guys who put their knee between your legs while you make out with them so you can have something to edge on while his tongue is down your throat go straight to heaven
𓄲 "I like it," she says as she her hand drop back to rest against her leg. When you don't immediately respond enthusiastically she turns to you with a frown. "What?" she murmurs, "Why are you looking at me like that?"
전정국 x f!reader ˖ ࣪ ꉂ🗯˙ ‹— cw dilf!jungkook single dad jungkook nanny!reader 1980s au slowburn fluff angst (eventual) explicit content age gap (jungkook is 30, reader is 20) oc!cassian/oc!rayne (jk's children)
⧽ word count ⋮ 9.7k
average reading time ⋮ 55 minutes
── [ ✉️ ] Oh so like, this one actually hit me right in the heart to write. When I told you ladies that the upcoming chapter were going to be very Rayne focused I was more so hinting at this specific one. Each moment is precious to me and one of the scenes here have been rooted in my brain since late February. May this cure your longing for girlhood and daddy issues. I'll be thoroughly disappointed if no one gets at least a little emotional... Feedback in the comments/reblogs and asks are much appreciated <3
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chapter 19 — "Dancing Queen"
Rays of orange and pink caress the naked tree branches just outside — the setting sun spilling through the curtains that had been left pulled back to let the last light in. A glowing halo wraps around her head as Rayne shifts on the edge of the bed, her back turned to the window and the beautiful sky.
It was no later than four-thirty pm but as winter break would commence the following Monday there was little for the children to do in terms of school work. Thus you had managed to pull the elder aside for some much needed alone time — for today was the big day — the one you had spent the last few preparing for.
After her birthday party last weekend, Rayne had reluctantly agreed to attend the dance with her father. Though you had only caught a glimpse of their conversation upstairs last Saturday, you knew that it was all Jungkook's doing. The pair had actually spent some time practicing together, with you and Cassian watching subtly from the kitchen as they did.
Friday afternoon was now coming to a close and the seven pm mark crept closer for each passing minute. Rayne's shadow engulfs you where you sit perched on the floor, making it easier to peer up at her through the blinding rays. She wears a solemn expression, her eyes set on the purple dress hanging on the handle of her closet.
"Is this really necessary?"
Her voice is a begrudging drawl of lazy tongue that fills the silence along with the faint shuffle as you stifle through your duffel bag. Choosing to respond with only a brief, "Mhm", you go on to pull out all of the necessities you had brought along: hot rollers, an assortment of brushes and a palette of bold eyeshadows.
And perhaps you were being a little selfish. But growing up an only child you had always begged your parents for a younger sister. Someone to share clothes and bracelets with, to gossip about boys and to laugh late into the night with — to care for her in all the ways you thought a big sister should.
Suppose a small part of you was taking advantage of the brief opportunity that had presented itself within Rayne.
You go about placing all the items in order on the floor, nudging a brush to line up straight with the others before glancing up at the skeptical girl. "This is merely standard procedure, you know." Gesturing toward the lineup of beauty products, you send her a lopsided smile.
There's a moment of quietness where Rayne simply frowns. Her fingers pick idly at the seams of her jeans as her eyes flicker between the eyeshadow and the hot rollers. "I don't know…" she murmurs, her tone uncharacteristically soft, "I don't—", shrugging dismissively, she avoids your gaze, "I don't do all that stuff." She nods pointedly toward the shimmer you had just fished out of your bag, her nose scrunching.
You pause, the round plastic box clutched tightly in your hand as you pull the flesh of your cheek between your teeth. Chewing on the raw and tender skin, you let your attention fall to the items you had just hauled out onto the floor. There was nothing extravagant about them, no high-end brands — in fact most of it had been purchased at the drug store and the hot rollers were second hand.
Brows pinching together, you study the array of brushes. They all got the job done and the longer the silence stretched between you the more obvious it became that the question of quality wasn't the issue here.
"You mean to tell me you don't dress up or anything?" Tilting your head to the side, you regard her closely.
Rayne clears her throat as she shifts her weight on the bed, shoving her hands under her thighs. "No," she mutters under her breath, sending you a small glance through the corner of her eye before scoffing, "What? Am I supposed to?" The inquiry comes out defensive as her gaze narrows into something guarded.
Gnawing softly at your cheek, hesitating at the tone she'd used. It wasn't a requirement per se. Rayne was only eight after all but you still vividly remember sneaking into your mom's vanity at that age — rummaging through her makeup, smearing bold lipstick onto your lips and slapping all kinds of powder onto your face.
"Well…" you start, forehead creasing slightly as you stare out at nothing in particular, "No." Shaking your head softly, you then tilt it back to peer up at her, squinting slightly against the afternoon sun, "I thought it would be a fun thing for us to do together, you know, girl to girl."
Her eyes widen at that, only for a moment before sharpening with suspicion again as her fingers curl around the fabric of her jeans.
"I know that your dad does your hair from time to time," you add after a short pause, "Though your brother tells me that he doesn't do a very good job for the most part."
Rayne actually makes a small sound that could have almost been mistaken for a laugh — the corner of her lip twitching into something just shy of an actual smile. "No," she agrees quietly. "He makes the braids uneven," a small roll of her eye follows, "And it always falls apart by lunch."
The giggle that bubbles from your chest is carefree, as warm as the setting sun outside and you wished she would find it in herself to share it with you. "See?" you muse, tapping the hot rollers in front of you with a grin, "Boys have no idea what they're doing." Cocking her a brow, you add, "Us girls need to stick together you see."
She nods thoughtfully, hands still curled tight around her pants but her gaze has drifted to the eyeshadow palette next to your knee. Beneath the reluctance there was something akin to longing, barely there but still visible if you looked hard enough.
The longer you thought about it the more you came to realize that you and Rayne were not so different after all. Growing up in the absence of her mother with only a father and brother who knew as much about being a woman as a fish did walking on land.
Perhaps you weren't the only one wishing for a sister.
"What do you say we give this a go?" Gesturing toward the array of items scattered across the floor, you glance up at her with a hopeful smile.
A long moment of silence passes until Rayne finally nods, a slow tilt of her head that hints at no enthusiasm but fills you with excitement nonetheless.
Rayne's usually quiet bedroom had never been so lively before. The tidy space had become a mess by this point, brushes and empty plastic packaging leaving a trail to where the two of you sat on the floor. A record player — one you had found within the depths of her closet moments ago — was playing a CD of ABBA, the melody singing through the air.
"Feel the beat from the tambourine," you hum softly, fingers carding through a dark strand of her hair as you reach for another roller.
Having taken out the ponytail that she always wore, you realized just how long Rayne's hair actually was. The dark black was a stark contrast to her warm, honey tinted skin and it reached all the way to her elbows when allowed to flow freely. She had insisted that this wasn't needed and that she should be just fine leaving her hair untouched but you forced her down in front of the mirror.
Placing a bobby pin between your lips, you continue to hum along quietly to the song. "You can dance, you can jive," Twisting the lock of hair up around the warm plastic roller, you pluck the pin to fasten it in place. The rollers were thankfully not hot to the touch but you were still carefully to not hurt her.
Rayne, for her part, sat perfectly still. Her legs were crossed and she rests one hand on each knee as she gazes at her reflection in the mirror. Whenever you looked up your eyes met — you would send her a smile which she did not reciprocate, but she did not look uncomfortable either so you counted the win anyway.
"How much longer?" She asks when you fasten another roller. Her shoulders flexed as she adjusted herself — her straightened back serving as a ridicule to your hunched over one.
Pausing, you lean back to asses your work thus far. "Not long," you note, counting the rollers you had left under your breath, "Five more."
