to you like that, even when you've made a huge mistake that costed him a billions wons contract. You want to talk back but Namjoon doesn't give you time and enters his office, not without slamming the door.
"I'm sorry if I put you in trouble" Jungkook tells you with a guilty voice, looking down in shame
"Don't worry, you did nothing wrong" You console him, a reassuring hand on his shoulder "You should go, I'll deal with him"
You two wave at each other when the young employee disappears at the end of the hallway. Your smile fades away too, anger taking over your body. You've been worried about Namjoon all week, you've been working harder to ease him and he thanks you by snapping at you? You can't stand his attitude any longer.
What you don't know is that Namjoon avoided you because, after his talk with Ji-Eun, he tried to understand his feelings. Every time he saw you, he found you prettier. It took all his determination not to kiss you and fuck you. He even had to jerk himself off at home thinking about you to control his horniness towards you. It was too much today when he saw you this morning wearing a fucking pencil grey skirt hugging your pretty ass perfectly. Your tight aubergine shirt was unbuttoned enough for Namjoon to have a peak on your bra. Vivid memories of the day he's spilled his coffee on your chest made up to his mind and he knew he couldn't resist anymore. So he went to his dad's office to announce he won't be marry Lee Ji-Eun and that another woman fills all of his heart. But when he came back, he found you giggling with another man.
You storm into his office, harshly closing the door behind you.
"What is wrong with you?" You bark more than you ask
Namjoon looks at you with a unfazed eye. He is not impressed one bit by your temper. Actually, your small frame shivering in wrath is cute.
"Nothing" He replies with a dismissive voice that drives you crazy and he focuses on his computer again
You scoff and step closer, smacking your two palms on his large desk. The loud noise makes Namjoon look at you but his face stays neutral. This is very hard to do when your slightly bent over upper body offers him a great view on your boobs. Is your bra made out of silk? That seems so soft than Namjoon's fingers subtly brush his computer mouse while he imagines touching you. Of course, you have no clue of that.
"Spill it" You say between your teeth
"There is nothing to say, Y/N"
"Really? Because you've been ignoring me all week and now you're acting like an ass"
"Well, maybe you shouldn't have to be reminded you're at work when you flirt in front of my office"
"What?! I was not flirting!" You exclaim, completely taken aback
"Sure" Namjoon talks back with his jaws clenched
"Wait" You say, making Namjoon look into your eyes "Are you jealous?" You ask with narrow eyes
"Stop talking non-sense" But his reddenned cheeks speak otherwise
"Yes, you are" You insist as you get around his desk and place yourself next to him
"I am not" He whispers, drawing his eyes back to the screen
"Look at me" You say as you grab his cheeks with your thumb and forefinger
Your breathe is cut off one second. He is way too handsome. The whole atmosphere gets heavy and tensed but not in a negative way. His lips are right here, ready to be kissed and you so fucking want it. You would like to ride his pretty face to make him pay for ignoring you all week. Your heart beats louder and faster, and your body gets hotter. Some wetness gathers in your panties. You try to keep calm but your inside is messed up by Namjoon's hotness. You gulp.
Your brain turns off the second Namjoon stands up and kisses you harshly. He moves so fast that you can't react. It doesn't really matter because you don't want to push him away. His pulp lips are so soft that you moan against them. Namjoon grabs the back of your head to kiss you deeper, his other hand presses against your lower back. You can feel his bulge and your pussy gets wetter.
Namjoon starts attacking your neck, pressing rough kisses on your throat. You're quite sure you'll have hickeys tomorrow. Your hands run through his short hair to pull him closer. Namjoon's delicate fingers work on your shirt to open it. He harshly squeezes your boob through the cup of your bra, making you wince in delight. He smiles when he confirms that it was a silk fabric, so soft under his fingers. Then, he drag down your bra, just enough to free your hard nipples. His mouth captures your sensitive tits and you throw your head back under the pleasure. You feel his teeth gently bite them and it's delightedly painful. Are you ready letting your boss tease your nipples with his tongue in his office? You're crazy. Too bad you don't give a fuck right now.
"I've dreamt about that ever since I ripped your fucking blouse" Namjoon groans between the licks he gives to your nipples
He is soft despite his harsh moves. It's almost like he wants to punish you and adore you at the same time.
Once he is satisfied with the swelling of your breasts and the little reddish marks he created on your skin, he pushes you against his desk, turns you over and finally bends you over. The cold material against your heated skin makes you shiver. You have never imagine Namjoon being so dominant but fuck! you love it. Your perfect ass is at full display for him. Only him. He slaps your cheek and the slight burn is so good that your pussy clenches.
"You drive me crazy" Namjoon whispers so low that you barely hear him but you could say exactly the same since your brain is completely fogged by horniness
He pulls up your tight skirt, exposing your cunt and ass only covered by your white — and now soaked — panties. The cold air on your burning skin mixed with the possibility of someone entering his office is so sinful that you could cum right now. The biggest wave of arousal you've ever experienced washes over you. All that caused by your boss.
The view of your ass makes Namjoon painfully hard in his pants. Fuck, he could ruin you, right now, in his office. He wants to make you scream his name while he pounds into your pussy, and if this Jungkook guy hears you, it's even better.
Namjoon kneels down and you can feel his breathing on your skin. Since you can't see him, you're even more focus on physical contacts. He first kisses your asscheek and starts rubbing your clit through the thin fabric of your panties with his thumb, making you gasp of pleasure.
"I want to eat you out" He says with a raspy voice, indirectly asking for your consent
Just imagining it makes a choked moan escape your lips and you nod frenetically. Namjoon smirks at your neediness. You're craving for his touch and he loves it. Does that mean that you want him as much as he wants you?
He wastes no time and push your panties aside. Your glistening cunt is so pretty. Seeing your arousal, caused by him, all over your pussy boosts his ego. He dives into it, taking a large strap of your juices. He applies the right amount of pressure on your clit with his tongue. It's so good that you moan his name. You feel high on horniness. Your pussy clenches when Namjoon roughly grabs your two asscheeks to spread them, giving him more access to your dripping cunt. You look so desperate, so submissive. You are fucking bent over his desk and he is eating your pussy. He fucking loves it. He didn't know how much he wanted to see you like this until now and he is not ready to stop.
"Fuck" You choke up, your right hand making its way to his hair and pulling him closer
"My girl is needy, uh? She loves when I eat her pretty cunt, right?" Namjoon teases against your pussy
How can he be so good with his mouth? His tongue licks, circles and sucks on your sensitive bud. You gasp for air when you feel your orgasm building inside you. It's true that you haven't been touched for a long time but you know damn well that if you'll cum soon it's essentially because of Namjoon's skills. He makes you feel so good, so alive that you wish you've let him touched you before. Why did you wait four years?
"I'm gonna cum" You say in a whimper
Instantly, Namjoon pulls away and stands up, making you wince.
"Namjoon!" You gasp in surprise, disappointment and frustration — you knew it would have been a great orgasm
You turn your head to meet his satisfied smirk. He looks like a predator with his lips, nose and chin glistening of your juices. The sight is so hot and you could appreciate it if he didn't deny your orgasm.
"You'll cum around my cock like a good girl" His voice is so deep and his words so naughty that your walls tighten around nothing "But first, I have to prep you" Namjoon gets closer to your ear to whisper "I wouldn't want to slit you in two"
He looks so confident, but his cock couldn't be so big, right? You don't have time to think about because two fingers slip inside your pussy. The slight stretching is so good you could cry. Namjoon penetrates you at the right pace, making sure your walls get expanded enough not to hurt you with his dick. His goal is not really to give you pleasure — even though he does. You mutter your moans with your hand as you feel his digits going in and out into you. They are making a mess out of your dripping pussy.
Once Namjoon thinks you're ready enough, he takes off his fingers out of you. They are completely glistening with your arousal and he smirks of how wet you are for him. He guides his hand towards your face and you blush when you witness how much of a pool you have between your legs.
"Open your mouth" Namjoon orders and you do
He pushes his fingers between your lips and you taste yourself. You use your tongue to clean his digits and it's so fucking hot that you feel some arousal leaking down your thighs, making you shiver.
"Good girl" Namjoon praises you, then putting those same fingers into his mouth to taste both your juices and your saliva and it's making you clench
The eye he is giving you is totally filled with lust. His eyes are so intense, you have never felt so sexy, so wanted. Your cheeks redden even more and you can't wait to feel him inside you. Your arousal is written all over your face and pussy. Namjoon wishes you could see youself like that: completely desperate for his cock. He drags down his pants and boxers at the same time, freeing his dick. And fuck. Your eyes widen for the greatest delight of Namjoon. He is big. Huge. Definitely the biggest dick you've ever seen. His fat cock, hard and proud, stands a few inches away from your pussy and you wonder how can it fit. You gulp and Namjoon laughs at your reaction.
"My girl can take it" He says to ease you, kissing your cheeks
My girl. Why does his possessiveness make you wet? You want to be his, even just for a moment, even just while he fucks you. You are pretty sure that you could let him do whatever he wants with your body right now.
Namjoon gives himself a few pumps and guides his length to your entrance. You moan when you feel his tip against your pussy. You mouth opens and your eyes shut down while Namjoon slowly pushes himself into you. It's not really difficult considering how wet you are. His two big hands settle on your hips, tightly. He is so big that you feel your pussy getting stretched. A lot. It's almost painful but it's so fucking good. He completely fills you up and you love it.
"So big" You groan, grabbing his forearm with one hand for dear life, the other one trying to catch onto something
"You're so fucking tight. Your little pussy feels so good around my cock"
Namjoon starts pounding, not so gently and enhances the pace just after a few seconds. He's rough. He lets out all the frustration of the week. Thankfully, the fabric of his pants creates a barrier between your skins that mutters the sinful sound of clapping. Namjoon tightens his grip on your hips to enter you deeper and faster. Each single bumping causes you to hit his desk, shaking everything that is on it. Your moans are so loud that if someone goes by the hallway, they'll hear you. You attempt to mute yourself by biting your lip but you don't do a really good job at it.
Your pussy gets tighter as your orgasm comes closer. Namjoon feels it and guides one of his hand around your neck to pull your back against his chest. The change of angle makes his huge cock find your g-spot. You whimper at the surprise and delight but it's so much to take, you're not sure you'll get through this alive, especially when he doesn't slow his pace one bit.
"Right here, right here!" You scream despite your choked throat, overwhelmed by the sensation of Namjoon's fat dick hardly hitting the perfect area
Your legs are so weak that he has to wrap his other arm around your waist to support your body. Between his arms, you look small and fragile although he is ramming you hardly. Namjoon's hand on your throat presses softly and you feel his heavy breathe into your ear. Your ass gets slapped by his abs at each harsh pounding. You've never been fucked so roughly and yet, you love it.
"Be mine" He says so lowly that you're not sure of you imagined it
"What?" Your eyes open in astonishment, your breathe cut off
"Be mine, Y/N" He repeats so desperately and your heart melts at the same time than your pussy
You cum so hard that you can't even let a sound leaves your open mouth. Your legs shake so much that Namjoon has to slow his pace but makes sure to stay entirely inside you. You're out of breathe and completely shaken by the fact that your boss just made you cum — the best orgasm of your life — and by his words. You slowly settle down from your high but Namjoon's cock sliding in your cunt makes you hungry again. A few second after you've cummed, you're ready for another orgasm.
"Answer me" Namjoon orders with a harsh tone that matches his harsh poundings, accentuating his words with a strong slap on your ass
"I'm yours" You moan, your eyes watering
Two big and round tears roll down your cheeks because of the harsh and delightful spanking but also because you have confessed something that you've kept so difficulty to yourself for weeks.
Namjoon tenderly kisses your wet cheek and his hand leaves your throat to caress your jaw. Fuck, he was so afraid you'd say no. His heart was pounding in his chest, and not only from his physical efforts. Now that he knows you both share feelings, he wants to fuck you deeper, just to show you how much he cares about you. Your tits bounce under his tamping.
"You're taking me so good. You're so perfect" He growls "My girl..."
"Joon" You moan, your hand going up to grab his hair, making him groan
You get, once again, so close to your high. Your pussy clenches around Namjoon's cock and he smirks. The hand that secures your waist goes down and starts rubbing your clit. It's too much for you. It's painfully delightful. The sensation is overwhelming, you almost faint out of pleasure.
"Cum around me, baby"
It's all you needed. You cum for the second time, screaming his name. The way his name rolls on your tongue when you're cumming makes Namjoon's cock twitch inside you.
"Fuck, I love you" He whispers, eyes shut down and his face coiling into your neck
Your heart is doing backflips in your chest. Namjoon loves you. Your eyes gets more watery, an overwhelming feeling of affection and love you both share is washing over you.
He gives you a few more dick strokes and hot shots of thick cum are spread on your walls. He is panting. His shirt is now completely sticked by sweat to his chest but he doesn't care. Your shaking frame is wrapped by his strong arms and he hugs you tight while his cock softens inside you. Your hands caress his forearms and your head rests on his shoulder. It's a peaceful moment after the rough fucking you've shared. You're so tired but so light at the same time. Your heart could jump out of your chest from happiness.
"I love you too, Joonie" You whisper after a few seconds of silence
You feel Namjoon smiles against your neck. He pulls out of your pussy, causing his cum to drip. He quickly pushes it back into your cunt with his fingers and you find it so hot. He replaces your panties correctly to secure it. Yeah, he could be your baby daddy and by the playful look in his eyes, you quite have the feeling he is thinking about the exact same thing.
"It's my gift" He teases you and you blush
He quickly puts back his dick into his pants and helps you with your clothes. Namjoon doesn't stop kissing your forehead, your nose, your cheeks and your lips. You giggle like a teenager when you feel so loved. You lift your eyes and meet his beautiful brown ones. They are so tender while they're looking at you.
"Let's go out for diner, I want to take my girl on a date"
"I'm your girl now?" You twit him
"Of course!" Namjoon replies as he softly captures your cheeks with his large and warm palms "You said you were mine. You can't go back now"
You smile at him, not wishing one bit to undo the tie that now links you to Namjoon. You look at his cute dimples that you can now kiss every time you want and this silly thought provides you so much joy that you wonder how you could have lived without it for four years.
Ever since Taehyung heard you and Jungkook going at it late at night, it never left his mind. His mind clouded with thoughts, imaginations, dreams—even wishes. And because of having no control of resitance, he needed to touch himself. But he didn’t expect what would happen next once he did.
ᝰ pairings ➜ idol!jungkook x f!reader x idol!taehyung
ᝰ words ➜ 6.3k (23 min)
ᝰ cw ➜ bts dorm era, secret relationship, threesome, mentions of sexual content, explicit content, pwp, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), blowjob, face fucking, cowgirl, dirty talk, mini oneshot
Taehyung was never one to get aroused by a girl easily. Especially not by his own member’s secret girlfriend. But when he heard you from the other side of the wall as Jungkook fucked you senseless? He knew he was fucked the second he felt his dick grow inside his pants.
He knew it was wrong. He knew he should just sleep it off instead of staying up to eavesdrop on you two having sex. He knew he shouldn’t even be aroused about it in the first place.
But apparently, his dick seemed to disagree.
When Taehyung slowly gave up and shoved his hand inside his boxers, he was surprised to feel precum already coming out of the tip of his cock.
He bit his lip, closing his eyes as he started palming the tip. He listened to the both of you from the other room as he played with himself. It’s so perverted. But he couldn’t stop.
He continued, listening closely to the situation happening in the other room. He heard your moans and Jungkook’s grunts mixing together. To Taehyung, that seemed like a bunch of harmonies singing in his ears.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He heard Jungkook groan out. Followed by more of your breathy moans, whining Jungkook’s name over and over again like a prayer.
He jerked his hips up, pushing inside his hand that subconsciously tightened around his dick while he was stroking it up and down. Imagining it was you. Your pussy. Your walls. Clenching warmly around him.
He surpressed his moans all while doing so, he didn’t dare to get caught right now. Not while he was picturing you and Jungkook having sex. Not while he was touching himself with closed eyes. Not while he was openly listening to the both of you like an ASMR video helping him get off.
“Please—Koo, gonna cum” Koo. That sounded so fucking cute coming out of your mouth. Taehyung thought. He’s heard you call Jungkook that before, many times. Heck, he even teased Jungkook about it with the other members.
But this? It hit so differently.
You were calling Jungkook a cute endearment while he was balls deep inside of you. Pounding like an animal with an inhumane pace. And he wondered—if he was fucking you, would you shorten his name too?
The imagination clouded his mind, picturing you on his bed while he’s inside of you. Whispering sweet nothings to him as he fucked you desperately.
“Tae—Fuck. You feel so good.” He imagined you moaning out. Causing a small moan to escape his own lips. And from the side of the room, he imagined Jungkook. Masturbating as Taehyung fucked his girlfriend on his bed.
He continues imagining, with Jungkook walking towards him. Jungkook grabbed one of his hands and guided it to his cock, gesturing him to stroke it for him. “That’s right, Tae… Fuck.” Jungkook groans, throwing his head back. Honorifics be damned.
Jungkook calling him without addressing him as the older brother—it turned Taehyung on. More than he thought it would.
Taehyung was going wild. Feral, almost. His own imaginations edging him close. Until he snapped back to reality and heard Jungkook from the other room.
“Gonna cum, baby. Fucking take it—take it like the good fucking girl you are.”
He himself spills on his hand that’s been gripping almost painfully around his cock too, slipping a low groan out of his mouth when he does. He stays silent for a hot minute, eyes still closed.
Until he opened his eyes, post-nut clarity hitting him hard. He had just listened to the both of you having sex, it shouldn’t have had turned him on. But it did. Because he just came embarrassingly hard from the thought of you both in his room.
-
Few days have passed, all BTS members were rehearsing on stage for their comeback performance. Everyone wore casual, practice clothes. Jungkook, who’s been oblivious to Taehyung’s repeating glances, was wearing his usual black oversized shirt and black sweatpants.
Taehyung hasn’t been able to stay still ever since the night he heard you two. He kind of started regretting that he stayed up for it, honestly. Because now? His mind’s wrapped up all around the thought of it.
When they started rehearsing, Taehyung kept making small mistakes. It was obvious that something was bothering him. Everyone noticed this every time he made a mistake and apologized to everyone. Jimin, his best friend, walks up to him while they were on water break.
“Taehyung-ah” He called out, placing a hand on his teammate’s shoulder. With a concerned look on his face, he asks. “What’s up with you? Are you alright?”
Taehyung saw the worried eyes his best friend had, he smiled a little and nodded his head. “I’m alright, just tired I guess. I’ve been sleeping late lately.” He explained.
That was true. His insomnia developed because of that night. Every night, all he could think of was how loud you were around Jungkook. How impactful Jungkook’s words were.
Jimin hesitates for a second, but nodding it off. Understanding that his best friend might’ve been having trouble sleeping again. “Just make sure to keep your body healthy. It’s okay to make mistakes.” Jimin assures with a smile on his face, which makes Taehyung smile too.
Jungkook notices them from a distance. He jogs over, stopping just beside Taehyung. “Hyung, are you okay?” He sighs out with his big, doe eyes looking into Taehyung’s.
Taehyung stilled, his mind painted with a flashback.
“That’s right, Tae… Fuck.”
Taehyung immediately shrugs the thought off of his mind, cheeks turning pink. “Um, yeah. I’m—I’m fine.” He managed to stutter out.
“He said he’s been sleeping late these days.” Jimin cuts in, looking at Jungkook. Jungkook raised a brow at this, hand reaching up to Taehyung’s neck.
“Why, hyung? Is there something bothering you?” Jungkook asks as he massages Taehyung’s neck. It was normal. They all usually do this to each other. So it shouldn’t have affected him. But it does. It sent immediate heat all over his body, his body shuddering slightly with every press of Jungkook’s hand.
Jungkook noticed it. How Taehyung melted into his touch. How his body trembled minimally. How he closed his eyes, reacting to his touch. Jungkook furrows his brows at this, Taehyung never reacted to his neck massages. So why was he reacting like this now?
Taehyung, with this lips partly open, sighs out a small breathy moan. Which surprised himself. He opened his eyes to see Jungkook staring at him intently.
“Nothing, just—just..“ Taehyung’s voice trailed off. Surprised to see the sudden change in Jungkook’s eyes. “Couldn’t sleep properly. That’s all.” He explained.
Jungkook hummed in response, eyes squinting slightly. Jungkook didn’t seem to believe him. Jimin, however, was distracted enough by Jin and Yoongi joking with each other. He didn’t notice the intense tension Jungkook and Taehyung had while they stared at each other.
Taehyung was so nervous, he swore he was almost gonna fall down to his knees right then and there. Just because of Jungkook’s stare.
When Taehyung finally broke the eye contact and looked ahead, Jungkook stops the pressure of his hand. But he lets it rest there, on the back of his now sweating frozen teammate’s neck.
While Taehyung is obviously wary of Jungkook, an idea pops into the latter’s mind. Jungkook would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t curious about Taehyung’s reactions to his touch. That heat wasn’t secretly creeping up all over his senses. So, he tries to test it. Test Taehyung.
Taehyung’s breath hitched as he felt the hand that was resting on his neck leave and travel down his spine. His eyes widened a bit, body nearly arching from the touch. And he realized what Jungkook was doing.
He was caressing him. Touching him. Slowly.
As if telling him one thing: Feel my touch and give me another reaction.
And Taehyung does give him a reaction. By the time Jungkook’s hand reached just above his waistband, he felt a press right there. Taehyung almost threw his head back, lips parting again. His breath quickened evidently.
As if one press wasn’t enough, Jungkook experimentally inserts two of his fingertips inside his waistband. And he tugs it like a slingshot.
Taehyung grips his mic hard, gulping harshly from what Jungkook just did. He was losing his sanity. A million questions and thoughts running through his mind. Because why was Jungkook doing this?
And Jungkook? He’s been smirking smugly the entire time. Seeing his older member shiver from his touch, it amused him in ways he didn’t know it would. He started to enjoy teasing Taehyung like this.
Before Jungkook could tease him even more, one of the staff members yelled out that they were done for the day. A cue for them to go home and rest. Taehyung, who heard it clearly, finally lets out a sigh. Relieved that he can finally escape Jungkook and the tension that was circling around them.
But just as he was about to leave, Jungkook tugs his waistband just one more time. Making Taehyung catch another breath. He pats Taehyung’s back, leaning to his ear.
“Saved by the bell.” Jungkook whispers sweetly before leaving him alone, swinging an arm around Hoseok with a smile so innocent you wouldn’t even suspect what he was doing to Taehyung seconds ago.
Taehyung was flabbergasted. He stood there in shock and in pure confusion. Jungkook’s small whisper repeating in his head. Saved by the bell? What does he mean by that?
Taehyung snaps from his thoughts when Jimin calls him over. So he shrugs off his thoughts, for now. Jogging to Jimin so they could go home too.
-
When everyone got back at the dorm, Taehyung was genuinely surprised to see you standing in the living room. In his head, you were the last person he wanted to see right now. But in his heart, he knew he wanted to see you so fucking much.
You greet the boys happily, smiling and waving. Jungkook rushed to you, smiling widely. He carried you up, twirling you around like you two were in a movie. And when he puts you down, he wasn’t done. He smothered your face with kisses, hugging your waist tightly.
He cups your face, finally pressing his lips into yours. All the members started to groan, nose scrunching in disgust. But Taehyung? He was watching in awe. He didn’t even notice he was staring intently at the two of you practically making out in front of them.
You were a little small, so your heel was off the floor. You stood on your tiptoes to try and match your tall boyfriend’s level. Humming contently as you both kissed. Jungkook smiled, leaning more to deepen the kiss you both were sharing. His grip on your waist tightening just a tad bit.
And for a second, Taehyung was stuck in his own fantasy again. Seeing you two together couldn’t help the thoughts invading his mind. Would you stand on your tiptoes too if he kissed you? Would Jungkook smile in the kiss they’d share too? Would you ruffle his hair too? Would Jungkook lean in deeper too?
“Okay slow down there, kangaroo. We’re still in the room.” Taehyung is back to reality when he heard Jin complain to the two. Jungkook only pulls back with a smug grin on his face, biting his lip.
“Are you staying here for the night again, Y/N?” Namjoon asks, putting his bag down on the sofa and turns to you. You nodded in response, finally letting go of your clingy boyfriend. “Heard today was your last rehearsal, so I cooked dinner for you guys.”
All the members exclaimed, feet already moving to the kitchen for the food you cooked. Jungkook hugged you from behind, smothering your shoulders with soft kisses as the members left one by one. He mumbled a small “thank you” before turning you around to face him.
With a quiet, seductive whisper, you lean to his ear with a knowing grin. “You can thank me better later.” Jungkook instantly gets the message, hands traveling down to your ass to squeeze it gently. When he looks up from you, he notices Taehyung who definitely had just seen him cupping his girlfriend’s ass.
His hands are so big.. it fits her round butt perfectly. He thinks. He coughs awkwardly, touching his nape and charges his phone by the TV. He found his thoughts weird himself, and it was a pain that it wouldn’t leave his head.
Jungkook scoffs at Taehyung’s obvious awkwardness with an intrigued smile on his face. You notice this, and your eyes follow his own eyes’ view. You make immediate eye contact with Taehyung as he turned back around to face you two.
He looks awkward. Did he see us? You ask yourself. But you already know he did. Jungkook’s hands hadn’t left your ass. It stayed there, massaging you softly right in front of another member. For a second, Taehyung’s eyes moved from yours to your ass then back to yours. With your lips curling upwards, you ask him without breaking eye contact. “Like what you see, Tae?”
Tae. As soon as Taehyung heard that nickname leave your mouth, he heard something again.
“Tae—Fuck. You feel so good.” He heard you, moaning in his ear sweetly.
Taehyung slightly shivered, the thought hitting his mind again made his blood boil. Not out of anger, but out of pure heat.
Then he blinks, returning to the real world again. The real world where you and Jungkook were standing in front of him, clinging onto each other as both your attention focused on him. Taehyung mutters a soft “huh?” to pretend he didn’t just hear what you just asked him.
Because honestly? Fuck yeah. He liked it. He liked the view a lot right now.
You just giggle at him, along with Jungkook who was smiling at his hyung’s meekness. Taehyung just swore he heard heaven when your giggles injected into his ears. With a small smile and a soft chuckle, Taehyung asks “what why?” as he gauchely scratches his head.
Jungkook shakes his head, walking to Taehyung while pulling you by the waist. He pats Taehyung’s back and gestures him off to the kitchen with his head. “Let’s just go and eat.” Jungkook laughs off as the three of you walk in the kitchen.
-
The whole dinner was a blast unlike their usual nights. It’s not like they don’t have fun when they’re all together, but there was even more fun because you were there. It was always like that when you’re with them. The boys loved and adored you exactly like you were their 8th member. Not as much as Jungkook does though, of course.
Taehyung sighs on his bed after pushing his door just slightly to keep it shut but not entirely closed, finally relaxing after a very tense day. He stares up the ceiling with a hand resting against the back of his head, his other hand placed on his chest.
Since his mind wasn’t as loud as it usually was, he closed his eyes. Finally attempting to relax and sleep. His body shifted and tossed around the bed a few times, trying to find a more comfortable position.