She heaved a sigh at that, but nodded slowly as she allowed you to continue. This was likely the most tedious part of it all but you trusted that the results would be worth it in the end.
As you stuck the bobby pin into the final roll you took a second to scan the product of your hard work. "Alright, you'll need to keep them in for a while," you tell her when stuffing the remaining pins back into their small box.
"They're uncomfortable," Rayne complains, her voice bordering on a whine that was most unlikely of her. Though she doesn't actually look displeased when you catch her face in the mirror. She reaches a small hand up to touch carefully at the roller holding her fringe, lips pursed in contemplation. "Are you sure this will work?" she asks.
You nod, perhaps a little too quickly, "Positive."
The record player jammed slightly between song shifts but a moment later a new tune filled the bedroom, one you did not recognize but still tried to hum along to. "Okay, let's move to the next step while we wait," you declare when reaching for the makeup palette beside you.
Rayne cocks a brow as she follows the movement with her eyes, their earlier reluctance now replaced with curiosity. "What's it for?" She points to the variety of colors, all divided into square sections.
"It's for your eyelids," you explain when scooting over to sit in front of her, crossing your legs as you get comfortable. Opening the clear lid, you show her the different options, ranging from bright blues to deep greens, bold yellows, oranges and much more. "Take your pick!"
She hesitates when the decision is so suddenly pushed into her lap, swallowing audibly when leaning forward for a closer look. Teeth closing around her bottom lip, Rayne studies the different colors closely, some had clearly been used more than others, you were a woman of habit after all.
After a minute's of intense thinking she lifts one finger and points it toward the soft lilac one. "That one," she says with a dismissive shrug, feigning nonchalance as she turns her attention to the floor.
The corner of your mouth threatens you with a smile and you quickly hide it by turning to grab a fluffy brush from your bag. "That one is perfect," you say when dipping the bristles into the color, swirling them around to gather the powder onto them.
Rayne follows the action closely through hooded eyes, pretending not to pay as close attention as she was, though the fact that she had stopped picking at her jeans were a tell tale sign. "Not too much," she murmurs, a last attempt at remarking the entire situation.
"Not too much," you echo, dusting the brush by tapping it against the edge of the palette. Once that was done you straightened up as you held the brush between pinched fingers, "Okay, close your eyes."
After throwing you another skeptical look she does as she's told, her lashes fluttering slightly when she lets her eyes fall shut. In the distance, the music playing fades out as the track jumps to play another song — leaving the two of you in silence as you brush the brush to one of her eyes.
Your touch is careful so to not accidentally poke the corner of her eye with the bristles when you drag them over her closed lid. The warmth of her steady exhales fans across your chin when you lean forward to see better as you dab the lilac powder onto her.
The CD comes to life again but the new melody becomes background noise for all that exists in this moment is you and Rayne. She sits perfectly still and had it not been for the twitch of her brow when you move from one eye to the other one could have easily mistaken her for a statue. The muted purple goes on easily, covering the faint outlines of veins that lay across her lids.
"Keep them closed," you hum when pulling back to dip the brush back into the palette to retrieve more color. Swiveling the fine strands in the lilac once, you bring a steady hand back to apply the second layer — going over it twice made it stick better — something you had picked up during your late teens.
Rayne doesn't flinch when the soft bristles return to her lids and though the corner of her lip twitches, she says nothing as she allows you to continue.
Your heart clenches in your chest the setting sun no longer keeping you warm but rather the girl in front of you. "It's turning out beautiful" the acknowledgement is no louder than the song playing from her desk but given your proximity she definitely heard it.
"It better be," Rayne huffs, even then there was amusement in her voice, the kind that makes you smile without meaning to. And perhaps it was a little selfish for you to linger even the brush no longer held any color and the layer had been spread evenly by your skilled hands — but you wished to linger in the moment.
You wondered if she'd ever had this done to her before. The simple gesture of applying soft purple to her eyelids and having someone run their fingers through her long hair. Judging by her initial reluctance you decide that she hasn't. It makes you sad, a lot sadder than you thought it would.
"Okay," finally sitting back, you tap the brush against the edge of the palette before closing it completely, "You can open them now."
Rayne does just that, lashes fluttering against her cheeks when she blinks, letting her eyes adjust to the sudden invasion of light. Scooting to the side, you allow her room to behold herself in the full body mirror in front of her which she does after some hesitation.
Her palms are braced on her knees when she tilts forward, just enough to catch sight of the purple that now coats her lids. She studies the result intently, tracking her own reflection the same way you remember doing by your mother's vanity all those years ago. Then she slowly lifts one hand, the tip of her index finger lightly touching the corner of her eye.
For a second you're worried that she's going to react negatively. Perhaps she would reject the entire idea again, demand you wash it off and refuse to attend the dance all together. But Rayne simply nods once, a careful tilt of her head that betrays nothing but her quiet approval.
"I like it," she says as she her hand drop back to rest against her leg. When you don't immediately respond enthusiastically she turns to you with a frown. "What?" she murmurs, "Why are you looking at me like that?"
You shrug, "Like what?" Despite your attempt at indifference you could not fight off the grin that curved into your cheeks. It was impossible not to be enamored with her in this moment for she looked so unlike the Rayne you thought you knew.
The crease between her brow deepens and her gaze narrows on you, "Like… I don't know—" she scoffs, "All weird."
Your lips stretched wider at that as you hum, "I just think you look pretty."
She turns her head away when the words register but you still caught the flush that crept its way to her face as she clears her throat. "You're ridiculous," she says, nudging one of the rollers in her hair absently to distract herself from the conversation taking place.
Part of you wants to argue that you were being perfectly serious, the other however, is simply content watching her with the same cheesy grin as she tried to play the compliment off.
The rest of the late afternoon is spent in similar fashion. The disc you had stuffed into the CD player came to an end and the tracks looped back to the beginning as it started over. Neither of you commented on it, and Rayne actually started humming along to a few of the familiar songs — though you pretended not to notice as you smiled to yourself.
You were now in the midst of painting her nails in shimmering purple, one tiny hand resting in your own bigger one as you swipe the brush over her nail bed. The sharp smell of acetone prickled at your nose as it clung to the air between you, but it did nothing to deter your precision as you worked.
Outside the sun had completely set and your only source of light was the lamp, usually placed on her desk, that now stood beside you both on the floor. Its warm yellow hues makes the purple appear almost brownish though you knew you had read the bottle correctly.
Rayne sits quietly, her posture never once faltering as she keeps herself ramrod straight. You had given up the pretense of that since long, favoring comfort as you hunched over her hand. She didn't speak, you didn't either — it wasn't awkward nor tense as it so often would be whenever the two of you were alone, and you even dared hope that things might actually take a turn for the better from this point forward.
You had just finished applying an even layer of purple to her ring finger when a sudden voice cut through Dancing Queen's second run on the CD player. "Are you almost finished? We need to leave soon—" The door is cracked open enough for Jungkook's frame to squeeze through, his gaze falling on the scene in front of him as his brows raise on his forehead.
Though he barely gets to finish his sentence before you're on your feet. "Out!" you shrill, already rushing over, nail polish forgotten about as your hands shove at his chest.
The force you use is enough to make him stumble backward a step and Jungkook frowns as he redirects his attention to you rather than his daughter — who had turned her head to glance at you both over her shoulder.
"You're not allowed in here right now," you say as you usher him back over the threshold he'd dare to cross. His confusion visibly mounts with each passing moment but you ignore it as you shield Rayne from his line of sight dramatically.
Jungkook exhales a sharp breath, "I— What?" His dark eyes find yours, immediately trapping you in place and you feel your heart stutter in your chest when you take in his attire. His hair was neatly combed and styled, as it usually was, but the black tuxedo he wears catches you off guard. Sure you were quite accustomed to Jungkook dressing adequately, the button ups and the dress pants… But this was different.