After a while, Taehyung started drifting off to sleep. With his whole body and mind finally at peace, he enters dreamland in an instant.
-
Taehyung has been peacefully sleeping with no any disruptions. When all of a sudden, he wiggles in his sleep. He opens his eyes slowly, starting to wake himself up. And once he gained consciousness, he felt something. Something weird. Something good. Something wet.
He wonders what the feeling was, scrubbing his eyes to wait for his eyes to clarify his vision. And when his vision finally returned, he looks down. Taehyung widens his eyes, gasping sharply at the sight in front of him.
“Y-Y/N..?” He stutters out. You were there. Right in front of him.
You looked up with a smirk, humming. Around his monster of a cock. Taehyung swore he was about to burst right then and there, but he was so confused. Because why were you there? Why were you doing this? Sucking him fully into your mouth?
A million questions ran through his head while he watched your head bob up and down on his dick. But when he turned his head to the side, he saw Jungkook standing right beside him. Hand lazily stroking his cock with a smug smirk on his face. Taehyung’s eyes went wide—eyeballs almost popping out.
Jungkook places one knee on his bed, leaning closer. He kisses Taehyung’s neck, licking the side playfully, while still playing with his tip. Taehyung was almost in ecstasy. Everything was overwhelming.
“F-Fuck.. what the fuck.” Taehyung cursed in absolute pleasure. The feeling, the situation—it all felt like a dream. A dream he’d been wishing for. A dream he wanted to fulfill. A dream he needed to become a reality.
Taehyung was so lost in his thoughts—mostly from the fact that the two people are all over him like leeches. He was so, so close to releasing what he needed to spurt out. Until you both stopped.
He rose his head, staring at the two of you in confusion. You just grinned, amused. And you lean down to whisper right against his ear:
“Wake up, Taehyung.”
-
If dreams were supposed to make you wake up in absolute terror and nearly crack the bed as you sit your body up all in the middle of the night, Taehyung would agree to stop dreaming ever again. Because what the hell was that?
It was just a dream. Of course. Not a reality. Not in this reality, at least. But the pleasure felt so real, Taehyung almost cried just by remembering every detail. The way your mouth moved, the way Jungkook hovered over him, the way you both groan into your lips just to send the adrenaline rush throughout his whole body.
All that was just a fucking dream?
Taehyung, with his raging boner, rubs his face in frustration. He falls back with an audible squeak from the bed—a squeak he’s never had the chance to fix yet. He closes his eyes with hands still placed over his face.
He tries to ignore it—tries to fall asleep. But the silence was too loud. And so were his own thoughts. His imaginations.
All he could hear was your moans. Jungkook's filthy words. Your screams of Jungkook’s name. The sounds of skin slapping, bed creaking, grunts and sighs repeating again and again in his mind.
So, to get rid of the heat that kept creeping up to his dick, he needed to touch himself. Immediately.
He doesn’t even recognize the way he moves, because he moved too quick that even he was impressed. With one drag of his waistband and one kick to pull it off completely from his body, his angry cock sprung up. The cold air suddenly slapping it caused Taehyung to groan.
It was already so wet, Taehyung didn’t need anything else to help him touch himself comfortably. He wraps his hand around the base, immediately starting with a fast pace.
He imagined you two again—hovering over him like you did in his dream. He imagined the way you let your tongue play with every active vein visible on his dick. He imagined how adventurous Jungkook is with his free hand, exploring his body bit by bit.
This was so dangerous, but Taehyung liked it. He liked it a little too much.
With his thoughts and the heat mixing together, he unconsciously lets out a moan. But it’s not just any moan—it was your name.
With his eyes closed and his hand tightening around his thick cock, he moans your name out loud. Like a desperate plea. A call for help. He’s pretty sure someone might’ve heard him, but he couldn’t care about it at the moment.
What he didn’t know? You were right outside his door. Walking from the bathroom where you just came from. And of course, what made you stop in your tracks, you heard him. You furrowed your eyebrows at this, curiosity filling your brain instantly.
You debate with your thoughts for a second. You know you shouldn’t. But it was your name, so a little look wouldn’t hurt right?
With that thought in your head, you move. You turn towards his door that was slightly ajar, finally taking a peek. Then you saw him—Taehyung. He was gripping the sheets, biting his lip, thrusting into his tight hand with eyes closed. Then he does it again.
“Oh, Y/N.. oh fuck.”He moans your name sweetly.
Jungkook, who was waiting for you to return, left his room next to Taehyung’s to check on you. He saw you standing by Taehyung’s door, lips parted slightly. Your eyes were wide enough to display shock on your face.
“Baby?” Jungkook called out in a whisper. You whip your head, looking at Jungkook without your wide eyes leaving your expression. You motioned him to come over.
Jungkook was confused. But he obeyed anyway. And when you move a bit so he could lean in, he’s met with Taehyung’s moans. Not just of your name anymore, but moans of Jungkook’s name as well.
You both stare in shock, eyeing each other for a moment. As if you were questioning each other about the view you’re taking in.
Unbeknownst to Taehyung, he didn’t even feel the couple who’s been watching him intently. He was too busy feeling himself. Too busy groaning, whining, cursing, moaning Jungkook’s and your name repeatedly.
If there was an award for having the quickest speed and amazing stamina for just jacking off, Taehyung thinks he would’ve walked up to receive that on stage with no shame. Because even he was surprised by his own pace.
With a few more pumps here and there, all while thinking of your hot mouth wrapped around him as he imagines Jungkook pushing his monstrous cock inside his mouth, whispering “Taking me so well.” sweetly into his ear which makes you groan as you constrict around his length, he finally cums.
And God knows how much he has came, because it splatters all over him and his sheets which he hates to think about cleaning right now.
Apparently, You and Jungkook know it too.
Taehyung finally relaxes his body as he sighs, hand falling from his still hard dick to beside his hips. He doesn’t see the movement of the door pushing open. He doesn’t hear the soft footsteps nearing closer to his bed. He’s completely oblivious to the two grins plastered on the couple’s faces along with eyes almost furious from desire.
Taehyung thought he’d finally relax, with his thoughts shutting down thankfully. But a touch jolts him awake, body reacting fully. When he pops his eyes open, he sees you. Holding his dick. Smiling up at him.
Was this another dream? Was he imagining this again?
But no, it felt so real. Because the next second, you take his dick closer to your mouth only to kiss the tip and lick a long stride of his girth afterwards. Taehyung’s body tenses up again, his focus staying solely on you.
He whines audibly when you finally take him into your mouth, sucking it in so deep that it hits the back of your throat. His weak hand merely makes it to your hair. But when it does, he grips it with all his strength.
“Y/N—your mouth—fuck.” Taehyung groans out loud, voice cracking slightly. He throws his head back, eyes rolling to back of his head as you play with his balls as you continue sucking him repeatedly. He was still highly sensitive from his orgasm just almost a minute ago. All of this, everything you were doing, felt so much for him.
Taehyung, with his brows furrowed, asks you with all his might and with a shaky voice. “Does—shit. Does Jungkook know.. you’re here?” He gulps out. Because as much as what you’re doing felt good, he didn’t actually want to upset his younger member. He doesn’t want to hurt Jungkook, especially not like this.
But as if on cue, a voice emerges from beside him. “He knows.” Taehyung whips his head straight to the voice, he swore his head almost snapped right off from his neck. And when his vision clears like a camera lens focusing on its target, he sees Jungkook walking towards him in just his stupidly hot calvin klein underwear. Not to mention his also enraged boner that could make his tight underwear rip any second.
Jungkook smirks when Taehyung whimpers, eyes shaking. He was scared, confused, but most of all—very aroused. And that was obvious. “Jungkook.. fuck.” Taehyung bites his lip, unable to process. Jungkook was standing right beside him, his boner practically kissing his face. But also, you were blowing him like it was the end of the fucking world.
Who wouldn’t fucking lose their mind over that?
“Look at you, Tae..” Jungkook whispers. Eyebrows almost kissing each other as he examined his older member and his trembling body. Taehyung almost wails at the nickname—it was a hidden trigger for him and his past imaginations with Jungkook. But of course, this wasn’t hidden anymore by the way Jungkook’s expression evidently painted with amusement.
“Oh you like that? Like it when I don’t address you formally, hm?” Taehyung feels two fingers rush to his clothed nipple, tugging and pinching it. His back arches at that, surprising you a bit because it made his dick slam deeper into your mouth. And you moan aloud when he does, sending vibrations all throughout his girth. Jungkook watches you both, genuinely amused. “You’re trembling from my touch, and from my girlfriend’s mouth. Are you not ashamed at all, Taehyung?”
Taehyung wails, a sharp breath inhaling through his lungs. “N-No.. I am.” He whispers under his breath, hands gripping the sheets and your hair tighter than ever, heat rushing through every inch of his body as Jungkook focuses on his nipple. “Didn’t—fuck!—didn’t mean to... hah” He closes his eyes, nearing his high.
“Didn’t mean to, huh? Just accidentally thought to jack off one night while your door was open, moaning both our names?” Jungkook slyly mumbles with his hot voice. He leans down, biting Taehyung’s ear as his hand travels to his throat. Other hand finally palming his neglected boner through his underwear.
For a moment, you pop your mouth off Taehyung’s dick with a smirk. “Good thing I heard you, Tae. Wouldn’t have gotten a chance to suck this dick if I didn’t.” You smirk, kissing the tip once again. You jack him off with your hand. Fast. Tight. Quick. Ready to make him spill.
Taehyung groans from all the touches—the attention. His hand goes from the sheets to Jungkook’s hair, other one thrashing around nothing.
“You gonna cum, Tae?” You whisper, staring intently at him as your hand doesn’t falter the movements you continued. Jungkook smiles against his ear, chuckling lowly. “Gonna cum for us both baby?” he adds after you.
You pick up the pace even more. Except now, you lean down right near the tip of his dick. And Taehyung wasn’t prepared for what comes next. Because he could barely register the moment, yet you let your tongue slip through your lips, just to lick his tip like a fucking lollipop as you pumped him up and down.
Taehyung loses it right then and there. As Jungkook bites on his ear hard—he spills with a loud moan against your tongue. His cum gushing out immediately only for it to land on your face, the sheets, and on the side of his spent cock.
You giggle. Tasting his release, savoring it like it’s honey. You let out a quiet hum, satisfied, before you climb on top of him after removing your clothes. Except your panties.
Taehyung swore he saw a goddess right before him. Because God did your body look so perfect. His eyes are barely open, but his focus never falters on you. He doesn’t know what you were planning to do. Which only worsens his obvious arousal.
Jungkook stands away, not too far. Still right next to him. Enough distance to watch you both closely. He takes his own underwear off, letting his savage cock finally spring free.
Then, he slowly realizes your intentions. You position your wet underwear right on top of his embarrassingly hard dick. With a small sigh, you drag the length of his cock along your clothed folds. You both almost moan in unison.
“So good.. holy fuck.” He moans out, hips jerking up in hopes of feeling it again. You watch his movements with a grin, biting your lip at how desperate Taehyung looked. “You like this so much, don’t you?” You push your hips down, finally meeting his eager upward thrust. “Bet you dreamt about this. About us.”
Taehyung could only nod, lost in ecstasy. Lost in the truth too.
Jungkook can see how much strength Taehyung still has with holding back. He found it cute. He knew Taehyung clearly wanted to be inside you already, but he also knew Taehyung was still scared to cross that line.
Well, you were Jungkook’s girlfriend after all. Of course he was.
Jungkook breaks the silence among the harmonized grunts and moans you both slipped out of your lips. “You wanna fuck her, Tae?” He walks over, pushing your hips down harshly. Which makes the two of you curse and tremble like little bitches.
Again, Taehyung could only nod. Frantically this time. Slowly, Jungkook takes his hand and guides it to your soaked panties. He leans down to whisper near Taehyung, also to take in the view of his girlfriend’s cunt. “Pull it aside, she likes being fucked with it on.”
You whine from Jungkook’s instructions, butterflies practically screaming inside your stomach because he remembers. Because he knows. Taehyung obeyed almost immediately, gawking at the sight of your now exposed—wet pussy in front of his eyes.
“Tae—please.. Koo..” You moan for both of them. It probably sounded like heaven to both their ears. Jungkook smiles. Cooing at the sight of his needy girlfriend. “You’ll get what you want baby. Right, Taehyung?”
Taehyung’s eyes don’t leave your cunt. And he doesn’t give Jungkook an answer. As if distracted, he lines you up on his dick, and pushes in with no hesitation.
And you? You were surprised as hell. This was new, because it wasn’t Jungkook. It wasn’t your boyfriend. Instead, it was his hot member. It was Taehyung. And fuck did the rawness and unfamiliar feeling turn you on.
Jungkook, amused and aroused by Taehyung’s actions, licks his lips at the sight. He hums, seeing you sink down Taehyung’s dick, satisfied as if he was watching the Mona Lisa being painted.
He drags his hand over his own veiny cock, grunting alone as you finally take Taehyung fully inside of you. His dick felt like it could burst just from seeing you thrash around nothing. Whimpering from the stretch of his older member’s girth.
And Taehyung? He’s having the best time of his life. Not only were you tightly wrapped around him warmly, Jungkook was also beside him playing with his poor massive cock.
He lets you take your time to adjust, before you start moving to jack his dick off with your glistening pussy. You both moan in unison, huffing together, as you bounced on him.
Taehyung watches you in awe. You had sweat all over your body, hair messy, tits bouncing like two huge balls with a chocochip in the middle. Taehyung uses one of his hand to cup your left breast, massaging it while tugging your nipple playfully.
When you let out a moan from his actions, he smirks. “Like it when I play with your tits like this, baby?” He coos. Other hand travelling to your bouncing ass.
You could only nod, hands reaching for Jungkook for support. Jungkook immediately understood and let you hold onto him. “Fucking slut. Can’t even fuck yourself properly.” Jungkook throws from his lips, a grin forming after. His harsh words were enough to make you cower, whimpering softly as you tried to continue.
Taehyung, who was nice enough because you were literally making his dream come true, used both his hands to stop you. And when you do, confused, he fucks you hard. Hands gripping your ass tightly as he thrusts himself up deep.
“Fuck! Tae—so g-good!” You can barely control your voice as you screamed in pleasure. Taehyung just picks up the pace, not even caring about shutting your loud mouth up. Because he likes it. He likes hearing you scream just for him. Scream just because of him.
Your grip on Jungkook’s shoulder tightens, his hand on his cock moved faster to match Taehyung’s pace. But he could tell even his hand was getting tired from jacking off all night, so he thought of an idea.
“Tae.” He calls out, earning a soft “hmm?” from Taehyung. Jungkook doesn’t say anything for the next 7 seconds. Instead, he holds Taehyung’s face in place, lining up his cock on Taehyung’s trembling lips.
Taehyung’s eyes widen softly, looking up to Jungkook. Jungkook only smirks as he looks down. “Think you can handle me, pretty boy?”
Taehyung only nods frantically, hips still snapping up and down consistently inside you. Jungkook took this as a sign to push his cock inside Taehyung’s mouth. And he groans. Loud. “That’s right, Tae… fuck.” He sighs out. Thrusting through his lips.
You focus your eyes on the sight you had below you, Taehyung with his pretty lips wrapped around your boyfriend while he was balls deep inside you. It was so, so lewd. And you loved it.
Jungkook leans down to you, capturing your lips in a sweet, very passionate kiss. You moan into each other’s mouths from ecstasy. Taehyung, who saw this, moans lovingly and sends vibrations to Jungkook’s dick.
As soon as Jungkook pulls away from the kiss to grip Taehyung’s hair and fuck his mouth harder, you find your own hands grabbing Taehyung’s torso for better support. “Tae—fuck. You feel so good.” You moaned out.
Taehyung’s brows furrows and closes his eyes from hearing that. Jungkook was even more impressed and turned on because Taehyung had no gag reflex. It drove him insane. “Fuck, Taehyung. Taking me so fucking well.” He grunts.
“Couldn’t fucking resist huh? You were moaning our names all alone in your room.” Jungkook talks, making Taehyung lose his sanity.
You continue Jungkook’s words, smiling down dangerously to Taehyung. “This is what you get for being so fucking needy for us, Tae. Take it all.”
Taehyung, who was overwhelmed, senses that he was going to cum anytime soon. He taps Jungkook’s thighs frantically, signaling. You notice this and immediately call it out.
“You cumming Tae?” Taehyung opens his eyes to look at you and tries to nod. You giggle lowly, nodding your head too. “I’m close too—hah..”
Jungkook throws his head back, groaning. “I’m fucking cumming too, shit.” He says as he fucks Taehyung’s mouth faster than ever. Chasing his high.
Taehyung’s hips didn’t give up either, hands practically digging into your skin as he nears his own high.
“C-Cumming! Fuck!” You scream as a warning, spilling against Taehyung’s rapid dick. You wail as he kept punishing your sweet sex.
Taehyung moans around Jungkook’s cock, thrusts growing more erratic. A sign that he was cumming any second.
Jungkook spills into his mouth with a low, deep growl. And Taehyung takes it all like an award he’s been working so hard for. He shuts his eyes tight from the taste, whimpering. Jungkook kisses his forehead after removing his own length from his mouth.
Taehyung swallows Jungkook’s cum after. To which, made Jungkook’s cock twitch at the sight. He grins, locking Taehyung’s lips with his own as he tastes himself from Taehyung’s mouth.
When he pulls away, he leans down to Taehyung’s ear to whisper: “Cum inside her, Taehyung.”
It wasn’t a request, nor a question. It was a demand. A demand that Taehyung would love to obey.
And finally—after a few more thrusts—he spills inside you. Hips snapping up harshly, as if pushing every ounce of his cum inside your sensitive cunt.
You both moan loudly from the feeling, you felt him filling you up to the brim. Taehyung swore he saw the bright stars shooting in his eyes, because fuck did that feel good.
You collapse on top of him, absolutely spent. Jungkook pats your back, kissing your shoulders while running his hand through Taehyung’s hair. He lays on the side of the bed as well, laying down with a sigh and a smile on his face.
You finally remove yourself from Taehyung, collapsing between them. Immediately, they spoon you. It made you giggle, to know that they both felt protective after what just happened.
Taehyung slowly lifts his head up to the two of you, with a slightly worried look on his face. “Wait.. don’t we need to talk about this?”
You and Jungkook chuckle together, witnessing Taehyung’s post-nut clarity. “You’re right, we do. But for now, I think we should rest.” Jungkook replies softly, hands carressing Taehyung’s arm on top of your torso.
You nod in agreement. You see Taehyung’s obvious concern expression, so you speak too. “It’s okay, Tae. We’ll figure it out first thing in the morning.”
Taehyung looke at you both for a hot minute, and finally breaks into a smile. Nodding, he slumps back into his pillow.
The three of you cuddled to sleep with smiles on your faces for the rest of the night. And there was only one thought that Taehyung had while falling asleep.
He was so glad he left his door open.
author’s notes 𖤝 IT’S FINALLY HEREE!! after a whole month i can’t believe i finally finished this 😭 i’m so so sooo sorry for taking so long. also! i might do another jk oneshot inspired by single’s inferno (iykyk) 👀 let me know what you think of this! hope you enjoyed reading <3
pairing: managing partner/lawyer!jungkook x spoiled brat!reader ft. namjoon
genre: strangers/lowkey one sided enemies to ?? idk bec you irk him, angst, smut, like slight fluff, infidelity au (jungkook has a girlfriend aand it's not you yet?)
wc: 7.3k
warnings: this is a series! so please visit the killlah (jjk) [series masterlist] for a tiny summary and some extra info !! sooo, in this chapter, you can expect: multiple (continuous) mentions and descriptions of throwing up, so if you're queasy,,, i'm sorry, it's like i couldn't stop once i started, much like our girl, so just power through this once for the plot. oc is a bit of a mean girl as usual, and dramatic.... entitled, a little jungkook-crazy obvi. its gonna get angsty as usualll,,,
!!extra disclaimer!! this is partially edited. the ending MIGHT seem a bit womp womp writing wise but trustttt i'll fix it soon it's edited!
The following morning, you feel awful. And you blame it all on Namjoon.
Had he not brought you to this fuckass island, you wouldn't have sat on a beach for a picnic. Had you not sat for a picnic on the beach, you wouldn't have been coerced into trying scallops. Had you not been forced into tasting scallops, you wouldn't have known how much you loved them, and you wouldn't have discovered how horribly allergic you were to (certain) shellfish (yet another thing you can’t have, no matter how much you crave it.)
During the dinner by the ocean, you began feeling lightheaded. You thought it was because of all the alcohol you'd consumed (after that mixology session.) Then you threw up bitter stomach acid in the sand, which Yoongi did flag as a tad concerning but nothing a good night’s sleep couldn’t fix.
However, while walking back to the resort, you suddenly collapsed.
You were told Jungkook was the one who first sprung into action and carried you all the way into the doctor's chambers.
You make a mental note to ask Namjoon for more details.
Since the resort was pretty secluded on a little island, they had a little clinic and a full-time medical staff for emergencies like yours. For more serious cases, they had the facilities to have patients airlifted to a hospital. Luckily, you weren’t in that much trouble.
Kinda sucks that you were unconscious when you were (physically) closest to Jungkook though. You can't believe you missed this good of an opportunity to feel him up.
You know he's got abs, you saw during dinner when Hyewon flashed everyone with them.
Sigh.
Soon, you think.
Namjoon spent the night by your side in a private hospital room, sleeping on an uncomfortable couch.
He felt guilty. Even though he couldn't have possibly prevented this, he felt responsible for you.
He also had to convince your brother to not fly to the island overnight.
Although you'd been told your allergic reaction was severe, it could've been a lot worse.
You don't seem to have realised how dangerous this could've potentially been because you're currently asking the resident doctor what a safe amount (of scallops) would be to consume.
The doctor only came up with vegan alternatives. Now, you've lost interest in her professional opinions.
After the doctor explains your antihistamine schedule to Joon, she leaves to attend to some kid’s jellyfish sting.
And then you playfully glower at your friend.
“Oh, you owe me biiiig for this.” You sing-song at Namjoon.
He doesn't really, you're just bored.
Namjoon grunts, “Yeah, yeah, I'll nurse you back to health. Need help washing up?”
You coyly flutter your eyes at him. You consider it because you really do need a good wash.
The ocean air has frizzed up your once silky hair. And your mouth felt disgusting. You’ve been fed a lot of water and other liquids so you don’t get dehydrated but the meds have left a strange aftertaste on your tongue.
A nurse comes in to take your IV out.
Namjoon winces as he watches the needle retract from your skin. What a baby.
“What?” You scoff at him, “Never done drip therapy before?”
He shakes his head. “I’d rather digest all the nutrients I need.” Then thoughtfully, he adds, “But I do enjoy acupuncture.”
“Oh, I never got the concept of that.” Your mom was big on this stuff though. Chinese medicine, ayurveda, herbs and stuff. Maybe that’s why you don’t care for it.
“I’ll take you to my guy, you might like it.” Namjoon suggests.
You think for a second as the nurse finishes cleaning you up. Then you settle, “Mm, nah, I’m not too keen on micro needles in me. If I don’t see the results right away, it’s not going to work for me.” You extend your foot towards him, indirectly asking for a massage.
As the nurse leaves, you catch her checking Namjoon out. But your friend was too focused on you.
Sucker.
“Where’s Yoongi… and stuff?” You wonder out loud.
Subtle, you think.
Namjoon eyes you suspiciously. “I think they’re at brunch.” - “Why aren’t you with them?”
“Because I’m here with you. Should I call Yoongi and stuff here instead?” He pulls on your toes.
“Ow. No.”
You thought they’d have flown out already. It’s like… half past eleven.
Hopefully, you’re about to be discharged soon.
The doctor wanted to monitor you for at least another hour. Then finally, you can head back to the mainland.
Ugh.
You really didn’t want to think about flying back though. If the meds don’t make you puke your guts out, flying in that crazy tin machine would definitely do the trick.
You turn over for a cat nap, patting the empty space behind for Joon to get in with you.
An hour later, when you’re finally out of the hospital room and back in your suite, you make Namjoon recount the events of last night. You know, for your general physician back home and your records and such.
“You know this doesn’t mean shit, right? He’s just better at navigating emergencies. This could’ve been any one of us and he’d react the same way.”
“Lalalalala.” You cover your ears with your fingers, refusing to accept it.
“You can’t be serious…” You hear Namjoon mutter something to himself.
Namjoon sighs to himself. “Fine. This is the last time though.”
Yay!
“Ok, once again, my knees buckled and I fell on my side and then?” You stare at Joon with big eyes, waiting for him to repeat his account of whatever went down for the- checks notes- fifth time.
“Then Jungkook ran over to you and wasted no time in rushing you to the doctor’s room.” Namjoon purposely skips over what you want to hear.
“No, no---” You whine and nudge him, “Tell me the part about the- you know!”
Namjoon throws his head back in frustration. “One last time and I’m out. I need to pack-” He takes a look around your messy room, “As do you.”
You wave a hand dismissively.
Robotically, he recites, “He crouched down, elevated your head on his knee, moved your hair out of your face, then cradled you supporting your head and neck and lifted you in his arms. And he almost ran to the lobby. He then reprimanded the receptionist later because she had panicked and failed to react as fast as one should’ve. Hopefully he hasn’t gone all Karen on her ass and gotten the managers involved.”
You bite your finger. Namjoon was a good narrator. He should totally do audiobooks.
Then frown at your misfortune.
Pfft. But Hyewon’s fucking lucky. Screw her. You still don’t understand how she managed to bag Jeon Jungkook.
You’re sure Hyewon might’ve had a lot of suitors. But what made Jeon Jungkook pick her?
You don’t know either of them all that well but you’re leaning to believe that Hyewon must have some God pussy for Jungkook to date her for as long as he has.
Or maybe he has a micro-penis…
Even if it is so, you want to find out through primary research. With your own two eyes.
They just don’t look right together.
This is a new feeling for you. Mild jealousy. No, that’s not right.
Specifically, mild jealousy over a man.
Yes.
Well, you've never tried to make a move on someone else’s partner before. Nor have you been even remotely this fixated on any man before.
This whole issue was uncharted territory for you.
You never had any opinions on women who did go for people’s boyfriends either. It’s on those men to hold their own. Like how in Christian mythology, in the garden of Eden, Eve was tempted by the serpent and then punished for eating the forbidden fruit.
Jungkook = Eve.
You = The forbidden fruit, hopefully. The serpent.
And Hyewon… You don’t particularly consider her anything. She means nothing to you. If anything, she’s like an annoying gnat. You don’t like or dislike her.
Or so you say.
Her presence bothers you. There’s nothing much to it.
“_____, we’re cutting too close to-” - “Ok, you can go.” You push Namjoon out the door.
You’re officially relieving him from _____ duty. He had done more than enough for you.
You hear faint warnings from behind the door about a time constraint till you have to check out.
You sigh. Right.
You’ve only just showered and you need to track down all your belongings so you could finally get the hell out of here.
Also! To your surprise (and delight,) Namjoon informed you that they managed to book a yacht. And instead of a 20-30 minute journey, it’d be a 2-3 hour thing. But at least you wouldn't be flying.
Honestly, you’d even pick a jetski over a helicopter.