Your palms are still braced on his chest, the slightly erratic thumping of what could only be his own heart, beating against your right one. He's yet to utter a single word since you so blatantly pushed him out of his daughter's room and you realize that he was waiting patiently for an explanation.
"You can't be here," pulling back a fraction, you peer at him with determination, "This is a girl thing — besides, it'll ruin the effect if you see her before I'm done."
Jungkook cocks a sharp brow, hands twitching by his sides like he was fighting the urge to reach out. "A girl thing?" he repeats in a low drawl, gaze flickering over your shoulder to which you quickly follow up by stepping to the side and blocking him again.
"Yes," you tilt your chin, fingers flattening out the crease your previous roughing up had caused to his tux, "Boys won't understand."
The disbelief on his face grows at that but you allow him no room to speak as you usher him out into the hallway. "Go!" Your command seems to break through the haze and Jungkook blinks once as his attention snaps back to you. His lips part, perhaps to inquire further on the matter though he ultimately seems to decide against it.
He nods, throwing a glance toward the watch around his wrist before exhaling through his nose. "Thirty minutes," he grunts, then he turns on his heel as he heads down the hall, presumably to wait downstairs now that he'd been banished from his daughter's bedroom.
Once he's out of sight you turn back to Rayne with a sigh, letting the door fall shut behind you. "What did I tell you?" Walking over and plopping back on the floor in front of her, you pick up the nail polish as you silently ask for her hand. "Boys don't know the first thing about stuff like this," you muse when dipping the brush into the polish.
Rayne, who'd been watching the interaction silently, said nothing. But you thought you could see the edges of her mouth twitching slightly.
An hour and a half had passed since the two of you first sat down to get started — but you could now finally say that you were finished. Rayne stands in front of the full body mirror, the purple dress falling around her small frame rather elegantly. The sparkly midsection glimmers under the warm glow of the lamp — which had been moved back to its home on her desk.
Her hair, free from the hot rollers at last, now flows in gorgeous waves down her back as you run your fingers through the dark locks carefully. "What do you think?" you ask when parting her hair and moving it over both of her shoulders, letting it spill down her chest where it curled in place neatly.
Rayne remains quiet for a moment. The purple shadow you had placed on her lids did its job in highlighting her dark brown eyes and she blinks slowly as she regards her reflection in the glass. Her cheeks are dusted in warm pink — an addition you had added which made it hard to tell if she was actually blushing or not.
Her fingers find a wavy strand which she curls around the digit slowly. "Pretty," she murmurs in a voice so quiet it barely sounded like her at all. Though the CD player had been cut off when she went to change and you heard the soft admission clearly in the silence of her bedroom.
If you had been able to pry your gaze away from her, you're sure you would've caught the beaming smile on your lips in the mirror. Pretty wasn't enough to even begin to cover it. Rayne was always beautiful — there had never been any doubt about that — but tonight she looks out of this world. You can't help but feel a small swell of pride in your chest at the accomplishment.
"You are." Hands coming to rest on her shoulders, you both continue to regard the finish product of your lengthy session together a moment longer. Both her brother and father were probably waiting rather impatiently at this point, Cassian had been particularly downcast when he'd learned that he wasn't allowed to enter his sister's room. But you were in no rush.
"Oh," you suddenly perk up, "I almost forgot." Letting go of her, you quickly head over to crouch by your discarded bag on the floor. It takes some rummaging, you weren't exactly organized, but your fingers eventually closed around a familiar tube.
Holding it up for her to see, you grin triumphantly. "The finishing touch," you hum when walking back to Rayne who was watching you with a frown. The cheap brand name had since long been smudged, intelligible by this point but the lipstick itself still did its job.
You twist it open, spinning the bottom a few times to get the product out before showing her the soft pink. "Alright." Leaning down slightly, you reach out with your unoccupied hand to gently cup her jaw. "This will only take a second," you assure her, even though the young girl made no attempts at protesting.
Her lips part slightly as you carefully apply the cosmetic on top of them, spreading the color in an even layer — smudging away any excess with the help of your thumb. "Go like this," you say, smacking your own lips together when returning the cap onto the tube and sealing it once more.
Rayne follows your lead, blending the pink slightly in the process. Her gaze flickers between herself in the mirror before returning to you. She doesn't comment on the shade but she also doesn't wipe it off again, which was a success you think.
"Lipstick fades pretty quickly," you say, "So I think it's best that you bring this one with you." Nodding toward the small purse you had allowed her to borrow for tonight, you then place the tube in her hand, closing her fist around with softly.
She tenses at that, brows pinching together as she sends you a conflicted look. "Really?" Rayne asks, the tender disbelief in her voice makes your chest clench and you quickly nod.
"Sure!" you smile, giving her shoulder a tiny squeeze, "If you like it you can keep it, I have plenty more at home." That was a lie. You only had this and a bold red which you reserved for special occasions that rarely came. But the flicker of hope within her dark eyes as they turned to the lipstick in her hand was more than enough for you to willingly make the sacrifice.
Rayne hums, thumb tracing the bottom of the tube reverently. "Thank you," she says, and your breath nearly caught in your throat. It was the first time you'd heard her utter those words in a way that actually sounded sincere. The expression of gratitude takes you by surprise, though she doesn't seem to notice as she continues to study her freshly painted lips in the mirror.
"Of course," you exhale when managing to get a half-hearted grip on yourself again. One glance at the clock on her desk though, makes you realize that time was quickly running out and you spring into action once more. "I'll go downstairs and get your dad and brother, don't come down until I tell you to, okay?"
She gives you a questioning look but obeys with a soft nod, slowly heading over to grab the purse waiting for her on the bed.
You find both Jungkook and Cassian waiting in the living room. The younger was restlessly skipping around while his father leaned against the fireplace with his hands buried in his pockets. They both glanced up at your arrival, heads snapping in your direction like they had been counting down the seconds themselves.
"Nanny!" Cassian exclaims as he scurries over, fingers wrapping around the sleeve of your shirt tightly, "Is she done? Is she done?" When you nod he makes a squealing noise, waving his father over as he tries to contain his excitement.
Jungkook pushes himself off the mantle, joining you a moment later. If he was nervous about the evening then he did not show it — his face resembling a detached mask of indifference, even as you guide them back into the hallway. "Let's wait for her by the stairs," you say, fighting to keep the smirk from your lips.
It takes a while to get Cassian to settle down, the boy looked ready to leap upstairs and you held onto both of his shoulders firmly so to not ruin the surprise. When he finally calms enough to at least stay rooted to the spot you turn your attention to the upper floor.
"Okay, you can come down!" Your voice bounces off the pale walls and is shortly followed by faint shuffling above before silence returns. Jungkook stands beside you, his posture just as rigid as that of his daughter, his nonchalance betrayed only by the way he moved to absently fiddle the black silk around his neck.
Another moment passes — the seconds stretching for what felt like an eternity — until Rayne finally appears at the top of the stairs.
The air inside the Jeon estate shifted in an instant, the anticipation that had been building finally reaching its climax as both her brother and father turn their heads in her direction.
But you're not looking at her. No, your gaze is fixed on Jungkook — who's fingers had gone slack around the tie he'd been adjusting, the action seemingly forgotten as he takes in the sight of his daughter on top of the staircase.
Mesmerized. That was the best way to describe the look in his eyes as they tracked Rayne's careful descent down the steps. The ever present crease between his brows let up, giving way to something much softer — younger. His Adam's apple bobs with his next swallow, lips parted in a silent exhale that looks like its been punched from his lungs.