He kept alluding that Jeon Jungkook did it for you. ‘Someone just had to go that extra mile. Someone just had to please you.’ You don’t know if he was serious or just teasing you. Either way, you apparently owed Jungkook a ‘thank you’--- for kinda saving your life and booking a yacht instead of a chopper even though it’d take way longer.
You don’t have the energy to dress up like you usually would, sticking to some thick compression socks, slippers, a tank top and some sweatpants instead. These are your sick clothes. Super cute and very comfortable.
You keep a change of clothes in your handbag just in case you somehow soil the getup.
Yoongi arrives at your door to pick you up after a little over an hour.
You’re still in the process of scanning every corner of your room, making sure you have all your belongings.
Half the time, you zone out. You definitely felt a lot better than the night before though.
“Hey. Ready to go yet?” His eyes don’t leave his phone.
Yoongi had been pretty occupied with work all morning.
You feel a tiny bit guilty for delaying everyone’s weekend. But it’s not your fault you got sick.
Plus, it’s not like they had to stay. You could’ve arranged your own way back home.
You do one final sweep of the suite before stepping out.
Yoongi power walks to the lobby while you struggle to keep up, dragging your suitcases behind you.
>:(
Couldn’t you have waited for a bellboy to help? Why did he even come to get you again?
ʚ𖹭ɞ
At the lobby, you reunite with your friend. Jungkook and Hyewon were there too.
Hyewon smiled at you, leaning in for a hug. “Hi! Are you feeling better?”
“I am, yeah. Thanks.” Your hands were still gripping the handles of your luggage but you reciprocate her display of affection and lean into her a little, not wanting to seem rude.
“Good! You looked like death last night. We were so worried.”
Oh!
Well. That’s always nice to hear.
Yoongi snickered but sported a poker face when you glared at him.
“I’m fine. It was just an allergic reaction...” You mumble, sneaking a peek at Jungkook, who was already watching you. He was back in his work attire. He’s so lucky to look this hot on a random Monday.
You almost felt shy.
Was your hair out of place? Did you still ‘look like death?’
More importantly, should you greet him? Thank him? In front of everyone?
Your cheeks feel warm.
Why’s it kinda hot in here? You blink rapidly, trying to disperse all the goosebumps and daydreams.
Hyewon offers to grab one of your bags. You don’t object as she helps you to the golf cart with your bigger suitcase.
Jungkook had both his and hers so…
You glance at him once again.
This time, he raises a brow at you. You respond with a slow cat-like blink.
You should talk to him sooner rather than later. You know, to thank him. Maybe send a gift basket later.
You inquire about Namjoon’s whereabouts and learn he was already on the yacht and trying to catch up on some sleep (all thanks to you) before work.
Yikes.
Yet another person whom you owe a gift basket.
While you waited for Jungkook to finish whatever paperwork for the rental, the chef from last night came out to personally check on you after hearing about the incident. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but you still got a whole tray of tiramisu as an apology.
You felt awkward accepting it but you assumed it would've been rude not to.
You smile and promise to visit again. And it wasn't a fib. You think you'd have fun here with Somin.
ʚ𖹭ɞ
Even though the trip ended on a weird note, you would very much miss the beach. You’re sad you didn’t go into the water.
Surprisingly, you hadn’t been on too many island trips. You’re strictly a city girl who prefers bar/club hopping and shopping over… goat puppy yoga classes or whatever Hyewon tried to do with you.
It wouldn’t hurt to connect with nature once in a while though. You could probably drag Logan someplace. Lately, you've been thinking about fold mountains. You’d like to drive high up to the peak and picture everything underwater. It scares the shit out of you but you can already imagine the crisp, mountain air filling your lungs. The sedimentary rock formations call out to you.
Today, you notice things you missed when you arrived as you’re driven to the dock.
To be fair, it was nighttime then. But still!
You see a little flea market set up with a bunch of tourists.
Aw, you frown. You could've gone too.
“We went there today!” Hyewon spoke excitedly from across, “Jungkook bought me this.” She flashes you her wrist which was adorned with the most gorgeous seashells charm bracelet.
Your eyes lit up at the sight, “That is so pretty.” You whisper earnestly.
“It’s one of a kind too.” Hyewon squeezes her boyfriend’s thigh as a little ‘thank you.’ Jungkook’s bashful when he covers her hand with his in response.
Eugh. You cross your legs hastily. Jungkook really had good taste. In most things.
On any other day, you’d have stopped the cart and shopped around the market for an hour or so. You caught glimpses of so many things you’d potentially be into; like seashell adorned jute bags, wedge sandals, sun hats, candles, different kinds of jewelry, and all of it looked handmade.
You’re a sucker for art.
But you already felt like you were at fault for delaying the group’s departure from this island with your sickness.
So… No flea market for ya.
You pull your sunglasses over your eyes and lean your head back to enjoy the cool wind caressing you all over.
ʚ𖹭ɞ
Honestly, you wouldn’t mind being driven around in a golf cart everywhere permanently.
What is the reason for these not being available to go on the highway? Safety issues?
Perhaps you could settle on a sexy little cabriolet. Why haven't you bought one already?
Well, you hated getting stuff in your eyes.
Also one time, you lost a lash riding in your friend's convertible. But you suppose you could just get better glue. And sunglasses!
The cart comes to a halt a few feet away from the dock. You hear seagulls screeching all over the place. Whew. They hadn't sounded this crazy near the resort.
You thank the driver and make your way down to the boat.
It was a pretty large yacht called Miss Toffee. You don't know why you were imagining a speedboat instead.
You wait for your bags to be loaded onto the vessel before being helped on.
You’re the last passenger to get on.
Jungkook extends his hand to you despite the captain of the ship offering you the same (help.) You hand off your handbag to Jungkook and accept the other man’s hand to pivot yourself aboard. “Thanks!”
You give your tiramisu away to the kitchen staff to serve everyone aboard. Yes, they had a kitchen staff. And two bedrooms, one of which was probably occupied by Joon. Maybe you can hide out there with him for two hours. It seemed doable.
Pre-departure, the captain, who introduced himself as Jamal, conducted a mini safety briefing, informing you about the yacht’s layout and what areas you could and couldn’t be in, emergency floaties and so on.
Jungkook still held on to your bag.
Six minutes into the briefing, you lose focus. You wanted to pay attention but your body was distracted. If you’d have heard Jamal, you’d have informed him of this funny feeling you’re getting in your tummy.
Luckily for you, Jeon Jungkook was keeping track of everything.
.
.
“I’m so tired of being sick!” You cry.
There’s no way Jeon Jungkook would fuck you after this. It just isn’t in the books for you. Or him. You are not in his books.
And if at all you were (in his books) this morning, you sure as hell aren’t anymore.
Because you’ve found yourself in yet another unfortunate situation.
From the way you’ve been throwing up (loudly, might I add) on the side of the yacht from the past twenty minutes, you might as well fling yourself off of it.
This was beyond humiliating.
God, why would he ever want to fuck you now that he associates you with VOMIT.
Urghgrrhh. Your ego is taking a big hit. (citrustan giggles)
Yeah, yeah, it’s natural and you can’t help it and it’s not your fault but it still grosses you out.
You wouldn’t wish this on your worst enemy.
Someone tied your hair back and secured it in a bun with a claw clip as you emptied your stomach for the third time since you got on.
Of course, you’re now battling seasickness.
Something none of you had considered.
Why would you? You’d never been seasick before. But the movement of the vessel is making your head spin and tummy hurt.
Actually, you aren’t even sure what triggered your digestive system first: the very faint, fishy smell of freshly prepared seafood that included raw sea urchins, oysters and caviar (which aren’t easy on the eyes either,) or the motion of the boat. Or maybe it was a combination of both.
Jungkook had been observing you closely from the moment you boarded the boat. Intentional or not, he doesn’t know. But he noticed the shift in your microexpressions the moment you laid your eyes on the little buffet Jamal had personally arranged for. Had he known the details of it, he’d have requested a change. Because only someone like Jeon Jungkook would be prepared enough for literally any circumstance.
It’s as if the man had a seventh sense when it came to you. He offered you his sipper water bottle before anything even started. You even made a quip about a grown man having a sipper bottle: ‘What are you? 12? What man in his 30s needs a sippy cup?’
(Uh, hypocritical much? All 15 of your abandoned Stanleys are collectively shaking their heads at you.)
Either way, the joke’s on you because that sippy cup is saving your life a little right now.
You dragged yourself back to the chairs once you’d calmed down a bit.
Swallowing little sips of water was soothing your throat. And consuming liquids was easier with Jungkook’s adult sippy bottle. Paper straws just don’t do it for you. Or anyone else, you assume.
Namjoon was still asleep in one of the rooms since he was up most of the night and Yoongi was AWOL because he had to make a few work calls. Both men were lucky enough to not have witnessed any of the mess.
This left you with Hyewon and Jungkook constantly ‘watching over you’ as you laid on one of the pool chairs on the deck, fanning yourself with a folded newspaper with one hand and sipping water from Jungkook’s adult sippy cup in the other, sweaty and vomit-y.
Couldn’t Hyewon at least offer to fan you? You may or may not decline but you’d think she’d have the thoughtfulness to at least ask.
What was she doing here anyway?
And as if Hyewon’s presence wasn’t reason enough for your annoyance, one of the crewmembers had the audacity to present you with a fucking bucket to throw up in. As if!
Why would you want to have a bucket of vomit sitting around marinating in the sun?
Plus you only threw up on the side of the boat because you couldn’t hold it in till you reached your room. And now, Mr. Jeon-know-it-all won’t let you retreat into your room because he doesn’t think it’s ventilated enough and thinks you might- no, will throw up in your sleep and choke to death.
At this point, you’d pick that option over whatever the hell this was.
You couldn’t even place a hat on your face like you usually would when you lie on a lounge chair to sunbathe any other time, because for some reason, it’s making you feel even more nauseated.
So now you’re stuck and uneasy with all the close attention you’re getting from the couple.
You notice movement in your peripheral and sneak a peek, believing one of the two might be walking away for a bit. But noooo. PDA.
Hyewon is on her boyfriend’s lap. Really? Now?
PDA next to a person on their literal deathbed.
Ick.
Ugh.
Here you go again. You swear it wasn’t on purpose. You can’t help it.
You hastily swing your legs over the chair and stumble off to the side of the boat and begin dry heaving, making the worst sounds to ever have come from a human. Again.
Not even a hangover had rendered you this ill before.
Sucks that the couple’s makeout sesh is interrupted though. ;( :( :)
You hear heavy, urgent footsteps in pursuit but pay no heed.
You were busy getting wrung, sorry.
A hand rubs your back and another one… your head?
Why was your head being caressed right now? You smack the one by your head away with a little grumble: ‘Don’t touch me there.’
“Ow!”
I’ll give you a second to guess whose hand you just slapped away. Just go with your gut.
.
.
.
You got it.
Now, you don’t know whether it was smart or stupid of Hyewon to pull a move this ridiculous because honestly, you can accept both excuses.
If she displays a kind of weaponised incompetence that she did by rubbing your head while your entire body was being turned inside out and hung to dry, you’re naturally bound to show your annoyance (as you did by smacking her bony hand away,) which would then give her a reason- or excuse to get away from you without feeling guilty or judged by the overseers. OR she’s just that stupid.
And you know for a fact that the woman wasn’t an idiot. She might be a little oblivious or even a tad delusional, but she’s def not a total idiot. You think.
The hand, which you now confirm as Jungkook’s, travels down your spine to massage it. You’d been bent over the railing quite a few times, your body was sore. (And not in the way you’d have liked. :/ )
You’ve been such a cunt to Jungkook, you don’t know how you could possibly thank him for all this.
A small, unreasonable and stubborn part of you still blamed him for booking a yacht when you could’ve just flown for 20 minutes instead.
But then again, throwing up in a helicopter with no way for anyone to escape without dying would’ve been a lot worse. But also, you wouldn’t be seasick in a chopper.
Jungkook paused his hand for a moment, feeling two, tiny parallelly placed, circular objects on your lower back.
Fuck. He scrunches his brows.
Innocently, he runs his fingers over the two little bumps a few more times to make sure he isn’t mistaken. Luckily for him (but sadly for you,) you don’t notice.
Did you have dermal piercings on your back?
Jeon Jungkook’s trying really hard not to picture you naked back at this moment. Trying really hard not to acknowledge the fact that those were his favourite kind of body accessory.
Of fucking course, you’d have those. Lower back dermals are so… you.
For fuck’s sake, you were literally sick. And what kind of man would he be if he lost his shit over two innocent little piercings? At the base of your back, no less. They feel like rhinestones too. Not unusual but he wouldn't expect anything less from the princess™.
…
Would it be too forward to ask about them?
A loud retching sound brings his attention back.
The staff were hosing the side of the ship down simultaneously.
The audio-visuals were making him a tad queasy too but he was committed to taking care of you until the captain (who also happened to be a doctor) could attend to you--- You know, out of respect for his hyungs who were currently preoccupied, of course. Nothing else.
Jungkook gently tucks the loose strands of your hair behind your ears as the salty breeze hits you, messing your hair up in the process.
“Let it out, let it all out.” He chants while patting your back.
When Jungkook notices you’ve been fairly still and silent, he leads you back into the inner deck by your shoulders.
You’re a zombie at this point. He could walk you off the deck, straight into the water and you’d follow.
Whining, you cry to nobody in particular, “Put a muzzle on me, I can’t do this anymore…”
“That can be arranged for later-” Jungkook entertains you, “You can count on me.”
You glare at him and he returns it. Though his gaze is more… intense. His lips curved into the faintest smirk. You could almost see the mischief swimming in his irises.
Normally, you wouldn’t back down from a staring contest but this man was making you blush endlessly. You almost cower under his eye.
Pfft.
You yank yourself away from his grip as hard as you could in your condition and take a seat on one of the couches.
You clean yourself with wet wipes and clean, hot towels.
Jungkook folds his cuffs back. You eye his sleek grey trousers and his white shirt, tucked in and everything.
When was this man ever not in business casuals? It wasn’t really casual but you can’t remember the term- oh, formals.
“Why are you always dressed like that?” You don’t mean to sound as accusatory as you do.
“Like what?” You hear him scoff.
You tilt your head, “You’re always suited up.” Hm. Thinks. “It’s hot but I wonder what you look like without ‘em.” Smiling up at him innocently, you lean back.
Hyewon’s head perks up at this.
Jungkook’s mouth slightly drops agape. But he says nothing. Doesn’t get the opportunity to respond before his girlfriend returns.
You’re fucking bold.
“He’s hotter without them. I can vouch for it!”
You discreetly roll your eyes but cover it up with a smile, “Cute.”
It doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook, although he doesn’t acknowledge it. Once again.
Simply smirking at Hyewon, he asks her if she wants a drink.
You tune them out and try to concentrate on not regurgitating anything else.
Jungkook makes his way to the bar to request a few drinks. Along with that, he asks the crew to give you space. (i.e. no more vomit buckets or food out in the area you're occupying.)
“Do you want to try to take a nap?” Hyewon asks carefully.
You learn forward and rest your head in your hands, “Ugh, I wish. But Jungkook’s right, I don’t want to risk suffocation.” He had valid concerns.
“Why don’t you try? It always helps me to sleep it off. Jungkook’s just being anal about it.”
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she was asking you to go die in a corner.
Huh.
Well.
Two can play this game, you think.
Right at that moment, Mr. Jeon returns with two teacups and places it on the coffee table in front of you. “I got you ginger and chamomile teas. Hopefully, they’ll settle your stomach and your nerves. Can you drink that for me?”
For him…?
You bit the corner of your lip, contemplating all the other things you’d do for him.
“_____.” - Hmm,,,. - “_____, while it’s warm, please.”
You lift your arm to reach one of the ceramic cups and catch Hyewon’s eye.
:)
Suddenly frowning, you weakly rub your wrist. “Ow…”
Oh, no. :( Your wrist is weak and sore. :( Oh, what will you ever do? :(
“You okay there?” You hear Jungkook closing in.
“I don’t know… I can’t-” You pout, cutting yourself off, “I’ll drink it in a bit, my arm’s a little…” You trail off.
You sigh, peeking at Jungkook through your peripheral.
Jungkook settles beside you, teacup now in his hand.
"Your arm hurts?" He finishes.
You pout and nod miserably. “Mhm.”
Jungkook parrots you, "The same arm you were using to lift that large handbag of yours just now?"
…
Rude.
You frown, “Uh, yeah, that’s what I said, genius.”
Jungkook sighed and glanced at his girlfriend. It didn't sound like a fond sigh. It was a kind of sigh you let out before enabling bad behaviour.
Hyewon watched the two of you cautiously.
I mean, she understood you were ill and her boyfriend was sort of a natural caretaker, but she was pissed as hell that they weren’t making out on the top deck right now.
This was probably the first time ever that she earnestly showed her dislike towards you--- in front of you. (Albeit in her mind but even then, at least she’s facing those feelings honestly and not gaslighting herself.)
It’s probably irrational or perhaps even an exaggeration, but she feels you’re almost playing your sickness up just to be coddled by everyone.
No. That's ridiculous. She shakes it off.
Hyewon thinks she should pitch in and help her boyfriend but she’s just unhappy with his choice of making himself this available to you in the first place.
Hyewon ignores the sting she feels in her chest as she watches her boyfriend cradle the back of your head and guide the teacup to your mouth while you hold on to his wrist. And she certainly ignores that hint of something unexplainable in his eyes as he watches you sip the liquid from the cup.
Jungkook’s fingers gently massage your nape, shooting goosebumps all through your body. It’s so sensual. Yet he does it so casually.
If things were different, you think you’d have kissed him right there. It’d have been a picture perfect moment. Your thought process rarely heads in this direction.
You like feeling good. You enjoy attention and validation from people you like. You even crave romance once in a while. And you think a kiss would’ve made this random afternoon quite romantic. That is, if things were different.
Out of nowhere, Hyewon abruptly walks off. And Jungkook’s attention shifts back to her, eyes instantly glued to her figure as she exits your sights.
You drop the act and wordlessly grab the little teacup from his hand.
Your cold fingers send a little shiver down his spine. He does a decent job of ignoring it.
Gee, this thing was weightless. You think about the teacup.
He doesn’t even acknowledge you before following Hyewon into the dining area.
Hey. :(
Well, there goes your chance at romance?
A weird sadistic part of you was pleased to have potentially caused a wedge in between the lovebirds.
Don’t get it wrong, you totally want to hop on Jeon Jungkook, but you hadn’t really given any thought to the aftermath of it if it were to happen.
You guess you just caught a glimpse? Scarily enough, it does not bother you as much as it should.
Leaning back on the couch, you choose to nurse yourself with the remainder of the teas Jungkook brought you.
Jungkook spots Hyewon seated at the medium sized dining table.
It was decorated with a beautiful red, white and purple floral centerpiece, thick, unlit white candles, and plates and utensils clearly prepared for five guests.
She’s looking down at her phone, not acknowledging Jungkook when he pulls up a seat next to her.
Then Hyewon glances over and smiles a little. “Oh, hey. Whatcha doing here?”
Jungkook stares at her. “You tell me.”
“What do you mean?” Hyewon continues to put on an act.
Jungkook sighs.
“Won…” He probed, leaning closer, “What’s going on?”
“Huh? Nothing.” Hyewon laughs. Nothing was funny. She was just buying herself time to delay this confrontation.
Hyewon almost got upset all over again. Did he really just throw that in her face?
“I did not ‘storm off,’ I was hungry.” She couldn’t just stop there, nope. “Watching you feed _____ that tea made me think about food.”
Ah.
Right…
Jungkook looked down with a hint of embarrassment flooding him.
Thankfully, Hyewon kept talking so Jungkook didn’t really get the opportunity to explain himself right then.
“I guess I was just irritated by how much time you were spending together? I know it’s irrational because it’s not like you were having fun or anything. She was sick and you were just,” Hyewon pauses to find the right words, “-being a good person. I don’t know?”
Wow. Jeon Jungkook was the worst boyfriend in the world.
He almost felt defensive and called out but stopped himself from verbalizing it.
However, he also understood where Hyewon was coming from. Because he knew he was guilty of things she wasn't even accusing him of.
Why wouldn’t she be pissed about him practically playing house with you, sick or not.
Still he reasons with her. “We spent all weekend together, Won. I’m just trying to hold the fort down till Jamal can assist _____." Jamal, the captain, was also a doctor. "Yoongi and Namjoon aren't available either. I couldn't just let her fend for herself, you know?”
Hyewon wanted to bring up the part where you smacked her arm and Jungkook didn’t defend her but she decided it was too silly of a reason to be upset. Considering your physical state and all.
It's not like you tried to hurt her on purpose.
“Hold on, let me text Jamal and find out if he’ll be able to come out now.” Jungkook springs into action and ends up calling the ship’s captain to ask for medication.
Jungkook walks to the edge of the vessel as he speaks to Jamal on call.
He assumed the crew must’ve updated Jamal about your health already. They had indeed. But since Jamal thought Jungkook had it under control, he didn’t interfere.
The crew had been informed of your allergic reaction from the night before, so they had assumed your sickness was shellfish related and left it up to Jungkook, thinking he’d know more.
Jamal also mistook you for Jungkook’s girlfriend for some reason. Jungkook’s taking this error to the grave.
Had they called for him earlier, you would’ve been taken care of sooner.
Huh.
Why hadn’t Jungkook thought of doing that immediately?
Hyewon’s back at the table, secretly rolling her eyes.
She knew it was totally idiotic of her to be jealous of the smallest bit of attention and care her boyfriend was giving you. But for some reason, she couldn’t help it.
I mean. Even when his own girlfriend’s upset and trying to talk to him, Jungkook prioritises you.
She knows it’s only because you’re seriously ill. Yet that does very little to settle her emotions.
Jungkook rejoins her, “Alright. Jamal’s gonna check on _____. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
Hyewon simply stares at her boyfriend before sighing. She was ready to change the topic.
“Babe, what?” Jungkook asks dumbfounded in reference to the huge sigh she just let out.
“Nothing! It’s the same thing, your attention is still on _____. And here I was, trying to talk to you."
Jungkook grows confused.
What?
No.
He did this for Hyewon. Jungkook made sure you were taken care of so he could spend time with his girlfriend instead of indulging you.
It's what she wanted, isn't it?
“I’m here with you, Won. I just made sure _____ gets proper medical attention. We can do whatever you want now. I’m here, okay?” He was assertive.
Hyewon paused for a few seconds.
He has made Hyewon feel secure enough to move forward with what she had originally planned to do with her boyfriend.
Hyewon finally smiled satisfactorily. “Okay… I was thinking we could maybe get some dessert and watch an episode of… Orange?” She kisses his neck. Jungkook instantly caves, smiling in relief.
The pair then sneak off into the vacant room.
You expected Jungkook to return in no less than five to six minutes. Not because you want him to or are waiting for him or anything but because he’d been orbiting around you this entire time. He was refilling your water, checking you for fever, checking your pulse, just whatever, stuff.
So, you know, of course he'd be back soon.
You pout and look around the mostly empty deck, swinging your legs and swaying with the yacht.
Where was this man?
Wow, there must be a hell of a fight going on now if he’s taking this long.
Maybe you could try to read a book to pass time before he comes back.
You reach into your giant bag to fish out whatever bullshit book Namjoon made you read.
“Hey, _____. How are we doing here?” The voice literally comes out of nowhere, startling you.
“Oh! God. Wow. Hey, Jamal. Who’s um steering the boat and stuff?” You’re genuinely concerned. Your question elicits a bright smile from him, “My partner. Ivy. You know her from the chopper.”
Oh! Wow.
“Aw, I like Ivy. Also, I’m doing much better,” You giggle, “Thanks to ginger and chamomile.” You show him the empty teacups.
“Ah. Well, good. But I’d still like to take a look at ya. Is that okay?”
You simply nod. Only then do you notice the little first aid kit thingy Jamal carried with him.
He checks your body temperature, blood pressure, heart rate, blood sugar, and hands you a pill to help control your nausea. You were skeptical but then you learnt that he was a proper doctor with an actual medical degree and everything.
While Jamal ran whatever tests on you, you can’t help but peek at the path leading to the dining room every few seconds, you know, to see if anyone’s gonna show up anytime soon.
Nobody comes through there though.
After Jamal leaves to put his doctor’s kit back where it belonged, you walk up to the railing to watch the water. It looked glittery under the sun’s rays.
You then catch a glimpse of a mama sting ray with her baby and excitedly turn to announce it to literally anyone but only spot two girls from the crew.
Wow, this was pathetic.
Where the hell is everyone?
Ugh, who cares anyway.
You wave the two women over, in hopes of showing them what you spotted.
Although, they’ve probably seen a lot more since they’re on yachts, like, multiple hours every day.
ʚ𖹭ɞ
The girls, Delaney and Adora, turn out to be great company.
They were just as excited to see the sting rays.
Eventually, you get to talking and learn about each other’s jobs and hobbies.
And oh, this was probably the first time you didn’t have to dodge the job question. It felt strangely cathartic.
The girls shared your interests in the Real Housewives franchise and fashion. You have an intense discussion to decide who the ultimate housewife was. (There was no single conclusion if you're wondering.)
You've even promised to connect Delaney to a casting agent in New York because you believe she’d make an excellent runway model.
They tell you stories about all the annoying passengers they’ve had aboard to pass time.
Hint: You don’t even make it to their top 100. So yay!
The ones that really stuck with you involved an emotional support peacock and a billionaire’s son who tipped everyone in cryptocurrency.
The yacht rocked ever so gently. You watch the ocean stretch endlessly in almost every direction. Jamal and Ivy had lowered the speed so you could spot dolphins.
Adora and Delaney offered you some fish to use as bait to attract the mammals but you denied. You don’t think you’d be able to stomach the scent. And you think the dolphins are much too smart to be baited by a tin of anchovies anyway.
ʚ𖹭ɞ
Time passes surprisingly fast when you’re having fun.
Namjoon and Yoongi come out to join you in conversation sometime along the way.
For a split second, you almost consider asking about Jungkook and Hyewon but stop yourself. They’re probably off doing some boring shit you don’t want to hear about like drawing each other’s portraits or whatever.
By the time the city comes into view, you're perched on Yoongi’s lap on a lounge chair, chatting away animatedly as though you hadn't spent the past few hours vomiting with biblical enthusiasm.
Jungkook and Hyewon finally emerge from their hiding spot.
When they approach your little group on the deck, you just give them a small smile and carry on with your conversation with the girls.
Despite the couple choosing to sit right beside you, you don’t naturally interact with them.
It’s totally not because you're feeling strangely abandoned after a certain lawyer vanished for the better part of an hour and never came back.
Hyewon watches you as she always does. She’s curious. Trying to figure something out. You were so chatty. She watches you freely interact with the two crew members, having an amazing time. You can practically see the moment she realizes you've spent the better part of an hour chatting happily with two strangers while barely sparing a thought for her the entire trip.
She almost scoffs.
What was she doing wrong? Why can’t you be just as pleasant with her?
Hyewon puts her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder.
Speaking of the boyfriend; as always, like a moth to a flame, Jungkook’s already subconsciously fixated on you.
Unlike Hyewon, he’s noticing the way you’ve grown so close with Yoongi that you feel comfortable enough to sit on his lap, and even touch his face and hair, which is something he hates. Or Jungkook thought he did.
He knew you were absolutely Yoongi’s type. Bratty, pretty, kind of a pain in the ass.
Why did that kinda irritate him?
His gaze is locked on Yoongi’s large hands: one's caressing your thigh while the other plays with your voluminous, long hair.
Jungkook also notes how you haven’t looked at him or talked to him this whole time. But he gets it, he did just leave you without as much as a word.
Yeah.
He knows damn well why you’re giving him the cold shoulder.
He wraps his arm around Hyewon and continues to listen in to your conversations with the two women.
ʚ𖹭ɞ
Deboarding a yacht takes a lot longer than you’d guess.
You could literally see Logan waiting by the car but you had to wait for all the protocols to pass. You could literally just jump off and swim to the pier.
The yacht finally docks.
Once you hop off, you sincerely thank the crew for taking care of you and then sincerely apologise for the inconveniences you’d caused them.
They were really nice about it. Especially the girls.
You also end up having to enlist Yoongi and Namjoon’s help to make them tip the whole crew big bucks since they refused to accept yours.
Logan loads up your bags in the back seat while you bid your goodbyes.
Yoongi's assistant comes to pick him up and you bid him goodbye with a little kiss on the cheek.
Namjoon leaves with Jungkook and Hyewon.
Before they could get into their vehicle, you meekly approach Hyewon and Jungkook and mutter a little thanks for ‘doing as much as they could.’
It was subtle snark yet evoked a truly emotional ‘aw, of course’ from Hyewon.
Jungkook just smirked at your sassiness. You were so infuriating. Such a big baby. It makes him want you even more.
Then you turn to Namjoon to give him the tightest hug you've ever given.
You eye Jungkook one last time before running off to your car.
Two days later, you're sitting cross-legged on the floor of your TV room, surrounded by a bunch of stuff, three luxury department store catalogues, random fruit, a bonsai, a Yoshitomo Nara coffee table book and a chilled glass of diet Coke.
Curating gift baskets should not be this difficult. It usually isn’t! This was your most favourite thing to do, yet you were struggling. Consumerism is beating your ass.
Namjoon’s was easy. You’re giving him a gorgeous little flowering bonsai, exotic fruit and some coffee table books you know he’d love.
Hyewon is where you’ve hit the first bump.
You’ve settled with fruit and a floral arrangement for her.
But was that too little? Probably.
Maybe if you threw in a bottle of your favourite California rosé? And a few liquor chocolates? Yeah. You’d be satisfied if you got this basket.
Well, at least those two are finalised.
Jungkook’s was the hardest to arrange.
You don’t know what to do. You've hit the second bump--- no, you’ve hit a wall.
What the hell does Jeon Jungkook like? Skincare? Food? You noticed he was pretty knowledgeable about food. Maybe you could bake for- yeah, no you can’t even finish that thought, you’d probably kill him.
You'd ask Joon but you can't because you want to surprise him with his basket.
You stretch your toes.
Jeon Jungkook.
You know he uses... pens. He... wears suits and ties and glasses? Piercings. Tattoos. Okay, now you’re just picturing him in your mind.
He was too hot for his own good.
Shoes?
You can never go wrong with shoes. You’re a total slut for shoes.
But you don’t want to come off as too… eager.
You hate that you do gift baskets. But they were your brand. And you can’t just ignore all that Jungkook’s done to make your trip smoother.
ʚ𖹭ɞ
A few hours later, you’ve arranged Namjoon's basket and ordered a few items for Hyewon's basket.
And you've also finally made up your mind about Jungkook’s basket.
You were keeping it super casual, putting together some vibrant dragon fruit along with chamomile and ginger tea leaves (and the free brewer that came with it.) And a thank you note, of course.
This was personal enough, you think.
next: killah (jjk) [10]
note: this was way shorter than i intended. i'd have liked this one and the next chapter to be one big chapter buuut tbh it's better this way!
i also want to remind everyone that oc is ultimately the main character and i like to write her as the center of everyone's universe :p indulge me
you know the drillll, tell me what you think, i love asks and comments :D
working alongside jeon jungkook has proven to be a lot harder than you anticipated, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. that’s until a secret you’ve been hiding comes to light.
word count: 11.959
warning: nerd/shy jungkook, mc was a bit of a bitch at first, kissing, naive teen jungkook, grinding, why did mc use jk like that??, semi-public sex, handjob, dirty talking, dry humping, fingering, office sex , degradation, submissive reader/dom jk, also dom reader bc she can be a bitch sometimes LMAOO, creampie,
part one
Often, you think about the time Jungkook told you that he loved you. You thought about how you reacted. You were shocked. Said shock had you reacting indifferently towards his words.
A part of you recalls how you felt when you began to ignore Jungkook. The look in his eyes that had your heart jolting, but your face never faltered from its stoic one. You avoided him like your life depended on it - not because of what Jungkook said, but because of how his words made you feel.
The only time Jungkook recalls you showing a bit of interest was when he was publicly congratulated at the end of the school year for being the few students accepted into a top University. For a split moment, your eyes met. However, before Jungkook could process it, you were out of his sights.
Jungkook doesn’t know why you ran off as quickly as you had, but you did. You remembered the way your mouth salivated, your stomach churned and you sprinted to the nearest exit. The girls restroom was empty when you arrived, and you hadn’t even bothered to lock the stall door before you dropped to your knees and vomited right into the toilet.
Graduation day was when you found out you were pregnant. The small letters that held the eight letter words appeared as though it was laughing at you. You couldn’t find a single picture of you at said graduation where you appeared content. Your mother, at the time, just told you it was woe of you growing older and off into the real world. Only you knew the true reasoning at the time.
Your mind travels to that day often. From finding out you were pregnant, to receiving Jungkook’s letter. He hadn’t delivered it to you personally, and instead had been given to you by someone walking by. You opened the card, your brows knitted together as you read it.
You recall the way your heart jolts at the way he writes your name. Jungkook apologized for making you uncomfortable. He pleads for forgiveness, stating that he’d do whatever for you to forgive him, even if it meant that you and him wouldn’t go back to the way things were before.
You found Jungkook in the crowd of excited teenagers. His eyes lit up, you noted. With anticipation. Even then, he was pleading with you for forgiveness that he had no fault in. In just a quick moment, your mind flashes with the amount of times you and he have been together, to then at the graduation.
How would Jungkook react to the news of your pregnancy, you asked yourself. How would your friends? Your parents?
Unlike Jungkook, you hadn’t thought about universities and where’d you go. You promised your mother that after a year break, you’d start classes again. Now, however, you were certain you couldn’t do what you planned.
You placed the card back into the envelope, ripping your eyes away from Jungkook and turning to walk away. You don’t see the way his face falls or his shoulders falter. With your back turn, he doesn’t see the way your eyes tear up a bit before you force them away.
That was 13 years ago and your mind always wanders back to that same night. You ignored Jungkook’s calls, but each time his name flashed onto your screen, you thought about answering. You thought about telling him about the pregnancy - about your own confused feelings you felt for him.
You hadn’t.
You always found Jeon Jungkook to be cute. His nervous doe-like eyes, always shy and low whenever you were around. He often kept them hidden behind his hair, possibly hoping it’d assist him in camouflaging entirely.
Jeon Jungkook was quiet. The only time he spoke was when he had to, the teacher choosing him at random.
You always found Jeon Jungkook to be cute - and that was something you couldn’t reveal to your friends. While you listened to them gush about who they hooked up with, who was hot or not, Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t make the cut.
“He probably humps his pillow.” your friend, Lia, cackles, turning her head away from Jungkook and back to the group; to you. It was one of the many times Jungkook had been caught staring. His cheeks are a bright red. He leans low in his chair, hunching a bit to avoid further eye contact.
“I think he’s got a crush on you.” Ava cackled, covering her mouth with her manicured hand - the same color and design that matches all of your hands perfectly.
You always found Jeon Jungkook to be cute, but you were young. You were popular. You had a reputation - even if you realized after the fact that it was dumb. “I bet I could get him to do my homework…he’s such a loser.”
You didn’t mean anything you said to your friends about Jungkook, yet you never defended him aloud. You continued to use Jungkook to your advantage - allowing him to do your homework and copy off of him when needed. You teased him while your friends all watched.
You always found Jeon Jungkook to be cute. It’s the reason you found yourself having fun with the boy. It was probably wrong to use him for your own personal gain, but the rose tint on his cheeks followed by his shy eyes were just too hard to resist.
It’s why you kept it on - forcing him to smell your panties. Told him to touch himself in front of you, calling him pathetic with how excited he was; it was all to feed your ego. It wasn’t right, but it felt like it.
Your favorite memory was during study hall when you asked Jungkook to help you with a project - something he always did himself while you sat pretty beside him. He looked cuter this time, round glasses on his nose as he focused on the laptop in front of him for information. It was quiet in the library, only a few students scattered around.
Jungkook had stiffened when your hand placed itself on his thigh. You begin to tap your fingers upwards, reaching closer and closer until it’s at the twitching dent. “You aren’t going to stop me?” you recall asking him. “I bet you want people to catch us like this. That’ll boost your popularity, won't it?”
Jungkook’s lips part as you force your hand into his pants. His head whips around to the quiet library. A few tables away is a girl with her head against the desk, most likely asleep. Rows of bookshelves hide the librarian in the front.
“I still can’t believe a nerd like you has such a big cock.” you murmur, leaning closer. “You’re happy, aren’t you? You like the way my hand feels around your cock.”
Jungkook’s body shuddered at the feel of your squeezing hand right on his covered cock, his underwear appearing tighter and tighter against him.
“Say it.”
“I like it.” Jungkook squeaked out, low and pathetic just as you said.
You knew he did. Dare you say he liked it just as much as you. You continued to grind your palm against his cock, watching him closely as his eyelids began to flutter. His breathing quickens, attempting to hide it to now draw too much attention to the two of you..
“Say you’re lucky to have me.” you lean closer. “Say you’re pathetic.”
“I’m pathetic.” Jungkook’s hand curls into a tight first, his heart pumping so radically outside his chest. “I am lucky…to have you, Y/N.”
You told yourself the giddy feeling you felt in your heart was just a stroke of your own ego. You had giggled low when he came in his underwear, the warm substance sticking against him sickly. You kissed his cheek, just inches away from his lips and told him, “I know.”
You thought back to the time Jungkook had told you that he loved you for the first - and only - time. How you proceeded to ignore him - his calls, letters, all of it. You told yourself that it had gone too far and you weren’t doing anything but further toying with Jungkook who had admitted to you that he loved you.
Then, you found out you were pregnant.
In a way, you created a monster, you think. You were the reason Jungkook had grown older, harboring these feelings towards women all because you were too much of a coward to face him. To face your friends if they ever found out what you were doing with him.
Now, Jeon Jungkook is back in your life. He’s taller, even more handsome and successful - everything you aren’t.
Jeon Jungkook was correct about a lot of things.
Your car has been repossessed.
You’ve taken out more loans than you should’ve.
You were behind on bills.
You watched your reflection in the glass door of the bank, your eyes staring right back at you. It was 10 minutes before close. You wouldn’t say you didn’t recognize yourself, it’s just the you that you hadn’t seen in years.
You deposited the money into your account far too quickly, only a bit ashamed of yourself in the way you’ve gotten in. However, the expenses you had didn’t wait for you to gain money morally.
“Miss Y/L,”
You offered a strained smile as you entered the building. Your eyes scanned the open gym, several children - of all ages - littering the vicinity. Your eyes immediately went towards where the older ones were, pre-teens and teenagers alike. You spotted him almost instantly and your heart jolted.
“Hello,” you glanced away and towards the voice that greets you. “I have to, uh,” you opened your purse to take out the check you’ve gotten from the bank. “make a payment, of course.”
Your cheeks were warm once you handed over the check. You’ve known Lisa for years now. She’s a kind middle aged woman who always has her cat-framed glasses on her nose. She takes the check you hold out gently and inspects it. She tries to hide her surprise.
“It’s what I’ve owed and also to cover the next few months.” you responded meekly. Your palms began to sweat a bit.
Lisa has never judged you or any parent. It was her who gave you the extension on your payments as she understood what it was like. “I was a single mother at one point in my life, too.” she told you one evening almost three months ago. Your eyes were watering when you told her you couldn’t pay to be a part of these gymnastics classes anymore.
Your eyes glanced back at him, your son. He’s tall and lean, his time doing gymnastics since he was young had added only a couple years to his age. He was only 13, but could pass as 15. His hair was dark and wavy, and his eyes resembled the same ones you witnessed for the first time in a decade.
13 years.
“Did you take out a loan?” Lisa questioned, her voice low. She looked concerned and you can tell by her voice alone. “Miss Y/L, I didn’t want you to do-”
“No loan.” you shook your head, your heart jolted once your son met your eyes. Training was over, but he never stopped until he saw you enter the building to come get him. He was on the parallel dip bars, pushing himself up, his legs straight and his shoulders tight. “Um…his father…helped.”
You tore your eyes away from your son to look back at Lisa. She’s met you as a single mother to a 4 year old, your son hyper and bouncing everywhere happily. You never mentioned a father before and even now, you appear uncomfortable.
“Ma!”
Your eyes blink once, then twice. You had spaced out yet again, this time your mind going down a lane full of memories that you couldn’t help. You probably looked insane right now, you think, staring at your son as the two of you eat - or at least him.
“You spaced out.” Ji-tae states matter-of-factly. He takes a bite of his pizza, an abundance of toppings nearly falling off of it. “You’ve been acting weird for a few weeks now. Is everything okay?”
You offer your son a low grin. “You forgot who’s the parent and who’s the child?” you tease. You grasp the bottle to take a sip of your drink. “I’m fine,” you say once you’re done sipping. “just trying to get back situated with work, you know?”
Ji-tae nods his head a bit. He isn’t fully convinced, but you almost never shared your own issues with him. As far as Ji-tae needed to know, you were working a new job that allowed you to drive a nicer car. You had more money to splurge on him, buying him whatever items he asked for without a blink of an eye.
Your son doesn’t need to know the brand new car is from Jungkook, your boss who happens to share the same dark eyes as him.
“What do you do?”
Your eyes twitch a bit, but nonetheless you remain calm. “Assistant.” you reply. “Why do you ask?”
Ji-tae shrugs his shoulders. “Curious.” is all he says, taking another bite of his pizza.
You know your son. He’s scrunching his nose in a way that tells you he wants to say something, but is holding back.
“Ji-tae,”
Your son looks up at you. His eyes meet yours and for a moment, your heart jolts once more.
Ji-tae knows you only call him by his name if you are being serious.
“What's wrong?” you ask him, assuring to keep eye contact.
“I think I want to quit gymnastics.”
Your eyebrows knit. “What?”
If it's one thing your son loves, it was the competitiveness that was gymnastics. He often overworked until he was able to get a certain move close to perfect. Several awards lined the shelves in his bedroom.
“Grandmother,”
Immediately you groan - because of course it had something to do with your mother.
“said you didn’t have the money-”
“What did I tell you, Ji-tae?” you don’t mean to sound harsh. You aren’t upset with your son in the slightest. Your mother, however, always found it hard to not discuss whatever issues you were having with your child. “It’s my responsibility to worry about you.”
“Not the other way around…” Ji-tae trails off. He swallows thickly, his adam’s apple bobbing. “...but if it’s too expensive-”
“It’s not.” you stand, the chair scrapping behind you.
You move faster than you should right now. Your phone is on the kitchen island and you snatch it and Ji-tae is fully aware of what you’re doing.
Your mother answers on the third ring, sounds cherrier than she should right now. You walk out of the room to assure Ji-tae wouldn’t hear the conversation.
“Why are you telling my son things that don’t concern him?” you ask as soon as your mother answers the phone. “He should never know about what the fuck-”
“Y/N, do calm down.” your mother tells you. Her tone is sickenly sweet, but you’ve been raised on it your entire life. It was her ‘mother knows best’ act, something she pulled constantly.
“Tae said he wants to quit gymnastics because you told him I couldn’t afford it.” you spat out, but not too loud for your son to hear.
“Well can you?”
Jungkook was correct about a lot of things that evening. He knew about your car being repossessed, so oftentimes you borrowed your mothers or found your own way. He knew about the small, yet several loans; though he didn’t know that it was for Ji-tae and his hobbies - gymnastics, that led to tournaments at the end of the week, being the most expensive. He knew you were behind on several bills, but that was to assure that Ji-tae had whatever he needed.
What Jeon Jungkook didn’t know was the very existence of your son. That was something you intended to keep a secret as much as you could.
It was your mother’s idea to keep your pregnancy a secret. No pictures. No being seen when you didn’t need to. The plans you’ve made with your friends - the travelling, the late night fun and partying - were gone.
“Please tell me what I’ve deserved to become a grandmother at this age?” your mother asked during dinner one evening. You were five months, bump forming underneath the oversize shirt you wore. “How many times have I warned you about this, Y/N? I wanted you to be more than a pretty face, you know? But look at you now.”
It was also your mother’s idea to sign custody over to her. It made appearances easier, she told you. On paper, sure, she was the mother. But it was you doing the late night feedings and caring for J-itae.
“Do you even know who the father is?” your mother questions lowly on Ji-tae’s first birthday. It’s a question she hadn’t asked you prior. She’s holding him in her arms, a bright smile on her lips as she poses for pictures.
“Well?” your mother's voice brings you back to reality. You’ve spaced out far too many times lately. “Tae told me you started a new job, honey.”
“I did, mother.” you clench the phone to your ear. You inhale slowly, closing your eyes. “I am capable of taking care of my son, mother. If you can’t respect my wishes, then maybe you shouldn’t come around anymore.”
“Excuse me?” your mother laughs. “You’re being dramatic, Y/N. I was just trying to help-”
You hang up. Your heart is racing. You rarely stand up to your mother. For years, you attempted to see things from her point of view. How embarrassed she must’ve been when people soon realized the child she claimed as her own, would slip up and call you mommy. The facade had fallen when Ji-tae was 5, but luckily most of your friends were long gone and those who remained hadn’t believed the facade for a second.
Jungkook, you’ve learned, has changed over the last decade.
And Jeon Jungkook has a daughter.
Jeon Jinah is five. She looked so much like Jungkook, so much so that you pondered how her mother looked. The Jeon genes were strong, you thought, as when it came to Ji-tae and Jinah, it appeared Jungkook gave birth to them himself.
Meeting Jinah for the first time had sent a shiver up your spine, the resemblance to your own son was uncanny. Her eyes are dark like Jungkook’s and Ji-Tae’s. Her stare appeared cold when her father introduced you to her. She peered up at you as if alarmed by your presence.
Then, she smiled a smile that had your heart tugging. You knew that smile all too well.
Maybe it was because she reminded you of the Jungkook you’ve known in high school. The boy whose eyes sparkled with innocence. The boy who was so caring and shy; nice and genuine.
Maybe it was because the smile resembled that of your own son.
Jungkook watches the way Jinah takes your hand in both of her smaller ones, tugging you into her bedroom. He notices the way your eyes roam around the large room, marvelling at how high the ceilings were and how large the bed was for a small child like her. The closet had to be as big as your own bedroom, and she even had a bigger bed than you did.
Jungkook lingers in the doorway as his daughter speaks to you. She rambles, speaking without taking a break. She shows you everything in her room - the expensive tea cups that Jungkook bought that surely weren’t kid friendly as they were decorative glass from Europe. Behind one door, is a second closet, only she tells you it’s for her dolls. You’re almost jealous of the toys when she shows you the clothing, all designer brands you couldn’t pronounce.
After a month, you realized that you appeared to be working for her instead of her father. How you managed to juggle between Ji-tae, who had training every day after school, to Ji-nah was something you yourself couldn’t comprehend.
Jungkook had given you one of his many cars to drive where you picked her up from the home - the same home you also had a key and security codes to.
Jeon Jinah has a strict schedule, you noticed, and you began to realize that Ji-tae inherited more from Jungkook than you.
Each day, you’d come an hour before Ji-nah was set to wake up to prepare her school lunch and breakfast.The first day, Jinah insisted that you eat with her and Jungkook, who only began work after his daughter was in school. Everyday since then, it’s become a routine - only because your son soon insisted on his own strict schedule; morning run, protein shake with breakfast, then to school where he often took the bus to.
After breakfast, you would get Jinah ready for school. That consisted of helping her with her school uniform and doing her hair in whatever style she preferred - on Wednesdays she wore pigtails.
As Jinah was in school, you accompanied Jungkook to the office. The first day, he had given you everything you needed that concerned the girl. Her doctors numbers and emergency contacts outside of his own. Her preferred fruits and vegetables and snacks - he was as organized as you remembered him.
After school, you were surprised to learn that Jinah also did gymnastics. Obviously, it was also a gene she and your son had to inherit from Jungkook. Three days out of the week, she trained in a luxury studio you could never afford yourself. The following two days were ballet and on Saturdays, recitals.
You couldn’t stop the feeling that everything, especially after another month, has become…domestic. You told yourself it was because of Jungkook. In the mornings, he would brew coffee as you made breakfast. He finds watching you shape the pancakes for Jinah in little hearts - simply because she enjoyed it - fascinating. He wouldn’t tell you, but he was expecting you to be bad at this. However, you adapted to the role naturally.
Jungkook was touchier, holding your hips as he passed you or even kissing you at times; actions you never questioned him about.
Maybe it was when Jinah had her last recital at the end of the month when you felt the domestication at its highest. Jungkook had insisted you sit with him instead of being backstage as you always had. His arm circles around your waist and he’d whisper in your ear ever so often about nothing in particular that it had the hair on your neck rising.
Or, possibly now. Jinah is in bed and she asks you if you could stay with her for the night. Sure, she wakes up with you there, but it isn’t the same. In the short amount of time, you understood what Jungkook meant on the first day of him feeling as though she needed a woman. You only agreed because Ji-tae himself wasn’t home and instead was with his friend for the night.
Jungkook doesn’t tell you about the cameras he has in his home. The one he watches you through frequently. Even now as he sits at his desk, the night sky and city lights surrounding him, he hears the way his daughter pleads for you to stay the night with her. He watches the way you get into the large bed and hold her close.
Jungkook continues to watch until he finds that he’s watched for hours. His ears perk when your phone rings and you struggle to get it without waking Ji-nah. He hears you murmuring on the phone; “Tae, what’s wrong?”
Jungkook didn’t know who Tae was.
“I’m working now.” you say, voice low but he can hear you perfectly fine. “Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you, too.”
You’re asleep when Jungkook gets home late that night. Usually, you’d be up waiting for him to return so you could go. He doesn’t bother you. Instead, he allows you to sleep as he closes the door and makes his way down the hallway to his own bedroom. His mind ponders on who’s Tae - a boyfriend? Would you have fucked him if you had one? Surely he wouldn’t know - there isn’t anything hinting that you were in a relationship.
Yet, you tell this person that you loved him. That you’ll see him tomorrow.
Jungkook finds that he doesn’t care - not deeply at least. After all, in a way, he owns you now more than ever.
The domestication doesn’t end there. As a month turns to several months, you begin to ponder on your relationship with Jungkook. It wasn’t professional in the slightest - the sex was the main indicator. Sleeping with your boss wasn’t ideal, but you never denied him when he made advances, partly because you understood your place. He was correct when he said you’d let him.
You understood that you had to keep Jungkook happy. Keeping Jungkook happy meant that Ji-tae could have whatever he needed and more. It meant that you could save the hefty amount of funds Jungkook gave you for your son, a college fund you always told yourself you would start. It meant that you could make on time payments for his gymnastics and pay the fees needed when championships arrived.
But the more you worked under Jungkook, the more you began to question what it was that he had you doing. You, Jinah and him attending an amusement park wasn’t something you should be doing. It felt too personal, but you did simply because Jinah wanted you to. Her small hands in yours and Jungkook's.
A part of you even wished your son could join.
“You’ve been standing there for ten minutes now.”
It’s Jungkook’s voice that gets you out of your thoughts.
You blink a few times before shaking your head. Your eyes glances at Jungkook. He was cooking, chopping up various vegetables, more than he usually would, but he wanted Jinah to try more. “What’s on your mind?”
You straighten your shoulders, turning your eyes away from him. It’s one of those rare occasions that Jungkook wasn’t at the office. Though you saw the man in various suits that served him well, or even naked as unprofessional as that was, you find that his relaxed attire was your favorite. His shirt is dark and loose and he’s wearing sweats that hang only a bit low on his waist.
“...I…”
Jinah is in her room and had been coloring when you walked down the hall to get her a snack. It was when you smelled the food and witnessed Jungkook in the kitchen that your mind wandered.
“...you?” Jungkook raises a brow, giving you a glance before returning to cutting the vegetables.
“Is that all the work you have for me?” you ask. In hindsight, this job was perfect. The pay, the benefits - it all was. But you couldn’t help but feel like this was just the calm before the storm.
“Do you want more work?” Jungkook asks cooly, not bothering to look up at you. “I thought Jinah and her energy would’ve drained you by now.”
You shake your head, even if his eyes weren't on you. You’ve dealt with Ji-tae for years and knew just how to deal with an energetic child.
“I love being around Jinah.” you admit. “It’s just…it doesn’t seem like work. I feel like a mom.”
Your lips curl shut.
Jungkook hums, the knife slicing against the cutting board. This time, he glances up at you just as the last piece of onion is diced. He places the knife down and offers a raised brow.
“Is that a bad thing?”
You catch Jungkook’s eyes. They’re hard and unblinking, waiting for you to answer.
“Is it a bad thing?” Jungkook repeats, a bit louder. “I could have you at the office doing boring paperwork, but instead you’re here.” Jungkook raises a hand to motion around his home. “I trust you enough to care for my daughter. You’re debt free…what more do you want?”
“I never said I wanted more.” you turn away from him. You didn’t even know what you were asking for. “Forget it.”
You make your way to the cupboard to find Jinah a snack. In a way, Jungkook is correct, there isn’t any more you could ask for. Your job was entirely too easy that it has you questioning what Jungkook’s plan was continuing further.
Before you could turn around with the cookies you got for Jinah, Jungkook is behind you. You hadn’t seen him gather the vegetables into the boiling pot and set it to low. His hands are on your waist, lips against your neck.
“What if I told you I don’t have any intentions in letting you go?” Jungkook murmurs against your neck.
You swallow, a shudder running up your spine. “And why is that?”
“Why would I?” Jungkook snorts. “I just got you back.”
Jungkook is kissing your neck now. Your lips part a bit. “13 years is a long time…” you trail off, a slight tremble in your voice.
“It is, isn’t it?” Jungkook says against your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin. His hands roam upward slowly, going underneath your shirt. At the feel of his hands along the bare skin of your stomach, you let out a short breath. “A long time to still be hung up on one girl, right?”
Jungkook presses himself against you, his crotch grazing your ass.
“You talk as if you’ve been waiting for me.”
You lean back far enough for your back to touch Jungkook’s chest. You were a weakling, you think, fully submitting to Jungkook so easily with little fight.
“Maybe I have.” responds Jungkook. His tongue glides against your neck. “Maybe I am as pathetic as you once used to say.”