Rayne avoids making eye contact with all of you, keeping her head bowed as her fingers clutch the banister — the purple shimmer on her nails sparkling under the light of the chandelier.
"Wow," Cassian sounds awestruck, "She looks like a real princess, daddy!" He tugs on the sleeve of his father's tux but Jungkook pays the small boy no mind — he has yet to look away from his daughter.
Finally he gives a barely noticeable tilt of his chin. "Yes," he whispers hoarsely, "She does." He regards her almost longingly, as though he was seeing something for the first time. And when Rayne reaches the bottom step, he's there, one large hand outstretched, his palm open for her taking.
She hesitates, glancing at Jungkook's hand like it was a foreign object before she finally lets go of the banister as her much tinier one is placed in his hold. His fingers close around her own and he guides her off the last step, much like a gentleman.
Her younger brother can no longer hold himself back as he frees himself from your grasp. His arms wrap around Rayne with surprising force, catching both his sister and father of guard, though he is none the wiser as he lets his cheek press against hers.
"My sister is a princess!" He says proudly, the words muffled against her hair.
Rayne finally unfreezes from the sudden embrace and she lifts the hand currently clutching your purse to give her brother an awkward pat on the back.
Jungkook has yet to let go of her, or tear his gaze from her for that matter. You didn't think he would anytime soon and your heart warmed at the thought. "Okay, okay," gently prying Cassian away from his sister, you haul him back against you, "They're going to be late of you don't let her go soon."
He pouts slightly but gives a solemn tilt of his head. "I wish we could go too," he then whines, craning his neck to peer up at you with hopeful eyes.
You simply shake your head, stroking his hair back, "We'll just have our own dance at home, how about that?" The proposal does seem to put his mind at ease and Cassian gives up on harassing his sister for the moment.
"Alright," Jungkook has cleared his throat, still looking slightly dazed as he jerks his chin in the direction of the front door. "Shoes and coat on," he instructs as he lets go of Rayne's hand. She complies without question, the frills of her dress swaying slightly as she heads over to the shoe rack.
Lingering by the stairs, you wrap your arms around Cassian as you watch them both pull on their shoes, freezing when you suddenly remember yourself. "Wait!" The blurted exclamation slices through the air, making three heads turn your way as the entire family sends you a confused look. But before any of them can ask you've released Cassian, already halfway up the steps to the second floor.
You move on autopilot, barreling through the door to Rayne's bedroom as you fall to your knees beside the duffel bag you had brought. God, you really had to start organizing your things, it took way longer than it should for you to find the cool surface of your camera. An older model that you had gotten for your eighteenth birthday after much pleading with your father — a treasured possession of yours.
With the heavy weight of it placed on your hands, you rush back downstairs, finding everyone exactly where you'd left them, all with puzzled expressions. Jungkook is the first to notice the camera you're clutching, brows furrowing as he opens his mouth to speak — only to be dismissed by the wave of your hand.
"Stand a little closer," you say when stepping forward, closing one eye as you bring the camera to the other.
The pair hesitates, the young girl sending her father a quick glance before turning her gaze toward the floor. It's not until Jungkook places a hand on her shoulder, gently pulling her to his side that a smile finds its way to your lips, "Perfect."
"Big smiles," you chirp, peering at them through the camera as you angle it to capture them clearly. They both frown at the same time, their expressions perfectly mirroring the other and you resist the giggle that bubbles in your chest. "Come on!" Your encouragement seems to have some effect as they both force two awkward smiles onto their lips.
You snap the photo quickly, not wanting to let the precious moment slip between your fingers. The camera flashes brightly and when it's over you tilt it to peer at the results. They look nothing short of perfect — textbook gorgeous yet there was something truly ethereal about them.
Next to you, Cassian as already jumping on his feet as he tries to catch a glimpse himself. "Let me see, let me see," he says impatiently.
Meanwhile Jungkook and Rayne have separated, the former clearing his throat as he reaches for their respective coats. They slip them on silently, avoiding each other's gazes as the sound of clothes rustling fills the hallway.
Once they're both fully dressed Cassian runs up to hug them both goodbye. "Have fun," you tell them when placing the camera down on the dresser. They nod in unison, in sync with seemingly every action. "Make sure he sleeps by eight," Jungkook says as he sends his son a pointed glance.
"I've got it," you hum, arms wrapping around the tiny boy a second time when he returns to stand with you.
His father appears satisfied with that as he unlocks the front door, letting Rayne step out first before joining her. It shuts behind them with a soft click, leaving the behind a silent house and excitement that slowly fades into something more serene.
"Nanny," Cassian says, twisting in your embrace as he peers at you through dark lashes, "Can we take a photo too?"
Jungkook came to the swift conclusion that he disliked the children's school just as much during the evening as he did in the day time — in fact as he and Rayne steps out of the car, he thinks this might be worse.
The ride here, though short, had been spent in silence for the most part. Jungkook had mulled over the dimming headlights that he would need to get fixed sooner rather than later. He'd been pushing the matter back on his agenda as he dreaded the awful and inevitable meeting with Mr. Williams, a man in his late fifties who had a thing for both Jungkook and his car it seemed.
If he had his way, Jungkook would probably ignore the problem for another couple of weeks as he drowned himself in work and holiday preparations. But with the cold and dark winter season the malfunctioning lights were becoming an apparent issue that he could no longer bring himself to dismiss.
Tomorrow, he tells himself as he shoves the keys into the pocket of his tux — the garment far too restricting for his liking, though he did not let it show. There were other matters on his mind right now, like the sound of conversation that floats around him, impossible to block out.
This dance was something he would avoid if he could help it. Only you had been insistent, Jungkook almost groans at the recollection of that night. He should've shot it down again, argued that Rayne would not want to go and spare himself the awkward two hours of interacting with parents whom he knew nothing about. But he found it impossible to deny you, for whatever infuriating reason.
Up ahead the entrance had been lit up. The doors were held open on hatches, a red carpet that felt more like a dare than an invitation rolled out on the ground. He scanned the area briefly, noting the array of fathers, all leading their daughters' by the hand as they headed inside. His throat goes dry at the thought of having to plower through mundane small talk with them.
A chilly breeze draws past, reminding him of the harsh December month and the coats they had left behind in the car. His attention is instinctively drawn to Rayne. She stands beside him, arms folded tightly across her chest as she, too, eyes the entrance with reluctance.
Her hair is picked up by the wind, a few strands gluing to her face, though she makes no attempt at pushing them away. Jungkook studies her silently, he could not remember the last time he saw her dressed in anything other than the plain sweaters and pants she had him purchase for her — if ever.
He did not care much for how his children chose to dress themselves, long as it was appropriate. Yet there was no denying that his daughter looked absolutely breathtaking tonight. He doesn't know what it is you've done, doesn't linger on the matter either. All he knows is that she was the prettiest girl he had ever laid his eyes on.
Rayne startles slightly when Jungkook loops his arm around hers, gaze flickering up to meet his in a way that makes his heart ache terribly in his chest. She glances toward the entrance and back at him, "We can still turn back…", she murmurs.
He finds himself frowning at that. Her hesitation dims the flicker of warmth just as quickly as it had come. It would be easy to nod, to take her home and leave it at that — but his tongue disagrees before his mind can catch up. "No," he says, tightening his grip on her arm, "I want to dance with my beautiful daughter."
She blinks up at him slowly, lips parting before pressing shut again. Though she doesn't respond, she still clings to him in a way she usually wouldn't as she lets him lead her inside. Jungkook decides then that this night would be worth the painful social interaction that waits beyond those doors and that he would endure it as long as it meant making her happy.
It's hot inside the school, suffocatingly so. Bodies crowd the hallway, purple lights leading them all the way until to a much more open area. Judging by the tables and chairs pushed against its four walls this had to be the cafeteria. Balloons in all shades lilac are stuck to the ceiling and the pillars that held it up. Lanterns in the same color occupy the tables, next to a few of them large bowls filled with what he presumes to be punch sits.
In the center of the room is a makeshift dance floor, already filled with fathers and their daughters. It was barely past seven yet music was already playing and a good dozen pairs had already taken to dancing. Above, a large chandelier hangs, its soft yellow glow contrasting the purple theme of the entire ordeal.
Next to him Rayne shifts awkwardly, her eyes swiping across the room quietly as she chews on her bottom lip. Jungkook tries to think of something to say that would soothe her nerves, perhaps his own as well, but before he gets the chance to, the bruising noise of microphone sparking echoes through the room — a slightly hoarse yet cheerful voice follows a second later.
"Hello everyone! We welcome you to Oakridge Preparatory's thirty-fifth annual Daddy Daughter dance!"
Jungkook glances over to the improvised stage across the room. A wooden structure that makes him question how they had even gotten it inside in the first place — perhaps it had been built on the spot. His gaze drifts to the old woman standing on top of it, immediately recognizing her as the principal — Mrs. Fig.
He'd met her briefly when enrolling Cassian, the encounter had been stale and unpleasant — she talked too much for his liking but right now he wishes she would go on a while longer so to prolong the inevitable.
Mrs. Fig adjusts the round glasses that sit on the bridge of her nose before continuing: "We've prepared music seeing as the band couldn't make it this year…" she trails off before clearing her throat, "There's punch as well, please help yourselves and remember to have fun!"
With that she disconnects the mic sending another jarring jolt of electricity through the room, cutting the speech far too short for Jungkook's liking. The music is turned up a moment later, a song he recognizes, Every Breath You Take he thinks it might be called.
Pairs of fathers and their daughters start filling out the dance floor, easily falling into step so naturally in the way Jungkook knows he will never be able to replicate. His hesitation lasts only a second, then he's moving forward, legs carrying him with determination he didn't even realize he had.
Rayne stumbles beside him before catching up, brows furrowed deeply as she glances up at him. "What are you doing?" she asks as she lets him lead her through the crowd of people.
Jungkook shrugs, "Dancing." He comes to a halt when he finds a spot he deems suitable, forcing his shoulders to relax as he guides her hands to his forearms. She allows it, albeit reluctantly, skeptical eyes swiveling around the room once more before finding their way back to him. "Just like we practiced," he says as he begins to move.
They had spent long nights in the living room, awkwardly stumbling over each other's feet and Jungkook mentally cursing himself for actually preparing for this evening. Their latest attempt yesterday had been pathetic, he hadn't said that of course, but he'd thought it. Right now? Everything seemed to click into place.
He didn't consider himself a good dancer — never had. Ten years ago he wouldn't even have entertained the idea of doing something like this. And yet, as he watches his daughter under the warm lights, yellows and purples mixing onto her face, the small furrow of concentration etched to her features, he cannot imagine himself to be anywhere else.
The tip of her shoe accidentally nudges his and Rayne glances up at him sheepishly. Jungkook simply shrugs, pulling her along as he twirls her in his arms. The purple dress you had gotten her sways around her legs, Cassian had been right in saying that she looks like a princess, he thinks.
The room around them fades until all he can see is her. His daughter. Dark brown hair falls unevenly down her shoulders, the soft pink that dusts her round cheeks and the way she bites her lip as she focuses on getting her steps right.
Rayne had always reminded him of her mother — the woman he'd spent years loving. And though Jungkook doesn't blame himself for what happened, he hates himself for the mistakes he's made with his daughter, he probably will for the rest of his life.
She had her mother's face but she was undoubtedly him in every other sense. Sometimes he found himself frightened by the stark similarities they shared. He did not know how to handle them, how to handle her. But he vows there and then to try his best, for Rayne.
The evening passes relatively calmly. Dancing was not as bad as he'd initially thought and after a few songs they found themselves by one of the tables serving fruit punch. Rayne stayed close to his side, and though she did not know it, her presence comforted him just as much as his probably did her.
There were a few others before them, two fathers chatting happily with one another, though Jungkook would rather sink through the ground than have to engage in their conversation. He's content to stand quietly beside his daughter, keeping their arms looped together despite the risk of them getting separated was slim.
Just as the others clear out and Jungkook reaches for the ladle in the punch, a voice he recognizes with dread pierces the comfortable silence he and Rayne shared.
"Mr Jeon!"
He doesn't have to turn to know who it is, he does anyway, just to be polite. Ms Song approaches their table with a smile too wide, too friendly, it doesn't feel genuine. You would never smile like that. Jungkook shakes the thought as quickly as it had come, fingers curling a little tighter around the cold metal handle.
"It's so nice to see you here," She says when tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The dress she wears feels far from appropriate for a setting like this, low cut and figure framing in a way none of the other teachers' were.
Jungkook gives a small tilt of his head and has half a mind to ask what she was doing here. Last he recalled she did not have Rayne in any subject. But Ms Song is already turning to his daughter, leaning down to come eye level with her, in turn making her chest spill out of her tight dress and Jungkook averts his gaze with a quiet scoff.
"You must be Cassian's big sister," she says as she extends a hand, "I'm his homeroom teacher."
Rayne eyes her outstretched hand warily but ends up taking it. Ms Song shakes it gently before letting go and straightening back up, seemingly unfazed by their lack of response. She turns back to Jungkook, and he feels awfully distracted by the vibrant color on her lips.
"I honestly didn't expect to see you tonight, but it's such a nice surprise." Her tone is light, a pitch too high, betraying her obvious interest in conversing with him.
Jungkook tries to think of an excuse to have them both leave before she gets the chance to bombard him with prying questions about his life, though the cup he holds in one hand and the ladle filled with punch keeps him rooted to the spot.
Ms Song is not oblivious to this, unfortunately, and she nods in the bowl's direction. "I heard the punch is supposed to be good," she says as she flashes him an expectant smile.
Pressing his lips into a firm line and biting down on his tongue, Jungkook fills the cup before handing it to Rayne who takes it with a small 'thanks'. Then he reaches for another, repeating the process, all the while Ms Song's invasive eyes continue to linger. He extends it toward her without a word, ignoring the way she leaves her fingers on top of his a moment longer than necessary when she takes it.
"Thank you," she hums as she brings the cup to her lips, letting them wrap around its rim and taking a sip. Her lashes flutter when she bats them at him and Jungkook wonders if it's given her a headache yet — one could hope.
She lowers the cup and it looks as though she's about to say something else when the sound of another man's voice suddenly interrupts her. "Ms Song!" He's weaving through the crowd, the hair on his head a mess. Jungkook doesn't recognize him but judging by his lack of a child, he thinks he must be another teacher.
"The music is doing that thing again, it keeps breaking up and Mr. Brown doesn't know how to fix it…" He trails off when he notices both Jungkook and Rayne, giving a polite nod before turning his attention back to the woman between them.
Ms Song heaves a sigh, the subtle roll of her eyes not going him unnoticed as she sends Jungkook an apologetic glance. "I'll be right there," she calls out, painted nails digging into the cup. "I hope to see you around tonight," her voice has an uncomfortable lilt to it and Jungkook responds only with a small hum.
The second she takes her leave he feels his shoulders slump, exhaustion washing over him as a result of the brief yet painful encounter. He silently decides to thank whatever mighty power above had caused the interruption and steered her away from him.
"She likes you."