Jungkook’s fingers reach your bra. He slides them up until both of his hands are engulfing your breasts. Gently, he squeezes them, the sensation has your eyelids fluttering a bit.
“I think back to how you treated me back then - when it was just you and me.” Jungkook strokes his tongue upwards. “How much of a bitch you were to me and how much I liked it.” he murmurs, his voice lowering in just a way that has your thighs clenching. “When you called me pathetic…when you’d say I was lucky to have you do that to me.”
You lick your lips. Your right hand gently clenches the cookies in your palm. Jungkook begins to rut his hips into you.
“You were pathetic.” you respond without thinking. For a moment, you stop. Your eyes snap open and your heart jolts - you didn’t want to upset Jungkook. He was the one that held all the power between the two of you. You couldn’t risk your mother's words being right or your son worrying about you.
However, Jungkook doesn’t appear to be upset. If anything, your statement seems to excite him further. He whimpers in your ear, his hold on you growing tighter.
“And that’s why I kept on.” you continue. “I wanted to see how far you’d let me go.”
“You knew I liked you.”
It isn’t a question. Jungkook wasn’t as subtle as he thought he was in his youth.
“I knew you liked me.” you nod. “That’s what made it more fun. I liked the flush look on your cheeks when I’d bend over.”
Jungkook squeezes your breast, his breath hitching - he remembers those days too. The first time you were wearing bright yellow panties that he thought about the rest of the day. So much so that the first thing he did when he got home was cum right into his hands at the thought of them; an action that left him feeling utterly disgusting afterwards.
“I liked when you’d stutter when I spoke to you. How you’d do whatever I wanted you to.”
Jungkook’s right hand lets go of your breast and slides them down - lower and lower - until they’re forcing its way into your pants.
“You were such a pervert, too.” you gasp when Jungkook’s fingers fingers your clothed clit. This was happening entirely too fast, but the both of you were enthralled, forgetting where you’re at. “Doing anything I told you to.”
“You knew I would.” Jungkook breaths as he twirls his fingers over the fabric.
“I was only teasing when I told you to smell my panties.” you giggle - which is soon followed by a moan with how much pressure Jungkook is putting in rubbing. “But you did it like the perverted little boy you were.”
“Stop acting like you didn’t like it.” Jungkook jerks his hips once more, his bulge hardened. “You liked how perverted I was. Isn’t that what made you jump on my cock?”
You gasp, Jungkook’s fingers finding their way between the moist fabric of your panties and planting themselves right on your clit.
“Maybe…” you swallow, your head falling back. He twirls his fingers roughly. “...I felt sorry for you.”
It’s a lie and you know it. You did like how perverted Jungkook was for you and you alone.
“Is that so?” Jungkook hisses. Another squeeze to your breast. “Is that why you told me I felt so good inside of you?”
Your eyes squeeze shut. Jungkook didn’t forget a second of that day - and it was only one time. Sometimes he thinks how many other times he could’ve had you if he hadn’t slipped up and admitted he loved you. It’s the reason why he doesn’t intend on letting you go anywhere now - making up for lost times, he tells himself.
Jungkook doesn’t know those feelings he felt for you all those years ago were reciprocated.
“Daaad!”
Instantly, Jungkook removes himself from you at the sound of Jinah’s voice. Her feet sound immediately after, paddling down the hall. You stumble, but catch yourself before you could fall.
Jinah enters the kitchen seconds later, eyes bright and wide and a smile on her lips.
“Jiji…” Jungkook trails off, looking at the small girl. “...remember what I said about coming in here while I’m cooking?”
Jinah nods her head. She’s holding a paper in her hands. “Accidents.” she murmurs. “Look!”
You turn, cookies in hand as Jinah shows what she has colored to Jungkook.
Jungkook is already rounding the corner, a tint to his cheeks. He washes his hands, eyes flickering to you for a mere moment before turning back to Jinah.
“That’s amazing.” Jungkook says, smiling down at his daughter. You watch him, unsure why you find him to be cute whenever he speaks to Jinah. He isn’t cocky, he isn’t demanding. He’s just Jungkook.
“It’s me and you and,” Jinah turns to you, pointing at her with her left hand. “Y/N!”
“I see.” Jungkook takes the paper from Jinah’s small hands. “And a dog…” he chuckles, his eyes flickering to the small blob at the corner of the page. “Want to see?”
Jungkook is speaking to you now. He furrows his brows.
“Y-Yeah.” you stutter. Your feet work for you, paddling towards Jungkook and Jinah. “Wow,” you say, your voice raising like it always did whenever you talk to her - or to small children in general. “It’s so nice.”
Jinah beams up at you and Jungkook in a way that has your heart jolting.
“Let’s go hang this up.” you speak to Jinah. “Right along with the other ones.”
Jungkook allows you to take the crayon drawing from his hands, avoiding his eyes. Then, Jinah takes your hand in her smaller ones and drags you down the hall, far more excited than he’s ever seen her before.
In Jungkook’s eyes, as a young teenager going through far too many hormones and emotions, you could do no wrong. It didn’t matter that he did almost all of your work and expected nothing in return - because your attention was enough.
Jungkook realized that you were becoming a bad habit - one that had him skipping classes whenever you asked. You and he would sit right behind the school, an area secluded by tall trees and shade that left the two of you completely hidden. He recalls that this was one of his favorite memories of you. Before you had mounted him, wrapping your bare pussy around his cock and he uttered those words, you’d tease him right here.
Still, your friends didn’t know and Jungkook was positive they never would. You were his secret, one he would take to the grave with him if it meant that he could remain as such.
“You are such a cutie without your glasses.” you’d tell him, removing the frames from him and offering a low grin, your lips glistening with gloss. You begin to chew calmly, as if savoring the minty gum in your mouth. Your lips sparkle with the right amount of shine underneath the shade.
You always thought that even with said glasses, Jungkook was handsome. “I bet all the girls tell you that.”
You’re teasing him, you always do. “I don’t talk to other girls.” he’d say, repeating it over and over again, a part of you (that you’d never admit) secretly enjoying that Jungkook was yours and yours only.
“How come?” you asked, feigning ignorance. “Don’t tell me you actually like me?” you giggled, this time instead of hovering above him, you take a seat right in his lap. Your skirt is short, as is every girl in your friend group, and it rides up when you sit. “You’re like a little dog, you know? Following me around and humping my leg.”
Jungkook swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. His pants are just as thin as your panties and he feels it all. He stiffens, his cock growing embarrassingly hard as the seconds roll by, and he knows you feel it, too.
“I was right.” you giggled, tilting your head to look at him. His tinted cheeks are as cute as him, as was the humiliated expression on his face. “You can be so pathetic at times, you know?”
Softly, Jungkook nods. “I know.” he agrees silently.
You watch Jungkook closely, your eyes trailing across his face. To his rosy lips, soft eyes, to the sharpness of his jawline. Jungkook doesn’t know what you’re thinking, and you like to keep it that way. You didn’t want him to become like the other boys in school.
You lean closer to Jungkook, your crotch rubbing against him. He lets out a soft whimper at the friction. His lips part, his eyes widening as he watches you. You’re chewing the gum, this time flattening said gum along your teeth, pushing your tongue through and blowing. It pops in his face, a breeze of mint tickling his nose.
“That’s okay, Kookie,” you tell him, both of your hands settling onto his face. He could die right here, he remembered thinking, and he would be fine with that - right underneath you and in your full control “I always wanted a dog.”
Your lips fall onto his and instantly, he tastes the coconut gloss. Your tongue forces his lips apart without a fight, your tongue sliding across his possessively until he feels soft, sticky texture against his own lips. Your hips jut so softly, teasing his hardened cock against you that he’s positive you’re toying with him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
When you pull away, Jungkook inhales and nearly chokes when the gum threatens to go down his throat.
“Excuse me -Y/N!”
You stop in your tracks at the sound of your name. You turn around with knitted brows. You’re holding a box that’s full to the brim with different envelopes and paper, all assigned for you to organize - only because Jungkook had nothing else for you to do while Jinah was at school. Currently, he’s in a work meeting just down the hall and in view, the windows showcasing the amount of people and possible investors inside.
“Oh,” you offer a smile at the man. Ren is his name. He sports a soft smile your way, pushing a black cart in front of him. “hello Ren. How are you?”
“Great!” Ren exclaims. “I noticed the box you’re holding is full. Need a hand?”
Ren is one of the many assistants here that do whatever they’re told. Coffee runs to answering phones to scheduling meetings. He is indeed pushing a cart that appears to have different arrays of office supplies. “Stocking up?”
Ren nods, going around the cart to take the box from your hands. He places it on top of his cart, pushing aside a stack of papers. “Sasha likes fresh inked pens every other day.” he states. “Kaede goes through paper like crazy, so he needs his printer to be stocked daily; insane right?”
You walk besides Ren as he makes his way down the hall. With each step, the conference room comes into view. Behind it, Jungkook is speaking, using his hands to motion as he does so. You ponder what he’s talking about, but you and Jungkook rarely speak of work.
“How is it working for the big boss?” Ren questions. “He scares me.”
You glance Ren’s way, snorting. “Jungkook scares you?” you ask, tone a bit teasing. However, as your mind thinks further into it, it was obvious why Ren would find Jungkook intimidating, especially when he was a small fish compared to the shark that was Jeon Jungkook.
“You…” Ren trails off, brown eyes widening a bit. “...call him by his name? He allows that?”
Your cheeks warm at the realization, now remembering that you were the only one that didn’t speak to Jungkook professionally. You didn’t want what you were doing behind the scenes to be outed and have everyone suspecting you fucked your way into a job - even if that’s exactly what you did.
“Mr. Jeon and I go way back!” you say quickly just as you were about to pass the conference room. For a moment, behind the glass, Jungkook looks your way. His eyes glance between you, then Ren, then back to you. “We went to the same high school.”
You take your eyes away from Jungkook to focus back on Ren.
“Oh.” Ren sighs out in what you swore was relief. “I see. You two must be good friends then.”
You and Ren stop at the elevator, your destination, the top floor where Ren’s never stepped foot in. He wonders if he was even allowed without Mr. Jeon present, but you step inside just as the doors open and motion for him to follow you. Once inside, he straightens his shoulders.
“Working with Mr. Jeon isn’t all that bad. He’s very punctual, but I suppose I understand why others might find him scary.”
The elevator moves, going higher and higher.
“Yeah.” Ren murmurs. “We don’t really cross paths often, but when we do it’s…” Ren hums. “...he seems very powerful, in a way.”
You snicker. “Really? You speak of him as if he’s some type of super villain.”
Ren himself chuckles, a tint growing on his cheeks. “I mean, he is powerful. Super wealthy and still so young. We all work directly under him in this company that he’s built. I suppose I would say I find him admirable.”
The elevator dings just as Ren finishes talking. As the door opens, Ren’s eyes widen at the luxurious sight; the same way you had when you first entered the same office months prior.
Your heels click as you step inside. “You can just put the box on my desk over there.” you tell Ren. “And, I know what you mean. Mr. Jeon is admirable…”
Ren pushes the cart into the office, the sudden feeling of being under dressed overcomes him. Suddenly, his shoes weren’t shiny enough, his shirt not the correct quiet luxury brand that he knows Mr. Jeon wears.
“What was he like in Highschool?” Ren questions. He grasps the box and does what you tell him to.
Ren is young, you note, and if you had to guess, possibly fresh out of college. You ponder if this was his first “real” job where he wishes to climb the corporate ladder. He still has a bit of a baby face, his eyes containing the twinkling sense of hope that died for you years ago.
You blink a few times, your mind drifting back to the quiet kid in the back of the class that was Jeon Jungkook. Shy, timid and though not a loner, only contained a small group of friends around him.
“Smart.” you respond. “Always the top of our classes. He’s helped me a lot with my own work.” you admit, that warm feeling coming back to your cheeks. “It isn’t surprising that he has all of this.” you wave your hand around, gesturing to not only the office, but to the entire company.
“You and him were good friends?”
Ren himself thinks maybe he’s asking too many personal questions, but you hadn’t glared at him yet like others had. During his time working for this company there was only a selected few who actually treated him kindly, you being one of them.
“We…lost touch after high school.” you avoid answering the question on whether you and Jungkook were friends. Could you call it that? You used Jungkook like a tool and he allowed it, hiding whatever “relationship” you and he had from your friends.
What would you tell Ren? ‘Yes, Mr. Jeon and I go way back that I even had a secret child with him who to this day he has no idea about!’ It wasn’t idealistic.
The elevator dings again. Ren turns his head to the sound, his eyes widening when Mr. Jeon steps through.
“Sir,” Ren bows his head a bit, his hands gripping the metal cart.
Jungkook blinks towards Ren. His eyes then trail towards you. “How’s the filing coming along?” he questions.
“Just about to get started.” you murmur, glancing back towards Ren behind Jungkook. “Ren was helping me bring it up here.”
Ren blinks, panic flowing through him when Jungkook turns back to him. “Oh.” is all the older man says.
“I’ll be taking my leave, Sir. Y/N.” Ren murmurs. He can feel his palms growing sweaty at being far too close to Mr. Jeon.
“You do that.” Jungkook says as he steps deeper into his office. He rounds his desk to sit down.
You glance at Ren as he enters the elevator. The door shuts before you could say your own farewells. You couldn’t shake off the sudden uneasy feeling that clouds the office, but you otherwise don’t say anything about it.
The next hour is met in silence as you do your job - filing paperwork, making copies and even scheduling in your work laptop. Jungkook himself is silent, typing away at his computer. He hadn’t said a word the entire time and you weren’t sure if that was good or not.
“What were you and Ren talking about?”
Another hour had passed when Jungkook had spoken. You look up from your laptop to offer him a glance.
“You.” you answer.
“What about me?” Jungkook scoffs.
“He finds you admirable.” you squint your eyes his way. “Asked what it was like working alongside you.”
Jungkook doesn’t say anything further, so you do.
“He reminds me of you.” you say truthfully, glancing back to your screen. You continue to type. “Back in Highschool. He still has that sparkle in his eyes.”
“Ah,” Jungkook hums. “you like that, don’t you?”
You stop typing. Slowly, your eyes trail up to Jungkook from your own desk. Your eyes connect with his.
“What does that mean?” you question.
Jungkook shrugs one shoulder. “You like that sparkle in his eyes.” he states coolly. “It’s like you have a radar for pathetic beings to take advantage of.”
“Excuse me?” you hiss, eyes widening at his words.
“What, Y/N, are you going to fuck him next?” Jungkook snickers. “Are you going to ruin that sparkle he has in his eyes, too?”
You bite the inside of your cheek until it throbs. Your hands clench slowly.
“What is this about?” you murmur dangerously low. “Are you jealous…of Ren?”
Jungkook scoffs before laughing entirely. “Please, Y/N.”
You close your laptop, glaring eyes piercing right through Jungkook. “I think you are.” you shrug. “Maybe through Ren you see what you once were.”
Jungkook doesn’t find anything funny anymore. He watches you push back your chair and stand.
“After all these years, you’re still upset about what happened in high school.”
Jungkook’s eyes dance down your figure. “Where are you going?” he questions as he witnesses you gathering your items.
“For lunch.” you state. “Maybe I’ll ask Ren if he wants to go anywhere-”
“You’re going to get that boy fired.” Jungkook spats. He stands, rounds his desk and stalks towards you. “Sit-”
You push yourself away from Jungkook as he grasps your arm. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”
“And you’re the bitch who lives a good life because of me.” Jungkook hisses right back. “You don’t get paid to flirt in front of my face. Is that the reason you asked for ‘more work’.”
“Flirting…flirting in your face?” you snap, now genuinely appalled by his words.
At least you were right, you think, Jungkook was jealous. To think someone like him with the amount of endless money and resources would be jealous of someone that found him admirable.
“Even with all this money and power you have, Kook, you’re still the same pathetic loser who I fucked and left all those years ago and nothing is going to change that.”
You stiffen at your own words. You didn’t mean to say it aloud - or at all - you were just upset. Only your mother knew how to pinch a nerve in you like that, and now Jungkook was jabbing that same nerve repeatedly.
Immediately, you squeeze your eyes shut and mentally curse at yourself. It was a sensitive topic for not only Jungkook, but for you, as well. When you were triggered, you’d resort back to the person you once was - a total bitch. Those words had your mind flashing rapidly - to the look on Jungkook’s face when you opened his letter, to those words your mother spoke to you; “I wanted you to be more than just a pretty face. Look at you now.”
“I didn’t mean-”
“Yes you did, Y/N. That’s okay.” Jungkook interrupts. At first, upon hearing the lack of malice in his voice, you thought maybe he was telling the truth. “You think you can do better without me?”
Jungkook’s voice is dangerously low. When your eyes flutter open, he’s directly in front of you. Those dark round eyes of his are hard, piercing right through you.
“You think…”
You yelp when Jungkook’s hand slams into your head, yanking a fist full of your hair.
“...you could do any better than what I give you? I may be the same pathetic loser, but you’re still the whore that needs my help.”
Jungkook presses himself against your body. Maybe it’s the way your eyes glared at him after you called him pathetic, or maybe it was just the words - whatever it was, it caused his cock to harden. Your words rang true to the core. Deep down inside, even with all the money and notoriety he’s gained remains the same boy who was shy and reserved. The boy who followed your every word - the boy who was still stuck on you for years to come.
You inhale through your nose, taking a deep breath. You and Jungkook lock eyes, neither of you speaking but the both of you seething - and entirely a bit too aroused by the other. What you and Jungkook had going on wasn’t ethical, but it was good. Even if you weren’t sure where it was going to lead to.
“The whore you fell in love with.” you murmur, your own eyes hardening. “What does that say about you, Mr. Jeon.”
Jungkook’s throats make a noise. He’s less angered now, finding the way you’re looking at him far too appealing. His grip in your hair softens.
“Do you still love me?” you ask rather boldly. It’s fast, but your eyes flicker to his lips, the beauty mark underneath said lips was something you always found cute, as weird as it sounded. “After all these years, Mr. Jeon?” your voice softens, teasing him further. “I bet after I broke your pathetic little heart, you tried to find me in every woman you’ve been with since then, huh?”
Jungkook licks his lips. Maybe your words were harsh - true, however - and it was weird, but he finds that his cock is twitching in his pants right now. Your eyes are glaring daggers into him with such anger and annoyance, but yet you’re still so beautiful. So alluring that he bucks his hips into you further.
“And none of them satisfied that itch that you obviously still have for me.”
Your hand reaches up to touch his hand that’s still in your hair. Jungkook’s throat makes another noise, a whimper that notifies not only him, but you, that you were far too correct.
“Admit you’re jealous.”
Jungkook furrows a brow, asking a silent question.
“Of Ren.” you murmur, slowly removing Jungkook’s tattooed hand from your head. Your thumb caresses the top of said hand, eyes watching Jungkook.
“I can never be jealous of someone who couldn’t take you from me.” Jungkook speaks coolly. “I’m pathetic but not incompetent. You’re right where you want to be. Where I want you to be.”
It’s weird that Jungkook has a switch to him. How he could freely admit that he was so pathetically down bad for you while also being so confident that whatever he felt you also reciprocated.
“How can you be so certain this is where I want to be?” you raise an eyebrow. “I could just be using you until I get bored.”
You aren’t expecting a low smirk to form onto Jungkook’s rosy lips. Sure, you aren’t too serious - it was just playful banter. But still, you wanted the man to gravel at your feet, not match your pettiness.
“You’re good for that, aren’t you?” Jungkook murmurs. “You want to hear me say that I’m jealous of another man to stroke your own ego, huh?”
Jungkook removes his hand from your own to place it onto your cheek. His thumb places itself on your lips, tracing it slowly. The closeness of the both of you causes heat to radiate off of one another. You can feel his bulge against you, the heartbeat between your legs only growing with each passing second.
“You aren’t leaving me.”
Unblinking are Jungkook’s eyes as he speaks; straight to the point. He doesn’t budge an inch, his closeness radiating even more heat that flows throughout your entire body underneath his gaze.
Jungkook is serious, but the way you hear it is not the way he intends. Your mind hears Jungkook’s “you aren’t leaving me” as if it's something you couldn’t afford to do. No, it wasn’t that at all. What Jungkook truly means is he wasn’t going to allow you to leave him again like you had all those years ago; shut him out and go your separate ways. Not again - not ever.
“You can’t stop me.”
And of course you spoke. You couldn’t help yourself. The smug look on Jungkook’s (handsome) face was enough for you to want to prove him wrong.
“If I wanted to leave, I could.” you continue. “Just be happy I haven’t yet.”
“But you aren’t going to.” Jungkook says, dropping his hand from your cheek to your neck.
Your lips part, a soft breath passing through as Jungkook’s palm cups your neck, fingers digging ever so gently into it.
“Did you think I was joking with you when I said that you’ll do as I say?”
With a free hand, Jungkook grasps your waist to bring you closer to him. His grip on your neck tightens.
“Before, I gave you a bit of a choice.” Jungkook murmurs, bringing himself closer to you. His nose grazes yours softly. “Now, however, I’m not.”
Jungkook’s lips are the softest pair of lips you ever tasted. You learned that though he was a man, he had a thorough routine that left his skin soft, his hair silky and smooth and his lips soft.
Even if your body craved for Jungkook that left an aching heartbeat between your legs, it’s your own will that pushes the man away - even if he didn’t go far. A slap sounds throughout the office so loud and sudden that it stuns even you.
Jungkook’s stinging cheek doesn’t upset him - no, the opposite. He’s even more excited by your action that he almost asks you to do it again.
“You talk as if I belong to you.” your eyes squint at the man.
“You do.” Jungkook responds without a second passing. “I’ll be damned if someone else gets to fuck this sweet pussy of yours.”
Jungkook’s hand finding their way into your skirt in a manner of seconds has you yelping. He cups your pussy, the heartbeat only growing more rapid. Your thighs clench around his hand for a moment, your reaction giving yourself away.
“You’re just a stubborn bitch is all, Y/N. You always have been.” Jungkook chuckles, licking his lips. “But I’m not a little boy who’s afraid of a challenge. You like to be chased,” he shrugs his shoulders, so nonchalant and cool. “so I’ll let you run.”
You hate how Jeon Jungkook makes your body feel - so warm and weak that your thighs tremble with anticipation. He has a hold on you that he’s never truly had before and that thought both frightens and excites you.
“I’ve had a long day so far.”
Jungkook’s fingers rub against your clothed pussy until the fabric grows damp with arousal.
“Meetings after meetings,” Jungkook licks his lips before continuing. “and at the end of it all, I come to you for relaxation. But all you’ve given me was attitude.”
“We aren’t going to rewrite history.” you murmur, because it’s the only way you could say it without your voice cracking. “You started with me.”
“I did.” Jungkook’s lip twitches upwards, attempting to avoid the smirk that would surely send you into a rage. “What do you want me to say, Y/N? That I was jealous?” he questions, adding more pressure to his rubs, his gaze hardening on your face for any ounce of expression. “You talking to Ren, no matter how much of a downgrade he is from me-”
You roll your eyes. Not completely out of pure annoyance from Jungkook’s audacity, but also because your pussy was growing wetter with each passing moment.
“-reminds me of when you’d do the same all those years ago. Toy with me just to go back to living your life.”
“You want me to apologize, Kookie?” your voice is so breathy; so full of need. Your eyes flutter a bit. “That you’re so insecure that even someone you deemed lesser than you has the possibility of stealing me away.”
Jungkook chuckles. He knows that you’re trying to get a rise out of him. Your degrading words are so sweet to his ears - they always have been. Instead of responding, his fingers dig into your panties and push them aside. He slides said fingers right on through and gathers more than enough of your juices all over him.
“You have the sweetest pussy, you know?” Jungkook continues to slide his invasive fingers until he finds your entrance. “She always gets nice and wet for me, too.”
You’re hoisted right against your desk, Jungkook pushing himself right between your thighs so you don’t have the chance to close them. He begins to pump inside of you as your gummy walls squeeze around him so sweetly.
“Cat got your tongue?” Jungkook leans closer. “Where did all that mouth go, baby? You know I like when you talk shit to me.”
Jungkook’s palm rubs against your clit as his fingers drill inside of you. You can feel your own hips buckling into him, a tiny part of your mind telling you to fight back, but your body wouldn’t listen.
“Oh, I forgot.” Jungkook snorts. “You know when to shut the fuck up when I’m inside you, right?”
Your pussy squelches so loud, as if responding for him before you had the chance to. It’s what he truly loves about you, amongst other things.
You cum hard around Jungkook’s fingers that you’re a trembling mess, but even then he replaces them with something bigger. He doesn’t hold back, either, as he plunges his cock deep inside of you. He does it so needily, as if proving an unspoken point.
The desk creaks beneath you, but it’s just added noise along with the grunts, moans, whimpers and slapping skin.
Your legs wrap around Jungkook, your hands snatching his expensive shirt to pull him closer to you. Your foreheads touch right as you capture his lips, an action he adores whenever he’s deep inside your pussy.
The kiss is just as lewd as the fucking is, saliva pooling from the corner of your mouth as your tongue fights against his, your squeezing cunt caging him in. Jungkook feels like he’s sinking deeper and deeper into you entirely, the world around him blurring until all he could focus on is you.
“-don’t stop~” you whimper against Jungkook’s lips.
“I’m not.” Jungkook grunts. “I waited all day to cum inside of you.”
You fall back against your desk and that allows Jungkook enough time to rip your own buttoned shirt open. He shoves your bra down just enough for him to grasp a fist full of your bouncing breast.
“You take me so well, baby.” groans Jungkook, your hardened nipple right against his palm. “If only you could see the way you look right now.”
You whine - because the way Jungkook looks now right above you is just as amazing. A bit of sweat lined his forehead, dark eyes clouded with lustful purpose. His perfectly trimmed eyebrows scrunched together in concentration.
“You’re so handsome, Kookie~” you moan, the pits of your stomach churning. “To think you’ve gone from the pathetic little boy who’d hump my leg if I asked, to a man.”
Jungkook’s breathing hitches, his palms tightening on your breast. Your words get a rise out of him, one that has his hand wrapping around your neck firmly. “Yeah?” he snorts. “I’m not that same boy.”
“You are.” your body squirms, his cock drilling deeper and deeper that you’re surprised you can even form words still. “Still so pathetic.”
Jungkook’s tip hits right at your cervix, so hot and merciless. Your squelching pussy enjoys every assaulting second of it.
“And yet here you are,” Jungkook barks back. “allowing me to use your pussy to my liking. You’re just as pathetic as me, baby.”
“I never said I wasn’t.” you spat back, followed by a string of curses that has your stomach sinking in. Then, your bratty tone changes entirely and you mewl out a “I’m cumming!”
“I know you are, baby. Let it go.” Jungkook chuckles, ramming his cock in you; deep, filthy and sloppy.
Your cunt is sopping, a creamy white ring decorates his cock. He grumbles to himself at the sight of you - then at the audacity to think that he’d ever let you leave him again. The past several months he had grown accustomed to your presence in his office and his home - and his bedroom. He enjoyed the lingering aroma of your perfume that stuck to him that got him through until he saw you next.