Rayne's blunt remark pulls him from his thought and he turns to her with a frown. "She does?" He questions back, caught off guard by how observant she was being.
His daughter simply nods, still sipping on her fruit punch as her gaze travels across the room. "Girls do that when they like someone," she explains after another gulp, "They make excuses to talk about stuff with you, even when they don't actually have anything important to say."
He feels his forehead crease even further as he considers her response. Making excuses to talk to him? His mind immediately wanders to you and he tries to think of any instance in which you had done the same.
He remembers the awkward conversations you had steered him onto whenever you were alone, usually in the kitchen after the children had gone to bed. Jungkook never found them to be insignificant, he quite liked hearing you talk.
"You don't like her do you?" Rayne asks, she's watching him over the rim of her cup, distracting herself with small sips. It was unusual of her to ask questions like that — especially regarding a topic such as this.
Jungkook shakes his head, "No," he muses. He did not like Ms Song, perhaps ten years ago he would've, she seemed like the type he went for back then. But he is not the same man he was a decade ago, and for that he was thankful.
"Is it because you like nanny?"
His heart might as well have sank to the bottom of the ocean when her words registered. For the first time since the two of them left home, the silence that lingered felt anything but comfortable. He briefly consider just outright ignoring her, to pretend like he hadn't heard the uttered words in the first place — but he knows he cannot.
He turns to her, avoiding looking her in the eye as he takes the half finished cup of fruit punch from her hands. Rayne doesn't protest, wiping her lips with the back of her hand as she watches him.
Bringing the cup to his face, he peers down at the liquid that swirls inside — taunting him into delivering the answer waiting on his tongue. Jungkook inhales through his nose, the sweet scent of fruit filling his senses, it's almost too sweet.
"Yes."
It's all he says before bringing the cup to his lips as he takes a long sip. He prays that his daughter won't catch the tremble to his fingers, the white knuckled grip he holds on the innocent plastic cup — hard enough for it to crack.
But Rayne says nothing, letting her gaze return to the crowded room as she watches her peers dance with their fathers. Despite the music — now playing smoothly again thanks to Ms Song — it's quiet where the two of them stand.
Jungkook busies himself with the fruit punch for as long as he can, which isn't long at all seeing as he was downing the sickeningly sweet drink in big gulps. Once the cup is empty he's left staring at it like it held all the answers to the mysteries of the universe.
Beside him, Rayne shifts her weight from one foot to the other and when he dares to drag his attention over to her, he finds his daughter opening the purse that rests by her side, held together by a thin strap. She reaches a hand inside, pulling it back a moment later, this time cradling a small, black tube.
He studies her as Rayne twists the cap off, spinning its bottom a few times. It's only when the soft pink appears that Jungkook realizes it was a lipstick she held. Her lips part and she applies it carefully onto them — once she's done she smacks them together before repeating her earlier ministrations and sealing the tube again.
"Where did you get that?" He asks, his voice coming out hoarser than he had intended for it to. Jungkook bought everything she asked for — which wasn't a lot. He would've known of a lipstick in her possession.
Rayne hums, placing the cosmetic back into the purse before sealing it tight. "Nanny gave it to me," she pauses before adding, "She said I could keep it."
Jungkook nods slowly, his eyes lingering on the purse a second longer as he recalls the way you had shoved him out of his daughter's bedroom earlier that afternoon — the frantic look on your face as you kept him from stealing as much as a glance at his own child.
He turns back to the fruit punch, filling the cup once more despite the drink tasting horrendous. Though he had spent a good half an hour trying to figure out why he wasn't allowed in her bedroom during the process of her getting ready, he'd later come to the conclusion that he would forever remain clueless.
Must be some of that girl stuff you were talking about, he thinks to himself as he takes a small sip.
By nine pm the dance came to a close as tired children clung to their dads who carried them out of the building. Despite the event being a brief two hours — Jungkook already knows he would rather take a twelve hour day at the office. He does not think he's ever felt as drained as he did when he got into the drivers seat to pull out of the parking lot.
After their conversation by the fruit punch, Rayne had not mentioned you again, nor had she brought up the confession he had made without thinking his answer through even once. In fact she had asked to dance again — taking him by surprise but Jungkook had not denied her as he offered his hand.
Their second try out on the floor had gone even smoother. No more stiff shoulders or stepping on toes. Rayne had even smiled as he twirled her around, a shy, barely-there curl of her lips but Jungkook had caught it under the dim lights and he treasured it close to his heart.
The late Friday night left the streets nearly vacant and as he drove the car to a stop by a red light, he glanced at Rayne in the rear view mirror.
Her lipstick was smudged from an additional two cups of fruit punch, the waves in her hair diffused as a result of her hands running through the strands. She hadn't spoken a word since he'd turned on the engine and Jungkook understood why when he caught sight of her shut eyes. Head propped up against the window at an awkward angle, Rayne slept soundly in the backseat.
She would rarely — if ever — doze off during car rides. He thinks the night must've left her twice as exhausted as him.
The light ahead turns green pulling Jungkook's attention to the road. His fingers drum softly against the wheel and the hand he keeps on the clutch reaches up to shut the radio off.
Rayne had yet to wake by the time he pulled up in their driveway and he sits silently with her for a minute or two before forcing himself out into the cold. The December air is harsh and unforgiving as he quickly rounds the car to carefully pull her door open. Thankfully secured by her seat belt, Rayne's head simply lolls to her shoulder when she's robbed of her makeshift pillow.
Jungkook moves efficiently, leaning over her to unbuckle the leather that held her in place before draping both his and her coat over her bare shoulders. Then he lifts her from the seat slowly, trying his best not to jostle his sleeping daughter as he knocked the car door shut with his foot.
He can't remember the last time he'd carried Rayne in his arms. It had to have been years for she was not nearly as affectionate as her younger brother. The weight of her in his arms and the warmth of her body still makes his heart beat a little faster — the same way it had when he'd first gotten to hold her that day at the hospital eight years ago. He leans down to bury his nose in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her — his daughter.
When he rounds the front of the car he pauses, the headlights give a weak flicker before going dark again and Jungkook sighs. Tomorrow, he tells himself before heading for the front door.
── [ ✉️ ] So like, surprise Jungkook POV ahah... I feel like a lot of people were expecting OC and Cassian to tag along for the dance but I felt like that moment specifically needed to remain between Jungkook and Rayne alone, especially given what she asked later, cough... Anyway, please let me know what you thought, I would love love to hear it <3
In which you come to Seoul for a summer law internship already drowning in the pressure of qualifying as a solicitor, only for your carefully planned life to become ten times harder when you keep crossing paths with an annoyingly attractive stranger named Jungkook. You don’t know he’s South Korea’s most beloved star, and he doesn’t know why the only person unimpressed by him is suddenly the one he can’t stay away from.
Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Law student!reader
Genre: Forced proximity | Romance | Slice of life | Slow burn | Fluff | Enemies to lovers | Comedy
Warnings/content: Jungkook × Reader, Law Student Reader, Summer Internship, Study Abroad, Hidden Identity, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Celebrity Romance, Secret Relationship, Opposites Attract, Tension, Flirting, Late Night Talks, Protective Jungkook, Jealousy, Emotional Slow Burn, Kisses, Mutual Pining, Seoul Summer, Career Pressure, Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Drama, Happy Ending
Word Count: 4.3k
A/N: Here’s the final half of part two hope you enjoyyyy!!!
Against all logic you were now walking beside Nikolas through Seoul while he spoke passionately about how iced coffee was superior to hot coffee in every possible circumstance. Clearly he’s never had to rely on a steaming hot vanilla latte to get him through a human rights essay at 3am.