Jungkook liked to think he was a territorial man, not a jealous one. He knew how you were with those you deemed lesser than you - and Ren was exactly that. A weakling with sparkling eyes and full of hopefulness; eager to please anyone around him. It didn’t disgust Jungkook entirely until he saw the man and you made your way up the elevator.
Again, Jungkook was territorial, and he’d be damned if he allowed you to demean and walk all over a man that wasn’t him.
Your body shudders entirely, twitching underneath Jungkook’s pumping cock. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your body twitching due to overstimulation. His hand is wrapped firmly around your neck, not letting you go until he’s had enough of you.
And after all you’ve said to him, you’re sure he was claiming dominance over you.
“You look so pretty like this, baby. Fucked out, whimpering…”
Your gummy walls continue to consume him entirely, bringing him in deeper and deeper. The desk scraps aggressively underneath you. The slapping of his skin against yours is an added base, one he couldn’t get enough of.
“I still have another meeting to get to,” Jungkook groans, his eyes hardening. He could take you another 3 times if he could just to show you how serious he is about claiming you as his. “but tonight I want you in my bed.”
Jungkook lets go of your neck to trail his hand down your body and right between your legs. His thumb presses at your clit and he circles the bud, licking his lips at how your thighs clench.
“Slow d-down!” you stutter, but the way your pussy squeezes him tells Jungkook that you love the way he’s touching you. “It’s too much.”
“You can handle it.” Jungkook chuckles. “It feels better when we cum together, baby, and you’ve already came twice.”
Your lower back arches as your hands reach out to grasp onto anything for support. Your rolling eyes has Jungkook far too smug because it was him who was doing this to you. It was him who had you completely fucked out and creaming all over his cock like the slut you’ve always been.
Him, Jungkook thinks. He finds that he often dwells in the past and thinks of the “what if’s”. What if he hadn’t ruined things between the two of you - would you have continued to see him? Even if it was just as an outlet for you to demean and taunt him. Would you have grown to like him as something more?
Now, Jungkook finds that living in the past and constantly thinking of the “what if’s” would do nothing for him. Instead, he had to see what you and he could be in the present - and right now, more than anything, you were his.
“-too much!” you squeal, your squelching pussy growing louder and louder. There isn’t any use in closing your legs as Jungkook isn’t allowing it - not until you’re cumming all over him again. The pleasure is intense and painful, your body trembling right on top of the desk pathetically.
“I know you can handle it, baby.” Jungkook grumbles, his eyes dancing between your creamy pussy to your face. “Where’s the slut with the bitchy attitude?”
Jungkook himself isn’t going to last much longer.
Jungkook catches your eyes fluttering open, glossy and lustful, stare right at him.
“Ah, theeeerrree she is.” Jungkook smirks. He adds pressure to your wet clit. “
“Fu-uck you.” you breathe right before cumming yet again, just as pleasured as before but this time with added pain due to the overstimulation. Goosebumps litter your skin, your head falling back against the desk.
“Fuck~” Jungkook hisses, shooting hot, sticky cum right inside of you.
Jungkook falls on top of you, his cock continuing to twitch until there is nothing left. His head is in your chest, listening as your heart beats erratically, your breathing hitched.
“I-”
Jungkook is cut off. The elevator began to sound and that only meant one thing. “What the fuck?” he hisses, annoyed. He removes himself from you. “Why did Lei let someone up without informing me first?”
Jungkook pulls his pants up and tightens his belt. “Maybe it’s Lei herself.” he murmurs to himself. His eyes look down at you and whistles. “Get dressed, baby. Don’t want her to see how good I’ve fucked you, right?”
The elevator continues to ding, indicating that it’s drawing nearer and nearer.
You button up your shirt with trembling hands. You find your panties on the ground and scramble to pull them up and attempt to make yourself presentable. “I fucking hate you sometimes.” you hiss at Jungkook.
“Yeah, I bet you do.” Jungkook retorts.
You roll your eyes and run a hand over your head. Your hair was now frizzy, your once neat but now appearing entirely fucked up.
“I’m serious. I don’t want Lei to think-”
“That you’re fucking me?” Jungkook interrupts. “Fucking your boss?”
Jungkook rounds the corner and sits back at his desk. He sends a sly smirk your way.
“Maybe I should fuck you in front of everyone-”
“Jungkook-”
The elevator sounds before the doors open. You straighten your shoulders, waiting for Lei to walk through.
Only Lei doesn’t walk through.
Your eyes widen and your body runs cold.
“Tae?” you murmur at the sight of your son. His eyes glance around the office. He appears much like you did when you first arrived. “What…w-what are you doing here?”
Jungkook’s eyebrows knit. His mind racks in his mind. Tae…
Ji-tae.
Jungkook’s eyes watch as the younger boy steps into the office. It’s eerily silent on your end.
“Ma,” Ji-tae responds. “grandmother told me you worked here.”
Ma, Jungkook thinks. The words ring through his ears over and over again. His eyes drag towards you. You’re entirely stiff, your eyes wide and from here he notes, a bit glossy.
“Why aren’t you in school?” you swallow the lump in your throat. You take a deep breath. “H-How did you even get-”
“Got out early.” Ji-tae responds. His eyes glance to Jungkook to find the older man is already staring at him. “I’ve passed all my finals and didn’t need to be there.”
Your own eyes look towards Jungkook. Your heart jolts when, at the exact moment, his eyes dart back to you. That look in his eyes; that of realization. He’s done the calculation in his head, and even if he hadn’t, Ji-tae looked far too much like him for the man to not put it together.
Ji-tae’s eyes scans your appearance. His eyes squint just a bit.
“Let me take you home.” your knees feel weak when you walk towards your desk and grab your bag.
“You didn’t tell me you had a son.”
Jungkook rises from his seat. Ji-tae’s eyes glanced at him once more.
“I’m going to take him home.” you don’t look Jungkook’s way. You needed to get out of this situation immediately. “I-I’ll be-”
“Am I interrupting?”
Jungkook furrows his brows at the younger boy. He wasn’t talking to you, but to him.
“Of course not.” your heels click against the ground as you make your way towards Ji-tae.
“You must be smart to pass all of your finals so early on.”
Your trembling hand wraps around your son's wrist.
Jungkook thinks it’s like staring into a mirror when he looks at Ji-tae, the younger boy's glaring eyes staring right back at him.
“Yeah.” is all Ji-tae says as you tug him towards the elevator. You press the button and nearly shove your son inside with you.
“Y/N” Jungkook calls just as you press the button to the lobby. “we’ll talk another time.”
Jungkook watches the way your eyes meet his as the elevator doors closes.
trivia-yandere: okay… 👁️ so what are we thinking?? like ofc this isnt the og version i was going with but like, i actually like the drama of a secret kid that a few ppl suggested. soap opera vibes 🤪
Genre: fantasy!au, demon!au, haunted apartment, horror (its not too bad bc im a coward guys), slow burn, forced proximity, supernatural romance, angst.
Summary: Jungkook is trapped in an attic, cursed to win affection from those who fear him most. Every tenant has fled until you move in. With your budget and patience on the line, you refuse to leave. Now you’re stuck sharing a space with a creature no priest, shaman, or exorcist can get rid of, and neither of you can escape.
Warnings: NSFW (yes yall you read that correctly), mentions of wanting to die, supernatural themes, slow burn, forced proximity, mild language.
Word count: 13k..... sorry not sorry yall
a/n: i love this chapter, writing it was so fun 🤩 so i hope you guys enjoy this chapter too!! only good things ahead, i hope 🤭 OH just another thing, i have an assignment i need to finish so chapter 16 might not be out until i submit that assignment 😭
good luck!
check out my: masterlist | banner creds to: vzzartt
The East Citadel of Kratos, one governed by the Kim, operates differently from the North.
Where the Jeon citadel was built on mountaintops, where it’s cold and quiet, the Kim territory was built on a more desert-like area and it runs on information and gossip. Every corridor, every house, and every room in the East have ears in it and every visitor who crosses into Kim territory did so knowing that the moment they set foot inside its borders, the Kim already knew things about them.
Seokjin was prepared for this.
The Demon who owed him the favor, Aria, was old and powerful enough in the East that it was easy for Seokjin to get clearance from the East exterior checkpoints. A Demon prince walking around outside of his territory is calling for trouble. So, Seokjin spent the past couple of days trying to mask his energy so that it wouldn’t be as recognisable.
Seokjin did not go to the Kim citadel itself.
The city surrounding it was where Seokjin needed to be.
East Kratos, like all parts of Kratos, does not only own a single fortress or main citadel, there are smaller fortresses and villages around it. These districts of villages where Seokjin is walking towards, are built up outside the citadel walls where Demons with lower rankings or bloodline lived.
Seokjin walked in the East with his core energy pulled inward to not attract attention. He was walking towards the residence of Eris whose address he extracted from Aria.
When Seokjin finally reached just outside of the house, he looked around, taking in his surroundings. The house was unremarkable, almost run down on the outside, which meant Eris must have specific reasons for wanting to be overlooked as she was not of lower ranking, not until the incident that is.
Seokjin knocked once, and even before he took his hand off the door, it opened. Eris was waiting right near her door, she sensed the Demon walking towards her house from metres away, and it has truly been awhile since she sensed a non-Kim Demon energy.
She looked at him for exactly one second, before her expression changed to disgust and disappointment, "Ugh," Eris said, "it's the wrong brother."
Seokjin took a good look at Eris.
She was exactly as he remembered from the last time their paths crossed before the incident where she tried to kill Jungkook and Jophiel. Erin has pale skin, long black hair, and a small cross tattooed on the center of her forehead as mockery to The Ancient One, and while most Demons had eyes with veins across it, her eyes were nothing but white.
Seokjin smiled at the one crazy weapon he needed, "You could invite me in?”
"I could also close the door," she said in amusement.
"You could," Seokjin agreed, "but you won't, not until you hear what I have to say."
Eris studied him for some time, her white eyes moving over him, assessing what Seokjin was looking for and whatever it was he actually wanted under whatever he might claim to want. Then she stepped aside to let Seokjin enter her humble abode.
The interior of the house was exactly what Seokjin expected from her: excessive and tacky. From this alone, Seokjin could tell that Eris is still hung up on his brother. Because the Eris from back then, the Demon she was before she went rogue, was a Demon woman who could pick any Demon in Kratos and have them head over heels for her, she even had that angel, Jophiel, kissing her ground.
"Give me your little brother," Eris demanded, standing by the windows with her arms folded.
Seokjin sat in the chair right across where Eris was standing without being invited to, "That's actually why I'm here."
"Is it?" Eris said, tilting her head as she batted her eyelashes at him.
"I can help you get him," Seokjin restated.
Eris looked at him before laughing, "Oh yes? And how exactly are you going to do that? You cursed your brother to earth, he's been stuck there for hundreds of years," she tilted her head, “are you going to send me there too?"
Seokjin opened his mouth, stopped, and then closed it again, "Huh," Seokjin said quietly, "why didn't I think of that?"
"Because," Eris said giggling, "you are the dumb brother."
The smile dropped from Seokjin's face and his energy, which he has been keeping carefully controlled since he entered Kim territory, pressed outward slightly before he pulled it back again, if Seokjin lost control, he would lose all his progress.
Seokjin held Eris’ gaze for a few minutes, clenching his jaw, before finally exhaling slowly through his nose. Seokjin has to be the bigger Demon here, he has to be patient for this to work.
The woman in front of him is nothing, doesn’t even have a high rank anymore after she went uncontrollable.
"What if I told you," Seokjin said, his voice a little bit higher to show her that he is an accomplice, though it took him visible effort to do this, "that he is no longer on earth?"
Eris said nothing.
"What if I told you," Seokjin continued, "that the curse was broken? That Jungkook is back in the North Citadel, right now, as we speak?"
Still nothing from Eris, but her posture changed, very slightly, but Seokjin has been reading Demons his entire life and he caught it.
"And," Seokjin added, keeping his voice entirely casual about it, "he has a woman beside him now."
The silence that followed was different from the ones before it.
Eris turned her head towards the window, her arms were folded against her chest tightly. To be told that her supposed-to-be "lover" was back and reachable again, Eris would be lying to say she wasn’t excited, "You're lying," she said.
"You know I'm not," Seokjin replied.
And Seokjin was right, Eris knew he was not lying, because she could sense that he wasn’t. Seokjin was telling the truth, and she knew it. Although every Demon believed she went rogue, Eris is still very much capable of doing anything she wants. She was and still is one of the most intelligent Demons from the East.
Eris turned her head back to look at him, and her expression turned colder and much more dangerous, before demanding more from the Demon prince in front of her, "Tell me more."
"She was a human girl," Seokjin said, and he purposefully slowed down when saying the word human, "not even a Demon. Well, she is now, she’s a human turned Demon. She was born a human, she lived a human life, and she managed to break a curse that was designed to be unbreakable."
"How does it feel?” Seokjin continued, muttering his next words slowly for Eris to clearly hear it, "to know that you, a pure Demon, a Demon with centuries of power behind you, could not get Jungkook's attention? But a mere human girl could?"
The silence that stretched out after that sentence was the longest one yet since Seokjin came into her house.
Eris did not look at Seokjin.
Her gaze stayed fixed on the wall behind Seokjin, her jaw clenched so tightly she was prepared for it to break, "Tell me more," she demanded once again of the Demon prince.
Seokjin smiled.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
"I went to the land of the necromancers," Seokjin started.
Eris raised her eyebrows, she didn’t know whether to see Seokjin as an impressive or idiotic Demon. Necromancers live in the most isolated realm, a tough one to get into. The land of the necromancers was not designed for living creatures to easily walk through. A creature would have to be desperate to seek out a necromancer as reaching their realm alone was a gamble with death.
"That," Eris said slowly, "was not an easy trip, was it?”
"The necromancer's realm is known for that," Seokjin confirmed.
"How long did it take you to find them?" Eris asked curiously.
"That is not relevant," Seokjin said.
"It took you a long time,” Eris smirked.
"I said it's not relevant," Seokjin said as he shot her a glare that Eris just brushed off.
"I guess you succeeded then," Eris said, "clearly, I mean, you're here."
"The necromancer was," Seokjin added, "persuaded."
"Necromancers are not persuaded easily," Eris said as she studied him again, reading everything he wasn't saying which was the more interesting part of the conversation.
"No," Seokjin smiled, “they do not."
"How many did you have to get through before you found the one who would help you?" she asked.
"Ten," he replied.
Eris lets out a giggle, "The dumb brother who walked into necromancer territory alone, past ten of them who refused to help him, actually came out to the other side successfully."
"I told you," Seokjin said, visibly angry and annoyed, "I am not the dumb brother.”
"You are absolutely the dumb brother," Eris said, rolling her eyes before adding, "but you are also, very apparently, the stubborn one. Oh well, explain whatever you received from the necromancer," Eris said, settling into the chair across from him, "how it works, what it costs, and what the limits are."
“The magic will allow you to borrow energy and appearance from a dead Demon from the North, her name was Ymir. She was a lower-rank soldier, and she was not significant enough to be widely known, as long as you do not visit the villages in the most eastern part of North Kratos, no Demon will know who you are. She was born in the North which means her energy carries the territorial imprint. So with this dark magic, the founding energy of the North will see you as Ymir,” Seokjin explained.
Seokjin took a small breath before continuing his explaination, "The necromancer's dark magic works in layers. Think of it like an armour placed over your energy rather than your body. Your actual energy will still be there underneath Ymir’s energy. The beauty of this magic is that it will make any other Demon see you as Ymir from the North Citadel."
Eris absorbed this new information rather quickly, "So you want me to pretend to be Ymir and do what exactly?”
“Befriend ____,” Seokjin replied, “and once she trusts you, I want you to take her to me.”
Eris stared at him in disbelief, “You want me to go into the North Citadel as Ymir and make friends with the human girl.”
"The former human," Seokjin said.
"That distinction is not the part I'm questioning," Eris responded.
Seokjin leaned back against his seat slightly, "Think about her situation. She arrived in the North against her will, she knows almost no one. The Demons in the North have made it clear that she is not welcome within it, they call her impure and they refuse to associate with her, and the only protection she has is Jungkook's name over her head which, given that she is currently furious at Jungkook, is a protection she probably resents needing."
Eris said nothing to that, expecting more information out of Seokjin.
"She also has an angel who visits when his obligations allow," Seokjin continued, "and Woojin, who is loyal to Jungkook before he is anything else. That is her entire world in Kratos. A being in that position, newly turned, grieving everything she lost, isolated in a citadel that despises her existence, when a Demon approaches her with warmth and no personal agenda, she will want to trust you. She won't be able to help herself, it's just in the human instinct she still carries and will carry for a very long time."
"An angel?" she questioned.
"Yes," Seokjin said.
"Which angel?" Eris asked. As a Kim, she had a feeling of which angel it would be. She knows only Jophiel can easily enter and exit the North. But she wanted to hear it from Seokjin’s mouth, she wanted to hear the confirmation from him.
“Jophiel,” Seokjin smiled, before adding, “he has been visiting her every day.”
“So," Eris said, very quietly, "she has Jungkook."
"Yes," Seokjin nodded.
"And Jophiel," Eris continued.
"It would appear so," Seokjin replied with a smile.
“How do you know all of this if you have been on the run?” Eris asked suspiciously.
“I have someone inside. A Demon who has served in the citadel long enough that no other Demon will be suspicious of him. I have been building this for longer than you might expect. I understood that if I ever needed to move against the North from the outside, I would need eyes on the inside."
"Who is it?" Eris asked.
"That," Seokjin said, smiling, "is not something I'm going to tell you."
Eris observed the Demon prince in front of her, "And this demon tells you everything."
"Yes," Seokjin said, “the political movements happening after my betrayal became known, the reaction to the human girl's presence, what Woojin is doing, what the King is doing, what Jungkook himself is doing on any given day."
Eris believed Seokjin, he had no reason to lie to her. But the most pressing matter to her now is that a human has the two creatures she used to be with.
"Both of them," Eris snapped, "a formerly human Demon who has existed for less than a month, has managed to have both of them wrapped around her fingers?”
Seokjin said nothing, he understood that this was not a moment that required his input.
"I want her gone from the North," Eris said, and the words came out very clearly, "I want her gone from Jungkook, and I want her gone from Jophiel, and I want it done before she spends another day sitting in a room in my citadel having both of the things that are mine."
"Then we understand each other perfectly," Seokjin said, “but Eris, I do not want you to kill her until we reel Jungkook into the camp.”
“What camp?” Eris asked, a clear confusion across her face.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Seokjin settled back, he had the look of a Demon who was excited to tell another being about a plan he had been building, a plan he was proud of, "I have been in the Lee territory," Seokjin said, "for the past several years, building something."
Eris stared at him, "You have been living in Lee territory?"
"Well near it," Seokjin said, "there is a stretch of land on the border between the North and the South, disputed territory that neither citadel has formally claimed in several generations because the cost of holding it has never been worth the effort. I have been living there with my followers."
"The Lee and the Jeon have never had a mutual understanding," Eris said carefully, “in the entire recorded history of Kratos."
"No," Seokjin agreed, “which is why no one will be looking for me there."
The Lee citadel was the largest army in Kratos. They are aggressive, territorial, and has a grudge against the North that predated most living Demons.
"Doesn't the Lee wants the North weakened?" Eris asked slowly.
"The Lee have always wanted the North weakened," Seokjin said, “I simply gave them a reason to want it now and a plan for how to achieve it."
"You're going to war with the North," Eris said, finally grasping what Seokjin isn't saying directly.
"I'm going to correct a problem that has been building for a very long time," Seokjin replied, "The Lee have numbers. I have knowledge of the North's interior, its weaknesses, its points of access, and a Demon inside its walls who can tell me exactly where everyone will be on any given day. Together, those things are sufficient."
"Sufficient for what exactly?" Eris said.
"To kill Jungkook," Seokjin said plainly, “and the King."
"Both of them?" Eris asked.
"Yes, I need both of them dead," Seokjin confirmed, “killing Jungkook alone solves nothing. The King would simply rebuild the North, appoint a successor, and the North would continue. The throne requires the King's death and Jungkook's."
"And then you take the throne?" Eris asked.
"And then I take the throne," Seokjin replied, “yes."
Eris was quiet for a few seconds before telling Seokjin her opinion, "The North will not accept you after this. You are a traitor to the citadel. You cursed the second prince and you allied with the Lee, the North’s biggest enemy. There is not a demon in the North who would bend a knee to you after all of that."
"There are always demons who will bend a knee to whoever is standing when the fighting stops," Seokjin said, “Is that not the oldest truth in Kratos? Loyalty follows power, not history. The whole Kratos has always known that. It is written into the founding law of every citadel, any Demon strong enough to take the throne has the right to hold it. Bloodline means nothing if someone stronger challenges it successfully."
"So you plan to simply walk in after Jungkook and the King are dead and claim it by right of conquest?" Eris said.
“Yes,” Seokjin simply said.
Eris let out a small sigh, "The Lee will want something in return for this."
"The Lee wants territory," Seokjin said, “specifically the southern border of the North and I have agreed to cede it once the throne is mine."
"The North will never accept that either," Eris said, "giving a territory to the Lee after a war? You will spend the entirety of your reign managing uprisings from your own citadel."
"Managing uprisings is considerably easier than not having a throne to manage them from," Seokjin replied flatly.
"You have been building toward this since before you cursed him," Eris stated.
"I have been building toward this since I understood that my father would never name me heir. That regardless of what I did or how powerful I became, the King has already decided. Jungkook was his choice from the very beginning and everything I did was always going to be insufficient because the decision was never actually about capability."
Eris did not know what to say to that.
"The girl," Seokjin continued, returning his voice to its usual register, "is the key that will take Jungkook out of the North. He will have his army with him to save her, and when he is away with soldiers, that is when I will attack the North. So, ____ is the one variable that guarantees Jungkook moves when I need him to move. And that is why I can not have you kill ____ before Jungkook attacks."
"And after," Eris said, “once she has served that purpose, what will you do then?"
"That is entirely outside my interest. The throne is what I want. What happens to a formerly human Demon is not a problem I intend to spend any time on," Seokjin replied.
Eris nodded slowly, before looking at him directly and said, "If this works and you take the North. The Lee will not stay contained to the border territory you promised them, you know that."
"I know that," Seokjin agreed.
"Managing the Lee from the North throne, after using them to take it, will be the defining challenge of your entire reign," Eris said, “they are not the kind of army that helps you win a war and then goes home quietly."
"No," Seokjin said, “they are not."
"And you still think this is worth it?" Eris asked.
"I think," Seokjin answered, "that the North Citadel has been my birthright since before I could walk. I think I have spent my entire existence being told in every subtle way that it would never be mine. And I think that yes, managing the Lee is a significant problem,” Seokjin paused, “but it is a problem I would very much like to have."
“So,” Eris said after a long moment of silence, “what do I get in return for all of this?”
Seokjin looked at her, "Jungkook."
Eris stared at him, “You just spent the last few minutes telling me your plan to kill Jungkook."
"I said you get Jungkook," Seokjin repeated, “I didn't specify whether he would be alive or dead."
"That is not an answer," Eris said flatly.
"You go into the North as Ymir," Seokjin sighed before continuing, "you befriend the girl, you take her to the camp on day six, and Jungkook comes for her. At that point, what happens to him is between you and me and the Lee army."
“You want him dead," Eris said.
"I need him removed from the equation," Seokjin said carefully, “those are not always the same thing."
Eris narrowed her eyes, "You're offering me Jungkook as a reward while simultaneously planning to kill him, those two things cannot both be true at once."
"Can't they?" Seokjin said.
"No," Eris said, her white eyes fixed on him, “they cannot, either he is dead or he is mine. Pick one."
"What I need," Seokjin finally replied, "is for Jungkook to not be on the North throne. I need him to be unable to challenge me. I need him to not be a problem.”
“I’ll lock him up somewhere,” Eris replied, “or I’m not doing this at all.”
“It would be better for me if he was dead,” Seokjin stated, “a dead Jungkook cannot escape, cannot be freed by an angel or by some other variable I failed to account for.”
“I know ways to lock him up, if you give him to me I will help you pretend being Ymir, if not then I will not do this at all,” Eris threatened.
Keeping Jungkook alive was a variable Seokjin did not plan for. He thought Jungkook would just be a ticking bomb that could explode if he was just imprisoned somewhere.
Seokjin approached Eris thinking she would have wanted Jungkook dead as well. But Eris was the only piece on the board who could walk into the North as someone else, and she has the personal motivation to do this, especially with Jungkook and Jophiel, the two men she used to own, now wrapped around a human girl. Seokjin could always correct the ending later, once the throne was his and Eris has served her purpose.
Seokjin sighed before finally agreeing, “Fine. But, I will have to see whatever you will be doing to him to ensure he won’t escape.”
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Eris observed Seokjin after he finished speaking, there was something in her realisation that was not admiration but was closer to it than she wanted to admit. Then Eris said, "You do know that every King of Kratos can see what is happening within their own territory."
Seokjin said nothing to that, letting Eris continue.
"Who enters," Eris continued, "and who exits the territory. The founding energy of each citadel feeds directly into its King. Your father sits on that throne and the North tells him everything,” Eris tilted her head, her white eyes fixed on him, "How do you know he is not already on you? How do you know he hasn't been watching every single thing you have been building from the moment you left?"
"Oh, I know he is on me," Seokjin said simply without an ounce of fear.
Eris blinked at his confession, "You know?"
"I know he is watching," Seokjin said, "I know he is aware that I have followers. My father has never been someone who misses things, I am not foolish enough to believe I have been invisible to him."
"Then," Eris said slowly, "you are building a war camp on the border of the North's territory with a following of some Demons, and your father, the King who can see everything within his territory, knows about you and you are still here?”
"Yes," Seokjin said.
"Why hasn't he moved against you already?" Eris asked.
"Because," Seokjin said, "what he does not know is that the Lee is backing me. He can see my camp and my followers. But the Lee’s involvement is hidden behind their own territorial energy. The Lee and I never meet on the same ground. Every communication, every negotiation, and every agreement between myself and the Lee has happened with them standing on their side of border territory and me standing on the North. We are always in separate territories when we speak, the Lee on the Southern side of the line, while my followers and I on the Northern side of the line."
Seokjin smiled proudly before continuing, “My father knows I am a threat, but he does not know how large the threat actually is.”
"Your father does not just sense activity within his territory," Eris replied carefully, "you know that. Your father sees what is coming, not just what is happening now, but what will happen. That is not the same thing as being one step behind you."
Seokjin went quiet.
"So I will ask you again," Eris continued, "why has he not moved against you already? And this time, do not tell me it is because he cannot see the Lee's involvement. Your father sees the future, Seokjin. If this ends badly for you, he has already seen it."
"My father's sight is not like The Ancient One's," Seokjin said, "he does not see all futures. He reads the threads connected to his bloodline and his territory. He can sense when something threatens the bloodline. But the Lee exists outside that thread and I exist outside that thread now. I burned that connection."
Eris considered that, "So he is blind to you specifically?"
"Not blind," Seokjin said, "just limited. He can see what is coming but not the full picture of how it is happening, and maybe," Seokjin said slowly, "the futures where he stops me are not futures he can win either."
"You think he has seen every version of this," Eris said, "and the one he chose to allow is this one."
"I think," Seokjin replied, "that a King who can see futures and still does nothing is not a King who missed something. He is a King who looked at every possible outcome and decided that the ones where he intervenes end worse than the ones where he does not."
Eris said nothing to that, which was, for Eris, basically an admission that she had no counter argument, then, she let out a small laugh, "This plan is either the smartest thing I have heard in decades," she said, "or the most catastrophically insane."
"Am I not the dumb brother anymore?" he added.
Eris looked at him for a long moment, her white eyes moving over his face, reassessing the Demon in front of her, "You are," she said finally, "either the dumbest Demon currently alive in Kratos, or the craziest one."
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Jophiel, on your thirteenth day of your second life in Kratos, arrived on a rather late morning, or at least what passed as a morning in this Hell hole.
You were standing in front of the mirror, head tilted slightly, as if trying to make sense of the person looking back at you. Your eyes moved over the clothes Woojin gave you, a loose white blouse with the sleeves rolled to your elbows, tucked into a dark brown leather corset and dark trousers. It seemed to be the fashion sense in Kratos, the Demons all wore clothes that are more made for movement than comfort.
You still weren’t entirely sure how you felt about it. The clothes fit well and the corset wasn't entirely uncomfortable. But they weren’t yours. You looked at your reflection for another moment, before finally looking away.
To Jophiel, this was progress. You looking at yourself in the mirror at all was progress. But he did not mention it out loud, Jophiel knew better than to draw attention to it. He knew if he called out your progress, you would only feel bad about moving on with your new life.
Jophiel came into your room carrying two things.
One was a stack of books, which you already expected because he has been bringing human books to you, but the stack today was higher than usual, there were six books instead of the usual two, and your face brightens up just from seeing them and you couldn’t help the huge smile already forming on your face.
The other thing he was carrying was a small container, with a blue and pink label, and was clearly earth-based because nothing in Kratos, at least from what you have seen so far, came in packaging like that.
You stood there in shock, "Is that… is that what I think it is?" you questioned.
"Baskin Robbins," Jophiel confirmed as he nodded, and he set the tub on the desk near your bed, he felt proud of himself for getting the human dessert.
You walked over to the desk, grabbed the tub of ice cream, turned it over in your hands and read the flavour label, Strawberry Cheesecake.
"How did you get this?" you asked, your eyes gleaming with excitement.
"I stopped by earth before coming here," Jophiel said, sitting on the edge of the bed, "there is a Baskin Robbins near your place,” Jophiel smiled at you.
You looked up at him, clearing your throat, "You went to my neighbourhood?"
"I did," Jophiel said, "I also walked past the school, and the children are doing well, for what it's worth. And I saw your friends too, they seemed to be doing well."
For a moment, you said nothing. Your fingers tightened slightly around the ice cream tub, and you looked down at it instead of looking at Jophiel. The mention of your old neighbourhood felt warm and painful at the same time.
“Thank you!” you said, a little too brightly. The excitement was real, but so was the ache underneath it. For one brief second, you could see it all again, the streets, the school, the faces you used to know, and the life that continued without you.
"They gave me some spoons, I put it somewhere in my coat pocket," Jophiel said, trying to distract your mind that was about to spiral, as he reached into his coat and took out two plastic spoons with the Baskin Robbins logo on them.
You opened the container and took out one of the spoons, handing one to Jophiel just as the door to your room opened. You did not need to look to know who it was, you knew it was Woojin.
He comes every day around this time with your lunch tray, though he never steps inside. He only opens the door for a few inches, placing the tray near the door, and leaves without a word. It has become routine by now, predictable enough that you knew it was him.
"Woojin!" you called out.
"Yes?" Woojin's voice came through the gap of the door.
"Come in," you said.
Then the door pushed open, and Woojin appeared in the doorway. His eyes went first to Jophiel, then to you, and then, very slowly, to the opened container of ice cream between you and Jophiel.
"Sit down," you said, gesturing to the chair near the bed.
"What is that?" Woojin asks as he’s walking towards where you and Jophiel are.
"Ice cream," you answered excitedly, “it’s a dessert from Earth and it’s strawberry cheesecake flavored."
"Ice? Is it cold food?" Woojin asked in confusion.
"Yes, it is cold," you replied, “that’s the point."
You held out your spoon to Woojin, wanting him to try it first before you, "You're having some."
Woojin looked at the spoon and saw Jophiel, who was sitting next to you, visibly enjoying Woojin’s suffering, "I do not require food," Woojin stated.
"Mhmm.. I know," you said, “but you're having it anyway."
From beside you, Jophiel let out a small laugh and did a terrible job pretending it was a cough.
Woojin then sat directly across from you and Jophiel, he clearly did not agree to participate in whatever this was, but he was outpowered by social pressure, especially by the angel.
You pushed the container towards him and Woojin looked at it for a long moment before finally scooping up a small portion. He held the spoon in front of his face, observing the ice cream. Woojin’s expression was grim, but he put it in his mouth anyway.
"Well?" you asked.
Woojin was quiet for a moment, his tail, which has been still since he entered the room, began moving very slightly, "It is…." Woojin said carefully, "not unpleasant."
"High praise," Jophiel said, which earned himself a look from Woojin that would have made most Demons take several large steps backward, but Jophiel appeared entirely unbothered.
"It's very cold," Woojin said.
"Yes," you said, “have more."
And Woojin had more, and he was so serious about it that it made you want to laugh.
Jophiel and Woojin had a few more spoonfuls of ice cream, before handing it back to you to enjoy. Once you were done with it, you set the empty container on the side table and leaned back against the headboard of the enormous bed.
"Jophiel," you said.
"Yes," Jophiel replied.
"The books you brought me" you said, “did you pick them?"
"Of course I picked them," he said, feeling a little bit offended by your question, “do you think I would just grab anything?"
Woojin, who was standing up to excuse himself, was stopped by your question, "What do you read, Woojin?" you asked Woojin.
Woojin stood there as he answered, "War histories, accounts of how specific battles were decided and what the deciding factors were."
"Boring," you scrunched your face.
“Necessary,” Woojin stated.
"You read about battles that already happened," you continued, "to prepare for battles that haven't happened yet or even might not happen at all."
"Yes," Woojin said, as if this was obvious.
"Doesn't it get repetitive?" you asked, "battles happen for the same reasons every time, don't they? Someone wants something someone else has."
"The reasons are often the same," Woojin replied, "the outcomes rarely are. The difference is always in the details. Every choice we make before the battle is important and to understand a war, you do not only study who won. You must also study who lost and what led them there, what they misjudged, and what they thought they could afford to lose."
"That," you said slowly, "is actually not a boring answer."
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Outside your door, in the corridor, Jungkook has been standing there for forty minutes.
He did not plan to stand there for this long. He planned to just walk past your room, go to the training grounds, or to deal with matters Woojin had flagged to him that morning that still needed his attention after returning to the North Citadel.
Jungkook planned to be productive and present in all the ways that a prince of the Jeon citadel was supposed to be doing. But instead he was standing in the corridor outside your room listening to you laugh and share an ice cream with his subordinate and an angel.
Woojin was slacking off when there were more pressing matters to handle and Jungkook was going to address that later. And Jophiel has been getting too close to you lately, something Jungkook found rather distasteful.
He pressed the back of his head against the stone wall and stared at the ceiling.
He heard your laugh again and something in Jungkook's jaw tightened so hard it was practically audible.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Jophiel eventually came out when he sensed Jungkook’s emotions. He took one look at Jungkook and couldn’t help the amusement he felt when he saw his old friend.
"Don't," Jungkook said.
"I haven't said anything," Jophiel said.
"You were about to, your face is doing that thing again," Jungkook stated.
"My face is doing nothing," Jophiel said with a smile across his face, “my face is entirely neutral."
"Your face has never been neutral in your entire existence," Jungkook replied, “you were built without the ability to have a neutral face, it is one of your most consistent failures."
Jophiel thought about what Jungkook said, "That is…. possibly, true. Huh, I can’t argue with that one," he agreed.
They stood in the corridor outside of your room. Jophiel could sense the energy Jungkook was radiating into the space between them, but Jophiel was not particularly bothered by it, which was infuriating to Jungkook.
Other creatures would have run in fear.
"Woojin is still in there," Jungkook said.
"Yes," Jophiel agreed, “she asked him to stay to talk about books about war. He seemed pleased about her curiosity."
Jungkook's jaw clenched.
Jophiel noticed Jungkook’s jealousy and tilted his head in amusement, "You asked me to come here and help her. I am helping her. The goal is for her to be less isolated and more able to function in her new life. I have been doing exactly that. You are standing in the corridor in what I can only describe as a state of personal suffering because she is laughing with someone who is not you.”
"Jophiel," Jungkook warned, "hands off. She is not something you get to.."
"She is my friend," Jophiel said, cutting Jungkook off before he could finish what he was about to say, “she is a being I have come to care about, and I will not stop visiting her or helping her understand what she is and what she can become, that is not going to change."
Jungkook looked at him with anger.
"And you," Jophiel continued, pointing his finger at the demon prince, "instead of standing in this corridor doing whatever you're currently doing. You should consider whether there is a more useful way to spend your energy."
"I don't need your guidance on what I should do," Jungkook said, defending himself.
"You haven't approached her," Jophiel said, "in the two weeks since you told her what happened," Jophiel continued, and he raised his hand to start counting all Jungkook’s faults on his fingers, which Jungkook found deeply and personally offensive.
"One,” Jophiel said as he raised his index finger, “you have not once attempted to sit beside her without needing a reason.”
“Two,” Jophiel said with now two of his fingers in the air, “you have not apologised in a way that gave her space to respond to you.”
“Three-”
“If you raise another finger, I will cut it off,” Jungkook said, interrupting Jophiel.
Jophiel lowered his hand and continued with what he was about to say, “Okay, three, you have not tried to understand what ____ actually needs.”
“Four, you have not once gotten down on your knees and beg for forgiveness, which, I will tell you honestly, would go a longer way than you believe."
Jungkook opened his mouth but nothing came out.
"And five you have also," Jophiel sighed before continuing, "been under the impression, for reasons I cannot fully understand, that what _____ wants most right now is for Seokjin to be dead. And while she does want that, it is not the most important thing. It is not even close to the most important thing to her. And you thinking finding your brother and killing him is part of taking care of her is one of the most significant misreadings of humans I have witnessed in several hundreds years, especially one coming from a Demon who spent hundreds of years with humans."
"Shut your mouth," Jungkook growled.
"Am I wrong?" Jophiel asked.
Jungkook said nothing to that.
"She matters to you," Jophiel said quietly, “I know that. But you cannot stand outside a door for two weeks and expect that to be enough. She is not going to come to you. You are going to have to go to her."
Jungkook still did not say anything to Jophiel and just stared at the door.
"Start with ‘please’," Jophiel added, “and ‘sorry’, humans love good manners."
Then Jophiel walked away down the corridor and left Jungkook standing there.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
At night when he was back in his chambers, all Jungkook could think of was you.
This was absurd.
Jungkook was aware that it was absurd that he was just standing outside of your door. He knew what was on the other side of the door. You were in there, probably reading one of the books Jophiel brought, or sitting near the window looking at the red sky.
It was absurd that after all the things Jungkook has done in his life, the one thing that he was now unable to do was knock on a door.
This was, objectively, one of the most embarrassing things that has ever happened to him and no creature would ever know about it because he would sooner tear down the entire citadel than admit it out loud.
Jungkook clicked his tongue at himself, frustrated at the absurdity of his own behaviour.
It is a very peculiar behaviour indeed.
He has been standing outside your door, on and off, for two weeks. He has stood there long enough to learn the pattern of your footsteps across the room, long enough to know which side of the bed you slept.
Jophiel said to start with please and sorry but Jungkook spent two weeks not doing that and even now, after knowing he should be doing that, he is still not doing it.
Jungkook didn’t understand what he was so unsure of.
Jungkook just didn’t know if he would say the wrong thing, which he has already proven himself capable of, and make it worse. He also didn’t know what to do if you told him to leave.
Jungkook was afraid of losing something he did not even have.
He put his hand over his eyes, this was genuinely the most undignified he has ever felt.
He has mastered the seven traits, survived centuries of containment in a room, watched armies fall, and he did all of it without once losing composure. Yet Jungkook just somehow could not knock on a door.
All because on the other side of the door was you.
Fuck this, Jungkook thought to himself.
Jungkook is going to knock on the door, and he is going to say please and sorry, and he is going to sit there and listen to you.
Because Jophiel was right, which is something Jungkook will not ever tell him.
But Jophiel was right, you needed Jungkook to show up.
He pushed himself off the bed, and started walking towards your room.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
It was what passed for night in Kratos, which meant the red sky turned a little darker than it’s state in the “morning”.
You were reading, Jophiel left hours ago and Woojin had to eventually excuse himself, especially after Jophiel told him that Jungkook is rather pissed at the both of them.
The novel in your hands was from earth. You didn’t know why Jophiel picked this one titled, “Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus” but you agreed with the content you’ve read so far. Although the book wasn’t about fantasy, you couldn’t help but wonder how surprised all fantasy genre lovers would be when they realise that everything they’ve read and written are all real.
Then you heard a knock on your door.
You already knew who it was. You could sense him through the door, but you just kept on reading, because Jungkook doesn’t usually come in and visit you. He probably knocked by mistake.
Then the knock came again, but you also heard Jungkook, in a voice so gentle, "May I please come in?"
You stopped reading.
You couldn’t just ignore his please. So you sighed, closed the book in your hands, and set it on the bed beside you, "Okay," you finally said.
The door opened, and Jungkook entered. He crossed to the couch across from the bed and sat down on it, and then he was quiet, looking at you sitting straight on your bed looking back at him.
You waited for him to say something, anything.
But Jungkook was not saying anything, he was quiet for long enough that you sighed and finally said, "If you don't have anything to say, just leave."
"Don't," Jungkook said quietly, "don't ask me to leave."
He looked down at his thighs, putting his hand over his forehead, covering his eyes so you couldn't see the expression he was making, "Please don't ask me to leave," Jungkook said.
You were taken aback, you didn’t know what was happening or what was about to happen. You didn’t know exactly what to do or say, so you stayed quiet.
"I came because I missed you," Jungkook continued.
You sat up straighter and stared at him across the room, at the way he was sitting with his hand still covering his eyes, like looking at you while saying it was more than he could manage, "I had to see you," Jungkook continued, "I missed you.”
“Just.. just don’t ask me to leave,” Jungkook said, almost stuttering.
You did not know what to say, not at all.
Because if Jungkook came in angrily, if he came in with the same composure he put up in the courtyard when you yelled at him, or if he came in with the same cold logic he uses for everything, you could have matched his energy.
But this.. he looked so.. sad.
Jophiel said something to you in passing, the day before, “He's trying to figure himself out.”
You stood up from the bed, crossed the room slowly, and when you reached him you stopped, standing directly in front of where Jungkook was sitting with his hand still over his forehead, still covering his eyes as if he was too afraid to look at you. He didn't move an inch when you stood up, he didn’t even look up at you when you stood in front of him.
And then you started crying.
"I've been so alone," you started, "I've been so lonely since I got here. I didn't know anyone, I didn't understand anything about what happened to me or what I am or how any of this works. And the only Demon I knew here, the only Demon I even had any frame of reference for, wasn't trying to help me through it."
Jungkook went completely still, but he finally looked up at you who was standing in front of him.
"I was angry at you," you continued, through the tears, "I am angry at you. But I also wanted you here. I wanted you to come in and say something, anything, even something that is completely wrong, even something that will make me furious, because being furious at you is better than having nobody. But you just stood outside the door."
“You had Jophiel,” he said, letting his guard down, “I thought he would be better at helping you instead of me.”
“I didn’t know Jophiel then,” you snapped, “I know him now. I trust him now. But I didn’t then, not like I knew you.”
You laughed through tears, “and you know what’s the worst part? That somehow, after everything, I still looked for you. I still listened to your footsteps like some pathetic thing hoping the Demon who hurt me would be the one to comfort me.”
“You are not pathetic,” Jungkook said.
“Well, I asked Jophiel to kill me,” you confessed, your voice breaking at your own confession.
The room went dead silent, Jungkook just stared at you and whatever was left of his composure disappeared, “What?” he asked in disbelief.
You pressed your hands against your eyes, "I asked Jophiel to kill me," you said, “that's how bad it got for me, that's how alone I felt… I felt so alone that I asked an Angel, whom I know will never do such a thing, to end my existence because the idea of spending whatever this is without anyone on my side felt worse than not existing."
Jungkook stood up and in one movement, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest.
You hated that his arms felt familiar.
You hated that some traitorous part of your body knew him as a safe place even though your mind knew him as the reason you needed safety in the first place.
"I'm sorry," Jungkook said.
He said it against the top of your head and then again, "I'm sorry.”
“I'm sorry," he repeated again as he held you and let you cry against his chest.
And Jungkook just kept saying it.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry.”
And eventually, you stopped shaking.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Jungkook's grip loosened slightly, just enough that he could pull back and look at you, and you looked up at him.
Jungkook looked down at you before finally opening up, "It is entirely my fault," he said, "you would not be here, you would not be any of this, if it were not for me."
"You might think that something like me would be brave enough to come to you and say that sooner," Jungkook continued, “but the past two weeks, I had nothing to say. I felt there was no excuse I could offer you. If I faced you, I wouldn't have known what words to use. So I chose to stand outside your door instead, thinking that being present would be the best thing I could do. Foolishly believing that with enough time it would settle on its own."
Jungkook clenched his jaw, "Isn't that dumb?"
You didn't say anything, letting him finish what he came here to say.
"I completely forgot that you react differently to everything," Jungkook continued, "I forgot to weigh in your feelings, what you would need, what would actually help. Until Jophiel made me understand that what I have been doing was wrong. I didn't just fail to help you. I drove you further into it in that courtyard, and then I left you wounded."
"I know it was all my fault. I'm sorry, I didn't know how to face you,” Jungkook did not know if he wanted to say what he was about to say next, but he realised the only creature he would ever want to know about him was.. you.
And Jungkook thought to himself that there was no better time to say it, "I was afraid. If I admitted all of this to you, that I’m just unable to understand you, I thought I would lose you. I understand now, that it is a very pathetic reason to leave someone alone for two weeks."
You thought it was not possible for a Demon to look.. to feel like this. But Jophiel did tell you that full mastery of the seven traits gave a Demon something that looked like awareness, the ability to feel everything, understand what they were feeling, and decide what to do with it.
Jungkook looked down at you, opened his mouth, then closed it again. He looked away from your face, and his eyes were staring at the stone wall behind you. It was as if he needed somewhere else to put his eyes while he gathered whatever he was about to say.
Jungkook has stood in front of armies and walked into rooms knowing every creature in it wanted him dead. Jungkook has never once, in thousands of years of existence, needed to look away from something because it was too much to face directly.
He looked back at you.
You still didn't know what to say, but something you never imagined would happen, happened.
Slowly, like each inch cost him something he couldn't name, Jungkook lowered himself to his knees.
"I am still a Demon," he said, from the floor, looking up at you, "I will not change overnight and suddenly understand how humans work. I have spent hundreds of years with humans and I have still not understood even close to everything about how your kind works. I understand only forty percent, at best."
"But I will try," Jungkook said, "I will be here now, if you would like me to be, and I'm sorry."
"I'm still angry," you replied, looking away from his gaze.
"I know," Jungkook nodded.
"I'm going to be angry for a while," you stated.
"That's fair," he said.
“I might want you here and hate you for being here at the same time,” you said again, making sure he understands that your progress won’t be linear.
“I can bear that,” Jungkook replied.
"And I'd rather have a company I know," you said finally, "than none."
Jungkook nodded once, he didn't say anything more and you didn't need him to.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You woke up with puffy eyes and a swollen face, you were exhausted from last night.
A lot happened mentally, and there were too many feelings involved. But, after what happened last night, you felt so much better.
Hearing Jungkook finally apologising and actually hearing you out and letting you hear himself out, felt like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders.
It was almost cruel yet hilarious, how the person you needed most was also one of the people tangled in the reason you were here in the first place. But Jungkook was not entirely to blame, you knew that much.
But maybe, for some weird reason, you needed someone close enough to aim your anger at. And with Seokjin gone, Jungkook became the nearest person you could blame for all of this.
You washed your face twice, which helped slightly with the puffy eyes, and then stood in the middle of the room trying to decide what to do with the day.
On earth, your days were always on some kind of a schedule. During weekdays, you woke up, you had to commute to work, and then you showed up for your students. And on weekends, you either go out to meet your friends or spend the day with your thoughts and hobbies at home.
Here, in Kratos, everything is new.
You didn’t know what there is to do or how the rules and laws are here. But what happened last night finally made you wonder if you could give this place a chance. So last night, before Jungkook left your room, you told him you would take a walk around the citadel in the morning.
Jungkook knocked sometime around morning time, which was really still hard to grasp since the sky never truly changed, on some days the red darkened by a little nearing the evenings, but other days the red colour of the sky just stayed the same. But the citadel operated on some kind of routines that you had begun to absorb without meaning to.
"I can walk with you, if you still want to see more of the citadel,” Jungkook offered.
You thought about it for a moment, "No," you replied, "I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" Jungkook questioned.
"Yes," you said.
You didn't want to be seen walking around in the citadel that already despised you with the prince at your side like you are some weak being that will always need his protection.
You saw him nod as he turned around to the door without arguing, which you appreciated more than you expected to.
“Enjoy your walk,” Jungkook said before closing the door behind him.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
The citadel was enormous in a way that kept surprising you even after two weeks of living within its walls. You have seen the citadel from the window but walking through it was different. The corridors were carved from the same dark stone as everything else, with its glowing red veins and the ceilings arched high.
You passed some Demon soldiers in the lower halls who looked at you and then looked away. You realised there were different responses that Demons give when they see you. Some of them observed you with their dark eyes, some of them talked about you openly, but none of them approached you.
You found your way outside through a set of doors that opened up onto a wide terrace. From there, you follow a path along the citadel’s outer wall, descending gradually until you reach an open ground overlooking the valley below you.
There was a stone bench near the edge of the overlook, so you sat down on it and looked out.
Below the citadel, you could finally see North Kratos in a way you have never been able to see from within its walls. The land was unfamiliar, dark rock formed with their edges lit by the same glow throughout the citadel.
There were towns below and smaller citadels. Between them, you could see figures, Demons, moving and going about whatever Demons do on an ordinary day.
It was bleak.
The sky above North Kratos is the same red colour ever since you arrived here, casting the land in a dull light that made the dark architecture seem even more unwelcoming to a human’s eyes. Even the ground around you felt wrong. The grass beneath your feet was black as if this place has drained the world of colour and left only shadow behind.
But, you thought it wasn’t that bad.
It wasn't earth. It wasn't the view from your studio window where you used to watch people walking their dogs and arguing on their phones. But it was something, it was a place with lives happening in it.
You sat there for a while with your hands in your lap, just looking at the valley.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
"You must be the former human!"
You turned around so fast you nearly slid off the stone bench.
The Demon woman standing a few feet behind you was, objectively, beautiful in the way that most demons in Kratos seemed to be, which you were still adjusting yourself to.
She was tall, with long dark hair and tanned skin. Her horns were smaller than Jungkook's and from yours too, curving neatly back from her temples. She was smiling at you, widely at that, like running into you was the best thing that has happened to her all day.
Your first instinct was suspicion.
In two weeks of existing in this citadel, not a single Demon smiled at you like that. Well, you weren’t out most of these past 2 weeks, but that one time you were outside at the courtyard, most of them looked at you with disgust.
You passed one or two who seemed to be neutral, like Woojin, who was not exactly warm but has stopped referring to you as ‘it’. But a Demon being openly pleased to see you? That was new, and new things in a place that has been consistently hostile to you is just suspicious.
"Yes," you answered, "that's me."
"I'm Ymir," she said as she sat onto the other end of the stone bench, "I've been wanting to meet you."
"Why?" you asked, you couldn’t help the expression of confusion across your face.
Ymir tilted her head slightly, as if what she was about to say was an obvious answer, "Because you were brave and you yelled at senior soldiers in the courtyard on your first day here and apparently told the prince he was a cunt."
You opened your mouth to say something, but realised you didn’t even know what to say to that.
"Everyone knows about it," Ymir continued, "news travels fast in the North, especially news about the former human Demon who walked into the courtyard and started screaming at senior soldiers."
"I wasn't screaming," you said, "I was just defending myself."
Ymir laughed, and you felt something in your shoulders ease slightly against your better judgment.
"Where are you from?" you asked curiously.
"The North, born and raised," she said, "though I come from the lower district and my family has served the Jeon for three generations."
"So you're loyal to the Jeon citadel," you said.
"I'm loyal to the North," Ymir corrected you, and the distinction seemed to matter to her that she was pointing it out.
"I see," you said, it was obvious you were taken aback by her response. Ymir claiming she was loyal to the North and not the Jeon reminded you that whoever is strong enough could just take the throne away from Jungkook's family. You couldn't help but wonder if Woojin felt this way too.
"You know, I have always been curious about humans," Ymir said, continuing the conversation, and she looked genuinely interested in the topic, "the below is not somewhere I have ever visited but I know of it, but earth.. the earth is somewhere I have always wanted to see."
"It's beautiful," you answered, "the colours are more vibrant there. The sky is blue on most days, but sometimes grey when it is about to rain, and even pink or orange at times. There are trees that change colour every season and oceans so large it makes you feel so small.”
You looked out at the valley below you again, before continuing, “And earth just feels.. alive. There would be cars passing by, people talking and laughing on the street. There’s just always something happening. Someone is late to work, someone is falling in love, someone is crying on a train after losing an important person in their life, and someone is complaining about the weather even when the weather is beautiful.”
You smiled faintly, you didn’t mean to talk this much, but Ymir showed genuine curiosity of your home, one you have been missing dearly.
Ymir watched your face as you explained life on earth to her, "What was your life like?" she asked.
It was a question no one in the citadel has asked you. Jophiel listened when you brought things up, but he’s always so cautious with you. Jungkook has never asked, probably because he was a part of it for a while. And Woojin would rather die than engage with something that personal.
"I was a teacher," you replied, "I taught kids how to read and write and how to be a decent human.”
Ymir looked delighted when she found out you were a teacher, and clasped her hands together, "You taught children!”
"Yes" you smiled at her reaction, you have soft spots for people who adore children like you do.
"What were they like?" Ymir asked.
"Very loud," you answered, "but they are honest in a way that most adults are afraid to be. They would tell you if they didn't like what you were wearing. They will believe anything you tell them, they will trust you completely, and their trust was…" you stopped, "it was the best thing I have ever been responsible for."
After a few seconds of silence, Ymir looked into your eyes with a gaze so genuine and said, "I'm sorry…. that you lost it."
You nodded, looking at Ymir who has been kind to you, and couldn’t help but ask her, "Why are you being kind to me? Because in my two weeks here, not one Demon in this citadel has voluntarily sat down next to me and asked me about my life."
"Truthfully, because I was curious," Ymir answered, "and because the way everyone in the citadel has been treating you bothers me. You didn't choose to come here, you didn't choose any of this. And the idea that you should be punished for not being born in the North when you didn't even choose to become a Demon in the first place seems wrong to me."