“Its efficient,” he said gesturing dramatically as you waited at a crossing. “Portable. Elegant. Cold. It asks nothing from you.”
“It asks for a straw,” you said.
“That’s not a hardship.”
“It waters itself down.”
He looked offended. “You’re describing weakness of character. Drink faster.”
You laughed. “That is your legal argument?”
“It is my life philosophy.”
“That explains why you were dying after running 30 seconds.”
He pressed a hand to his chest. “Again with the violence.”
“You brought it on yourself.”
“No,” he said solemnly. “You’re simply cruel in a beautiful city.”
You rolled your eyes but the smile was impossible to suppress now.
The restaurant he chose was tucked down a side street near the office district, small, warm, and crowded with office workers and students.
“See?” Nikolas said proudly as the hostess led you inside. “Affordable, charming, and if we get food poisoning at least it’s authentic.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It’s realistic.”
You slid into the booth opposite him. “Do you narrate everything like this?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “People listen.”
“That’s arrogance.”
“That’s charisma.”
The server approached and handed you the menu first.
“Ladies first.”
“That sounded rehearsed.”
“It was instinct.”
“It was absolutely rehearsed.”
He grinned. “A suspicious woman. Dangerous.”
You skimmed the menu then glanced up. “How are you flirting and irritating me at the same time?”
“Talent.”
“Men like you are why I study law.”
He laughed loudly enough that two people glanced over.
“No truly,” he said once he’d recovered. “You are my favourite person here already.”
“That says worrying things about your standards.”
You ordered a mix of dishes between you, rice bowls, dumplings, grilled chicken, cold noodles, and too many sides because Nikolas claimed “restraint is for tax season.”
Once food arrived conversation became easier.
He told you a bit about his personal life and how his mother still called every morning to ask if he was eating enough and that his father wanted him to become an engineer “like a respectable disappointment.”
You told him about London, the endless grey skies, surviving on caffeine during exam season and the humiliating emotional warfare of training contract applications.
“They ignore you?” he said scandalised.
“Repeatedly.”
“This is barbaric.”
“It’s graduate recruitment.”
“In Greece if someone rejects you at least they insult you directly.”
“That’s somehow kinder.”
“It’s closure.”
You laughed again and he pointed triumphantly.
“There. That laugh again. Good sound.”
“You’re weirdly dedicated.”
“I’m interested.”
You pretended not to hear that.
“So why law?” he asked.
You picked up a dumpling thinking about how to answer.
“Because I like structure. I like arguing when I’m right and solving things.”
“And when you are wrong?”
“I’ll let you know if it happens.”
He stared for a beat then burst out laughing.
“Terrifying,” he said. “You say it so sincerely.”
“What about you?”
He leaned back. “Honestly? My family fought over inheritance for 3 years. I was 16 and thought these people are insane.”
“Reasonable.”
“So I studied commercial law.”
“That origin story is unhinged.”
“It’s heritage.”
The two of you stayed longer than intended talking between bites and teasing each other over everything.
He mocked London weather. You mocked his inability to run. He claimed Greek men were romantic.
You said based on current evidence they were theatrical.
He placed a hand over his heart and whispered, “Wounded again.”
At one point he reached across the table to steal one of your dumplings.
You slapped his hand without thinking. He looked delighted.
“You hit me already,” he said. “This is serious.”
“You stole from me.”
“I was testing boundaries.”
“You found one.”
He smiled slowly. “Good.”
You looked away first.
By the time you left the restaurant the afternoon sun had softened and the city felt golden at the edges.
Nikolas walked you toward the station entrance.
“This was fun,” he said lightly, hands in his pockets.
“It was acceptable.”
“Liar.”
“It was moderately pleasant.”
“Better.”
He tilted his head. “Dinner tonight?”
You blinked. “Bold of you.”
“I am Greek.”
“That explains nothing.”
“It explains confidence.”
You smiled. “I can’t. Work thing.”
“The secret client?”
“The terrifying secret client.”
He nodded gravely. “Then tomorrow.”
“That sounds presumptuous.”
“That sounds optimistic.”
You stepped backward toward the station stairs. “Goodbye Nikolas.”
He called after you.
“Think of me fondly!”
“I won’t.”
“You already are!”
You shook your head the whole way down smiling like an idiot. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.
Halfway back to the hotel your phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
You frowned and opened it.
Miss Liang, you will meet the client at his private residence at 7:00 PM. A chauffeur will collect you from your hotel at 6:30 PM. Please be ready. Dress professionally.
You stopped dead in the street. Private residence? Chauffeur? Dress professionally? I got assigned to this person a few hours ago why the hell do I have to meet them already.
You looked down at your outfit in disgust, creased blouse, intern anxiety, and traces of soy sauce.
“Oh no.”
By the time you got back to the hotel the adrenaline of the afternoon had been replaced by the kind of exhaustion that lived behind your eyes.
Your feet ached, your brain was full, and in exactly 2 hours you were expected to be collected by a private chauffeur and taken to the home of a client mysterious enough to require NDAs and security clauses.
Normal internship behaviour, clearly.
You pushed open the hotel room door and stepped inside.
One of the beds had been transformed into Hikari territory—open suitcase, clothes draped over a chair, makeup scattered across the desk like a small controlled explosion.
Hikari was stretched diagonally across the bed in the hotel robe, one leg hanging off the side, sheet mask on, eating crisps directly from the bag with the serenity of someone who had contributed nothing to society all day.
The second she heard the door she sat upright like a meerkat sensing danger.
“Well?” she demanded.
You let your tote bag slide from your shoulder dramatically and drop onto the floor.
“It was fine and I already ate before you ask.”
Her eyes narrowed immediately through the slits of the sheet mask.
“Wait what, who with?”
You kicked off your shoes one by one, buying time. “A fellow intern.”
The room went silent. Then she slowly lowered the crisp bag into her lap.
“A fellow intern,” she repeated. “Interesting. Gender?”
You sighed. “Why is that your first question?”
“Because I know you. If it was a woman, you would’ve already said her name and what modules she studied.”
“That’s not true.”
“It’s deeply true.”
You crossed to your bed and sat down rubbing your temples. “It was just lunch.”
“With a man.”
You hesitated for half a second. That was enough.
Hikari ripped the sheet mask off her face so violently it nearly snapped.
“Oh my God.”
“No.”
“Oh my God.”
“It was literally lunch.”
She scrambled to kneel on the bed facing you clutching the crumpled sheet mask like evidence.
“You found a man in less than 24 hours.”
“I found food.”
“You found romance adjacent food.”
“I found grilled chicken and someone who talks too much.”
Her jaw dropped theatrically.
“So he’s funny.”
“He’s annoying.”
“That means funny with cheekbones.”
You pointed at her. “Do not rewrite history.”
She ignored you completely already entering investigative mode.
“Name.”
You made the mistake of answering honestly.
“Nikolas.”
The scream she let out was so sharp you were certain someone in the next room had dropped something.
“Nikolas?” she shrieked. “European? We’ve gone international immediately?”
“He’s Greek.”
She clutched her chest and fell backward onto the bed.
“No. No, because this is insane. Yesterday you were threatening to marry your coursework and today you’re collecting Mediterranean men.”
“I am collecting nothing.”
She sat back up instantly.
“How tall?”
“Why does that matter?”
“Your answer determines whether I die right here right now.”
“He was…tall enough.”
She gasped. “Tall enough? She’s blushing.”
“I am not blushing.”
“You are flushed with memory.”
“I walked here in humid weather.”
She crawled across the bed toward you dramatically.
“What does he do?”
“He’s an intern.”
“That is temporary. What will he become?”
“A lawyer hopefully.”
She slapped the duvet. “A future legal man?”
“I need you to lower your voice.”