"Even though I'm not pure blood," you said.
"Yes," Ymir confirmed, "and I will tell you something else, being pure blood is not a measurement all Demons care about."
You looked at Ymir, trying to analyse her again. Ymir is still a demon in a place you do not entirely trust. The suspicion you have of her has not left you, but by the way she was acting towards you, you were beginning to think she might not be so cruel. She asked you about your life on earth, your students, and she even said sorry for something she wasn’t responsible for.
"What is North Kratos actually like?" you asked, "not the citadel, down there," you nodded towards the valley, "what happens in the towns?"
Ymir's face lit up again, "That is a much better question than most visitors ask," she said, "most of them only want to know about the citadel and the soldiers. The towns are where everything actually happens. The trades, disputes, and gossip. You can learn more about how the North actually runs from spending a day in the lower districts than from a month in the citadel halls."
"Have you spent time there?" you asked.
"I grew up there," she said, "I know every district. I know which ones have the best food, which ones to avoid after dark, and which ones will pretend you don't exist if you ask for help."
You looked at her for some time before looking back out at the valley.
"Would you want to?" Ymir asked, "see it, I mean. I could take you tomorrow, if you wanted. I could show you around the lower districts."
Every reasonable part of you said to be careful.
You have only been in Kratos for two weeks, you didn't know this Demon, you didn't know her loyalties or her reasons, and you were already carrying enough things on your shoulders and you shouldn’t add another thing you couldn't trust fully.
But you were also so so tired of your room.
You were tired of the same walls, looking at the same too-high of a ceiling, and the same red sky through the same window. You were tired of existing in a space that you have been put into rather than one you have chosen by yourself.
So against your better judgement, you agreed, "Okay," you said to Ymir.
Ymir smiled, "Good," she replied as she stood up to leave, "I'll find you in the morning."
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Jungkook came to your room that night the same way he did the night before, with a single knock.
You were already in bed, not sleeping, just laying there with one of the books Jophiel brought you laid open on your chest and your eyes fixed on the ceiling. You have been thinking about the valley, about Ymir, and how the towns below the citadel looked like.
"Come in," you said.
He entered and made his way to the couch across from your bed, "How was it?" he asked as he sat down on the couch, "your first day out."
You thought about it for a few seconds, "It was.. strange," you said, "but good strange. The valley is beautiful, I didn't expect that from Kratos."
"The North has always been considered the harshest, yet most beautiful territory,” Jungkook said proudly.
"I’ve never seen the other territories, but I can’t lie that the North is beautiful," you agreed.
You went silent for a few seconds, debating if you should tell him about Ymir. But then you felt like it was something worth mentioning, "I met someone today. A demon woman, she came when she saw me sitting alone, sat next to me, and talked to me as well."
Jungkook looked at you, "Who?"
"She said her name was Ymir," you said, "she asked about my life on earth and about my students too."
Something shifted in Jungkook's expression, he seemed suspicious of your new friend, "Ymir," he repeated.
"Do you know her?" you asked.
"She's in one of the lower battalions," he replied, "a weak one."
You rolled your eyes at him, "Jungkook, I don't care what battalion she's in."
"I'm just telling you what I know of her," he said.
"She was the first demon in this entire citadel to sit down next to me and kind enough to ask me something about my life," you defended, "the first one who wasn't you, Jophiel, or Woojin. So I genuinely don't care what battalion she's in."
Jungkook's jaw tightened slightly at the mention of his two friends, "Speaking of which," he said, "Woojin has been kind to you."
"Woojin brings me food every day, which you ordered him to do, and he occasionally tolerates my presence," you said, "that's not the same thing as being kind."
"And me? I’m not kind to you?" Jungkook asked, "I don't count?"
You looked at him across the room, "You're different."
"How?"
You didn't answer him, mostly because the answer was complicated in ways you weren't ready to say out loud, "She asked if she could show me around the lower districts tomorrow," you said instead, "I said yes."
Jungkook went very still, "Don't," he said.
You raised your eyebrows, "Don't what?"
"Don't go," Jungkook said, "not with her."
"Why not?" you asked.
"Because I don't know her well enough," he said, "and you don't know her at all."
"I knew you for longer before I trusted you," you said, "and look how that turned out."
Jungkook sighed before answering, "That's fair, but I'm asking you to trust me on this one."
"You're not asking me," you said, "you're telling me what to do."
"I'm asking you," he said again in a deeper voice, which meant Jungkook was dead serious, "just don't go tomorrow. Give it more time."
"She was kind to me," you said, sitting up straighter on your bed, "she was the first demon here who treated me like a normal being and I'm not going to refuse that because you have a ‘feeling’"
"It's not a feeling," Jungkook said, "it is an instinct, and my instinct in the North has kept me alive for longer than you believe."
You threw the blanket off your legs, stood up from the bed, and walked towards Jungkook, and following your actions, Jungkook stood up from the sofa as well.
You stopped close enough that you had to tilt your head slightly to look up at him and held his gaze without flinching.
"You never fucking listen to me," your voice cracked as you jabbed a finger toward his chest, stepping even closer to him, "you think you can just control everything I do, everything I am."
"Maybe if you just stop this for five seconds so I could get a word in," Jungkook said, defending himself.
Your finger pressed harder against his chest, and said angrily, “No Jungkook, you should listen to me. I have done enough listening!”
Jungkook caught your wrist, his fingers wrapped around it and the sudden contact silenced you from talking even more. For a second, the both of you just stared at each other.
“Get your hand off me,” you snarled, trying to yank your hand free, but Jungkook’s grip only tightened.
"No,” his voice was even lower, it was almost a growl. Jungkook pulled you forward, closing the last inch between the two of you until your chest is now finally brushing his, “You want to fight? Fine, let’s fight."
"Let go of me," you repeated, but your voice lost its edge, because his face was too close and the cold radiating off his skin was doing something to your thoughts that made you resent yourself deeply.
"Make me," Jungkook said, almost a whisper.
You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could, his other hand came up to your jaw, tilting your face up, and whatever you were about to say disappeared from your train of thoughts entirely.
His eyes were on yours, "You want to be so angry at me," he continued quietly, "go ahead."
♡━━━ Start of NSFW ━━━♡
Then Jungkook kissed you.
It wasn't gentle. His lips were demanding from the first second it touched yours, his grip on your wrist pulling you closer against him until there was no space left between your bodies.
And you kissed him back. You hated that you kissed him back immediately, without hesitation, without even a full second of resistance. Your free hand found the front of his shirt and grabbed it to pull him closer.
You bit his lower lip, which had Jungkook let out a groan. The kiss deepened and your legs hit the edge of the bed without either of you noticing you had moved from standing near the couch to now at the edge of your bed.
“You’re such an asshole,” you panted against his mouth.
He looked at you with a smirk across his face, “This is what you wanted right? You wanted me to shut you up.”
"You're so infuriating, I wanted you to listen," you said against his mouth before pulling him closer for another desperate kiss. Jungkook shoved you onto the bed and before you could straighten yourself on it, he put his weight on you, pinning you down.
You could feel his hard cock through his trousers, making your pussy clench. You could feel the wetness in your underwear despite the anger you felt towards him. And the way Jungkook was staring down at you, the way he was breathing with his chest rising and falling rapidly, it sent you wild and crazy.
You needed him.
With one hand, Jungkook grabbed at the collar of your shirt with force, causing the buttons to pop-out and your breasts exposed to the cold air, almost ripping your blouse in the process.
He bit down on your breast, sucking hard, using his teeth to play with your nipple until you arched your back in pleasure, and a cry escaped your mouth.
“You're enjoying this,” he whispered, as his lips brushed against your chest, “you love being treated like this.”
“Shut up,” you hissed at him, but your hands were already in his hair, pulling him closer, pushing his face harder into your breast.
He bit your nipple enough to let another loud moan out of you, and enough to have you start moving your hips against his.
Jungkook pulled himself back to yank his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Then his hands were on the waistband of your trousers as you lifted your hips to help him drag them down along with your panties.
"Look at you," Jungkook said with a deeper voice, staring at your legs spread wide in front of him, "so fucking wet. You have been waiting for my cock haven’t you?"
You couldn’t help and spread your legs wider as he said it, it was an invitation you couldn’t deny, "Don't flatter yourself," you said.
Jungkook smirked again and you wanted to slap it off his face, but then you saw him unbuckling his belt, and not long after, his big cock sprang free and you noticed its head already slick with pre-cum.
Jungkook stroked himself three times, with his eyes locked on yours, and you felt your pussy clench at the beautiful sight in front of you. Seeing Jungkook touching himself in front of you was a scene you never knew could be this hot.
Jungkook leaned over you, one hand bracing on the bed beside your head, the other guiding his cock to the entrance of your pussy. Jungkook didn't ask or warn you, he just thrusted his full length into your wet pussy in one single thrust. You let out a loud moan, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he filled you inch by inch.
You clenched around his cock, drawing a groan from Jungkook, “Fuck,” Jungkook moaned out, pressing his forehead against yours and his eyes looking into yours.
"You’re so fucking tight, like you were made for my fucking cock,” he moaned against your ear, making you cry out in pleasure.
“Fuck me," you demanded, "stop talking and fuck me with your big cock."
Jungkook let out a deep laugh as he pulled out almost all the way before slamming his cock back into your pussy. The impact shocked you, and the bed was now creaking loudly beneath the two of you. He was fucking you with a pace so fast and hard that each thrust drove you up the mattress. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper into you.
Jungkook lowered his mouth to your neck, biting and sucking, leaving hickeys all over it. While your nails were leaving marks on his back. He then fondled your breasts with one hand, before lowering his head to suck on your nipples, and leaving even more hickeys around your chest now.
"Harder, please, Jungkook," you panted.
Jungkook cut you off by slamming his mouth onto yours, his tongue thrusting in time with his cock. You sucked on his tongue, lightly bit it, and tasted his blood, which you found must be a turn on for Jungkook as he thrusted into you even harder than before, and each thrust drove you towards pleasure you never imagined.
His massive cock filled you so completely, every inch of him hitting your sensitive spots, which sent shockwaves of pleasure throughout your whole body. Your breasts were bouncing freely in front of Jungkook and the sight of you under him was one Jungkook wished to see for the rest of his life.
You felt your orgasm building up, "Don't stop," you begged, “don't you dare stop, Jungkook," you moaned out his name.
"Come for me," he growled, hearing his name out of your mouth, “come on my cock, now."
You tried to hold back, but your body betrayed you. It was all too much and you couldn’t hold your cum any longer. You cried out as your pussy clenched his cock and you whimpered his name into his ear as you come all over his cock.
But just like your first time with him, Jungkook was far from done.
The sheets were now all tangled up beneath you, damp with sweat of hours Jungkook spent fucking you until you've orgasmed four times. You were utterly wrecked by how good he fucked you that your pussy was still twitching after.
Jungkook didn’t give you a moment to recover, the sight of you snapped his control again. The heat radiating off your skin was just so intoxicating. Jungkook gripped your breasts as he moved his body closer to your face, squeezing your breasts softly, before pushing them together and sliding his hard cock between your breasts.
He thrusted forward, groaning as his cock pushed up between your breasts. Jungkook fucked your tits as you looked up at him with your tongue hanging out of your mouth, begging to lick the tip of his cock.
How needy you looked for his cock was what drove Jungkook to his orgasm. Jungkook removed his hard cock from between your tits, and said, “Open your mouth.”
He shoved his cock into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat in one ruthless thrust. You couldn’t help but gagged as he gripped your head with both of his hands and fucked your mouth the way he fucked your pussy.
Jungkook buried his cock deep inside your mouth as he shot his cum down your throat, forcing you to swallow each and every single one of it.
♡━━━ End of NSFW ━━━♡
You laid there, breathlessly, but you remembered something. You and Jungkook were fighting until the both of you decided to fuck each others brains out.
"I'm still going tomorrow," you said, slightly breathless.
Jungkook let out a quiet sigh, "I know," he said before continuing, “I’ll have someone follow you. Just listen to me for once. I just want you to be careful. That is all I want, because if something happened to you I would not recover from it."
"Fine," you said, finally backing down.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Jungkook got dressed quietly and slipped out of your room while you were asleep. He stood in the corridor for a moment longer than necessary before finally walking away.
Woojin was waiting at the bottom of the staircase, "The King is asking for you," Woojin said.
Jungkook just nodded at him before walking towards the King’s study.
The King's study sat at one of the highest points of the North tower, he was seated behind the wide stone desk when Jungkook entered, not looking up from the documents in his hands.
Jungkook stood across from him and waited for The King to address him.
After a few minutes, the King looked up and a small smirk formed across his face, "I see you had fun with the former human?" The King asked.
Jungkook said nothing to it.
But The King looked at his son before looking back down at the documents in his hands, "Don't worry," the King said, "I won't meddle into your private life."
The King then turned a page of the document in front of him, "What training have you been giving the soldiers?" The King asked.
"Extended drills across all battalions," Jungkook answered, "combat formations, endurance rotations, and I have been running the senior units through close-range fights twice daily."
The King nodded slowly, "And their condition?"
"Better than when I left," Jungkook replied.
"Good," The King said, setting down the document in his hand to look into the eyes of his most favored son, "I want you to prepare for war."
Group Bonding: Teaser
Ship: Best Friend!Taehyung x Reader x Enemy!Jungkook
Description: For as long as you were going to be Taehyung’s best friend, you’d have to put up with his other best friend, Jungkook, who absolutely despises you. Things only get more complicated after an incident that leads people to think you were doing some group bonding.
Warnings: Threesome, Eiffel Tower, MxM action, Dom/BratTamer!Tae, Switch!Kook, Oral (m&f receiving), Unproteced Sex, Creampie, Cum Play, Edging, Overstimulation, Humiliation/Degradation, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Praise, Pussy Slapping, Multiple Orgasms, Sadomasochism, literally this is 90% smut barely any plot, terrible attempts at humor
Estimated Wordcount: 14.6k
Release Date: May 15th, 2026
When you first met Taehyung, it was for your debate program in University. He was the only one who could match you with for wit, point for point, all within the allotted time and with brevity and well spoken analysis that you were in awe of. Surprisingly the two of you did not become rivals, the way high school you would've fantasized, having read way too much enemies to lovers fanfiction. No, instead you two actually became very good friends, sticking together even after graduation.
Taehyung was practically perfect in every way except with one minute (major) flaw: his other best friend.
You and Jeon Jungkook never really saw eye-to-eye; the moment you crossed paths with his childhood best friend, his original debate partner back in high school, you knew you had entered a battlefield.
It was a never ending fight between the two of you, always vying for Taehyung’s affections. Jungkook had always accused you of being a leech, just another sycophant who would reveal her true colors and nefarious intentions towards his best friend. Apparently they had known each other since childhood, and he had seen a million girls like you come and go. You, on the other hand, found Jungkook to be an entitled, pompous brat. He was so used to Taehyung being his and his alone that you had trouble picturing him sharing. That's probably why girls didn't last long around Taehyung.
It didn't help that Taehyung was constantly trying to facilitate things between the two of you, arranging for the three of you to hang out despite both parties' protest.
"If you guys only got to know each other better, I'm sure you'd get along!"
"Won't you guys try, for me? C'mon, I've always pictured what things would be like, the three of us."
"You're both my best friends. Why would anyone choose just one?"
More times than you can count you were invited to hang out with Taehyung and Jungkook would already be there. You tried to get along with the man, really, but it was nearly impossible. He was so possessive of Tae, constantly glaring at the two of you when Taehyung got affectionate with you. He always had some snide comment to make about it afterwards with you, like just seeing you two so close made him want to throw up. You were positively sure at this point that the younger was in love with his best friend, but it was a working theory.
Regardless, anything you showed up to with Taehyung, you'd have to be ok with Jungkook tagging along as well. Tonight's party was no exception, though you had lost track of the duo when you went to find a drink to drown your sorrows, and then had to do it again after finding an active sorrow to drink over.
You stumbled up the stairs with a heavy heart, downing most of your cup to replace one bitter taste in your mouth with another. To your surprise you see your best friend waiting in the hallway, no Jungkook in sight, looking just as drunk as you based on his slight swaying.
You walked up to him, grabbing onto his arm for support, needing the comfort of his body heat against yours right now.
"Hey, where've ya been? I've been looking for you for the past ten minutes I feel," you pouted, taking another sip of the fruity concoction in your cup.
"Hey, sorry! Kook broke the seal, and I didn't want to lose more than one person in a single night," Taehyung chuckled, pulling you in closer to his side. "How're you enjoying the party?"
You shrugged, unsure if you wanted to mention the sight downstairs you were currently running from. "It's fine, I guess."
"Yeah, I was thinking about the three of us ditching to go to that party on Brunswick, but none of us seem quite capable of driving just yet."
That put a damper on your hopes of Taehyung whisking you away from this place.
"I just remembered, I forgot to show you earlier today the new watch I got from Etsy!" Taehyung’s glazed eyes lit up. "Look, it's called a serpent's watch."
Taehyung flashed the fancy accessory on his wrist, the nontraditional wristband being coils of metal that wrapped down his wrist, the clock shaped closer to an oval or diamond than a circle. It really was shaped liked a serpent.
You absentmindedly nodded, fingers brushing over the way the watch wrapped around Taehyung’s wrist. Your mind kept drifting, however, and without sobriety to keep your mind where it should be, tears were soon falling from your eyes.
Tae noticed immediately.
"Hey hey, what's wrong?" Taehyung cupped your face in his hands, thumbs swiping under your eyes to wipe away at the tears. "It's a party, you should be happy-drunk, not sad-drunk."
Your lip trembled as you melted into Taehyung’s touch. "It's Yoongi," you explained, a pout on your lips as you said the name. "Just saw him downstairs with some girl. I just wasn't expecting it to hit so hard, y'know?"
"Aw, baby, I'm so sorry." Taehyung wasn't the biggest fan of your ex, secretly (not so secretly) elated when the two of you broke up. You didn't share the same sentiments, very clearly heartbroken when Yoongi dumped you to have sex with other girls. Go figure. "It's natural to be upset."
"I just—" You sucked in a breath. "I want to be over it already, y'know? I'm so sick of being pathetic and still crying about it."
"It was only two months ago. I don't blame you."
"You should. You should be sick of me at this point, crying to you about this. God knows Jungkook is." You blinked away the tears, slowly coming back down to Earth as you grounded yourself further against Taehyung. "I'm sick of me."
"I could never be sick of you, trust me. Yoongi doesn't know what he's missing out on. Any sane man would be on his knees for you if you so much as asked."
That earned a laugh out of you, effectively brightening your spirit. You sniffled, resting your forehead against Taehyung’s shoulder, sighing as you composed yourself. "Thanks, Tae. I appreciate it. God, why can't more guys be like you? There's too many assholes like Yoongi and Jungkook around."
Taehyung chuckled at that. "Hey, Kook’s not that bad."
"He is to me."
"You guys just need to work on getting closer, that's all. Find some shared interest or hobby or something. Anything you might like to do together."
You rolled your eyes a bit. "I don't think there's anything like that that doesn't involve violence."
"He likes you more than you think. He just doesn't realize it yet," Taehyung assured.
You heard a knock from inside the bathroom, Jungkook’s voice calling out. "Taehyung?"
"Speak of the devil," Taehyung grinned. He turned toward the door. "What is it?"
"Can you come in here real quick?"
Both you and Taehyung exchanged puzzled glances.
"Are you guys about to get up to some gay shit?" You whispered quietly. "I mean, it's hot, I guess. Am I supposed to keep watch?"
"Dunno yet. Let me see what he needs," Taehyung said, not even bothering to deny the homosexual allegations as he stepped inside the bathroom. Jungkook was turned away from Taehyung, looking down and fidgeting with something. "Everything ok man?"
"Yes— I mean no— I mean... shit." Jungkook turned around, letting Taehyung see his situation. Unfortunately for him, the zipper of his pants had gotten stuck onto his boxers and was refusing to budge. "It's stuck," Jungkook stated the obvious. "I've been trying to get it loose for like, five minutes now."
"Whoo boy, let's see what we're dealing with." Jungkook wasn't used to having Taehyung’s hands so close to his genitalia, but he supposed it was a testimony to how close they were.
Jungkook leaned against the sink, ears tinged pink with embarrassment as Taehyung yanked at the zipper with reasonable force.
"Hey, watch it man! I don't need you zipping up my balls, too," Jungkook freaked.
"Relax, it's not— Jesus Christ, this thing really isn't budging," Taehyung hissed, hands starting to become sweaty with his efforts.
Jungkook’s eyes widened. He buried his face in his hands, feeling how hot his cheeks were already getting "Fuck. Fuck, man, what am I gonna do? I can't go out there with my fly like this!"
"I'd be more worried about the fact you spent, like, 500 bucks on these pants." If Taehyung used too much force on this he was at risk of breaking it beyond repair, and he really couldn't afford repairs for designer the way Jungkook could.
"Dude, I literally want to die right now." Jungkook prayed everybody would be drunker than he was, at least enough where he could make a speedy exit without anyone noticing his problem.
"Wait!" Taehyung head shot up, as though a brilliant idea came to him. "I know someone who's great with zippers!"
Jungkook’s thick brows furrowed, and all he could think about was lightning somehow shooting into the house and striking him down mercifully. "What? Wait—"
"Y/N! Get in here, we need your help!" Taehyung swung open the bathroom door, dragging you inside without preamble or Jungkook’s approval.
You grumbled, eyes narrowed with confusion. "Do I need to aim for you guys or...?"
"No! Kook’s got a bit of a..." Taehyung’s eyes flicked down towards his friend's crotch. "...situation."
Your eyebrows jumped this time. "He has a boner?"
"No!" Now it was Jungkook’s turn to interject. He felt like he could die of embarrassment then and there, having to humiliate himself in front of you of all people. "My zipper is stuck."
"Aw, guess that Louis Vuitton label doesn't guarantee quality after all, does it?" You jutted your lip out in a fake pout, taking your opportunity to jab at him. You were still suffering from the sting of seeing your ex, and Jungkook was the best target you could ask for tonight. This was just too perfect.
"Hey, be nice," Taehyung scolded. "Will you help?"
"Maybe..." You tapped your cup against your chin, pondering. "If he begs."
"What?!" Jungkook was shocked by your sheer audacity.
You shrugged, fighting (and failing) to keep the corner of your mouth from quirking up into a smirk. "If you want me to help, you have to say please. It's only polite."
"Oh my god, you're such a bitch—"
"That's not very nice."
"Nice? I can—"
"Guys, stop!" Taehyung interrupted the both of your squabbling, not wanting to be cramped in a bathroom with the two of you shouting in his ear. "Just say please, Kook."
Jungkook’s eyes practically bulged out of his sockets when he heard Taehyung taking your side. You stuck your tongue out at him like a child, triumphant.
He gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw as he muttered the words. "Will you please help me with my zipper? Please?"
You looked so cheeky and smug, putting your cup down on the sink. Jungkook suddenly had the urge to bite you. "Well, since you sound so pathetic."
You reached for the zipper, and Jungkook hissed to resist the urge of slapping your hands away out of annoyance. "I'm gonna get you back for this, I swear..."
"That's not how you say thank you to a favor, Kookie," you teased, your fingers twiddling with the zipper as you tried to yank it up.
"We both know you aren't doing this as a favor." Fuck, you were so close to him. He could smell both the perfume you wore and the alcohol you drank. Now he had to worry about the friction your jerky little tugs were causing.
"Aw, look at you guys getting along," Taehyung smiled, reaching up to pat your head. "I told ya, you just needed to bond a little."
"We are not bonding— ow!" You tried to turn your head to face him, but something caught in your hair. You tried to move again, only realizing that Taehyung fancy watch was now tangled against you.
"Sorry!" Taehyung apologized, trying to move his hand back but tugging your head along with it. "Oh, sorry again!"
"Stop moving!" You reached one hand back to reach for his wrist, trying to pull a few strands away to get loose.
"Can you get lower? It's hard for me to untangle myself at this angle."
"Fuck!" The hand still on Jungkook’s zipper yanked on it in frustration, the tug doing nothing to free it.
"My hand's getting tired up here, it'll be quicker!" Taehyung whined petulantly.
You rolled your eyes and reluctantly sank onto your knees, the cold tile biting against your skin. You were now staring up at Jungkook, who found the view a lot hotter than he cared to admit.
But he did say he was going to get back at you.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Look at you. Can't believe you're on your knees in a bathroom for me."
You scowled. "It's not for you."
"Right. You're on a dirty bathroom floor for me and Taehyung." Jungkook couldn't help but snicker at your glare.
You reached up for his zipper with both hands, tugging it back down in another attempt, your other hand gripping onto fabric to pull it out. "You really shouldn't piss off the one with a zipper to your balls."
"That's if you can do your job correctly."
"Oh, you can fuck right off— Oh fuck, Tae!" Your head jerked back again slightly, and your eyes scrunched shut in slight pain.
"Sorry!" Taehyung apologized again, patting your head with the unadorned hand. "It's almost out, just a little longer."
"Fuck!" You gripped onto Jungkook’s pants tighter, pulling him closer to you as you jerked the zipper more, feeling some leeway.
Jungkook gripped onto the sink counter, trying not to fall against you or get hard. The sound of your little whine made the latter nearly impossible. It was difficult too with the sight of you frustrated and on your knees between the two of them, though, tiny hands scrambling with his zipper, and his mind was going to places they really shouldn't.
Your hand was moving the zipper up and down, desperately trying to get it loose, the tiny bit of fabric bunched beneath slowly giving way. You fisted at the fabric next to it, trying to pull it in the opposite direction so it would give.
"Fuck, I think I'm close," you muttered quietly to yourself, not even realizing how you sounded.
Fuck. Fuck Jungkook needed to get his zipper fixed now because any second now he was going to get obviously hard, and there'd be absolutely no way of hiding it from you or Taehyung.
"I-I think I might—"
"Shut up, I'm almost there!" Of course you'd be fucking stubborn when you put your mind to something.
"Me too!" His best friend innocently commented, eyes glued on his watch. Taehyung seemed oblivious to Jungkook’s panic, just as focused as you when it came to the task at hand.
You tugged one more time, the slide finally becoming easier and the zipper making its way successfully to the very bottom, no fabric stuck. "Finally!"
Taehyung managed to free his watch with your hair still intact, though it was a mess from the tangles and pulling from prior. "Yes!" He rolled his wrist with satisfaction, his other, unadorned hand now combing through your mess of hair in attempt to smoothe it. "See, that wasn't too bad."
Jungkook felt entirely too suffocated, and for the first time in his life he was desperately wanting a woman off her knees. "For you," he huffed, feeling hotter by the minute.
It was just then that the bathroom door, which you neglected to lock behind you, swung open.
The three of you must've been a sight: your hands up near Jungkook’s crotch while you were on your knees, Jungkook’s pants unzipped, your hair a tangled mess and makeup slightly smudged from crying. Jungkook and Taehyung were also incriminating, both sweating a little from their frustration, breathing heavy from their intense focus on very different missions.
Taehyung looked like a deer in headlights as he turned back toward the people in the doorway, the appearance of the situation seemingly dawning on him.
"Um... I know this is super cliché but... this isn't what it looks like."