“No! I need details.”
You groaned and lay back against the pillows while she continued circling like an investigative journalist.
“What happened at lunch? Did he compliment you? Did he touch your hand? Did he gaze?”
“He breathed and ate.”
“So mysterious. Continue.”
You covered your face with both hands. “He talked. A lot. He flirted. Constantly.”
She froze.
Then whispered, “Successful?”
“I said flirted. I didn’t say successfully.”
“But it affected you.”
“It did not.”
“You’re smiling right now.”
You dropped your hands immediately.
“I am not smiling. My face is resting.”
“Your face is glowing.”
“My face is tired.”
“Your face has hope.”
“My face wants silence.”
She cackled and threw herself beside you on the bed.
“Tell me everything from the beginning.”
So against your better judgement you did.
You told her about him chasing after you outside the office and arriving breathless because apparently your walking pace was too aggressive. You told her about lunch, how he’d spoken with his hands, how he’d mocked London weather, how he’d dramatically announced Greeks were more honest than British people because at least they rejected you to your face.
Hikari was in tears laughing.
“No because I like him already,” she said wiping under one eye. “He sounds unserious.”
“He is deeply unserious.”
“That’s exactly what you need.”
“I need stability.”
“You need banter.”
“I need paid employment.”
“You need a handsome distraction while waiting for paid employment.”
You rolled your eyes.
“He asked me to dinner.”
The room went still.
Then Hikari slowly turned her head toward you like a possessed doll.
“He what?”
You realised too late what you’d admitted.
“…It was casual.”
“CASUAL?” she yelled. “A Greek man invited you to dinner in Seoul and you’re calling it casual?”
“I said no.”
She stared at you in absolute horror.
“You said no?”
“I have work.”
She flung a pillow at your head with surprising force.
“You traitor to women everywhere!”
“I have a client meeting!”
“You could have had both!”
“I physically cannot be in two places.”
“You could have tried!”
You laughed despite yourself, dodging the second pillow.
Then you remembered. Your phone.
You grabbed it from your bag and showed her the message.
She set the phone down carefully like it was explosive.
“You are either about to begin an elite legal career…”
She climbed onto your bed and grabbed both your shoulders.
“…or walk directly into chapter 12 of a billionaire romance.”
“I hate the way your mind works.”
“I hate that mine is probably right.”
“It’s work.”
“It’s mansion work.”
“It could be a flat.”
“With a chauffeur?”
You opened your mouth.
Closed it again.
She narrowed her eyes. “Exactly.”
Then she jumped off the bed and pointed toward the bathroom like a general sending troops into battle.
“Go shower.”
“I was going to.”
“No. Not like that. Go shower properly.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means exfoliate. It means moisturise. It means if rich mysterious legal man has cameras we will not be caught looking ashy.”
“You’re insane.”
“I’m invested.”
You stood trying not to laugh.
“Hikari I’m going there to review evidence and discuss trespass incidents.”
“I’m going to throw you out the window.”
You grabbed clean clothes and headed for the bathroom while she shouted after you:
“What if the chauffeur is handsome?”
You turned back once.
“You need help.”
She smiled sweetly.
“And yet I’m the happiest one here.”
A few hours had passed and somehow the room had managed to get smaller. Not physically obviously.
But the walls felt closer. The air felt heavier. Every tick of the clock sounded louder than it should have. The expensive hotel room that had looked calm and luxurious earlier now felt like a waiting room designed by sadists.
You had changed outfits three times.
The first was “too serious.”
The second was “too eager.”
The third according to Hikari was “giving tax fraud investigator.”
So now you were on outfit four, standing in front of the mirror in a blouse and tailored trousers, staring at yourself like you’d personally offended your reflection.
“I look nervous,” you muttered.
“You are nervous,” Hikari said from the bed lying on her stomach with her feet in the air while scrolling through her phone.
“That’s not helpful.”
“It’s observational.”
You tugged at your sleeve. “Do I look professional?”
“You look like a woman about to either negotiate a six-figure contract or throw up.”
You turned sharply. “Why would you say that?”
“Because honesty is my ministry.”
You groaned and sat on the edge of the bed pressing your palms to your knees.
“This is insane. Why am I being sent alone to some rich stranger’s house? Why send a private car? Why is there so much mystery? Why was there an NDA?”
Hikari slowly lowered her phone and looked at you.
“Because,” she said solemnly, “you are in your main character era.”
“I am in my stress-induced cardiac event era.”
She sat up crossed the room and grabbed your shoulders.
“Listen to me.”
You looked up.
“You are smart. You are capable. You are hot in a deeply intimidating way.”
“That one felt unnecessary.”
“It was necessary.” She shook you lightly.
“That does not help.”
“It helps statistically.”
You buried your face in your hands.
“What if the client hates me?”
“What if the client loves you?”
“What if the client is terrifying?”
“What if the client’s old?”
You looked up immediately. “That’s worse.”
Hikari gasped. “Ageist.”
“I’m practical.”
She sat beside you and linked her arm through yours.
“You are overthinking. It is an internship. They’re not going to hand you to a murderer.”
“You don’t know corporate culture.”
Before she could reply your phone buzzed in your lap.
Both of you froze. Then slowly looked down.
Unknown Number.
Your stomach dropped. You opened it.
Your chauffeur has arrived. Please come to the front entrance.
Hikari inhaled sharply. “Oh my God.”
“I hate how formal that sounds.”
She snatched the phone from your hand to reread it dramatically.
“Your chauffeur has arrived,” she repeated in a posh accent. “Babe, if you don’t turn your location on right now.”
You stood up so fast the bed shook. “Not helping.”
“I’m serious!” she laughed, following you to the door. “If you vanish into organised crime I need timestamps.”
“I’m going to work.”
“You’re going to a mystery mansion.”
You grabbed your bag.
“If I die delete my browser history.”
“Already planned.”
“You’re evil.”
“And prepared.”
The hotel lobby doors slid open. Parked directly outside was a sleek black Rolls-Royce, polished to the point it reflected the city lights like glass.
You stared at it.
“No,” you said quietly.
Hikari beside you let out a scream so sharp a concierge looked over.
“No way.”
“This can’t be for me.”
“It is absolutely for you,” she hissed, gripping your arm. “Oh my God. Rich mysterious legal client. You’re living in a Wattpad warning label.”
The rear passenger door opened. A sharply dressed older man stepped out in immaculate black tailoring, posture straight enough to cut through steel.
He gave a respectful bow.
“Miss Y/N?”
You nearly swallowed your tongue.
“Yes?”
“I am Mr Lee.” His voice was calm and smooth. “I will be driving you this evening.”
You blinked twice.
Hikari whispered from beside you, “I would faint.”
Mr Lee opened the rear door for you.
“The journey will take approximately forty minutes depending on traffic,” he continued politely. “If you would like any refreshments for the ride there is water, tea, coffee, and snacks available.”
You glanced inside and saw what looked less like a car and more like a private lounge.
“…No thank you,” you said quickly. “I’m fine.”
You were not fine.
Mr Lee smiled faintly. “Very good.”
You turned to Hikari. She was clutching her chest.
“If he kills you,” she whispered emotionally, “at least it’ll be glamorous.”
“Goodbye,” you said flatly.
She kissed the air beside your cheek. “Make me proud.”
You got into the car.
The leather seat practically hugged you. The door shut with a soft, expensive sound that somehow made things worse.
Mr Lee got in the front. And then you were moving.
The city passed in blurs of neon and glass while your thoughts spiralled at dangerous speeds.
A Rolls-Royce.
A chauffeur.
A private residence.
An NDA.
A high-profile client with security concerns.
You stared at your reflection in the tinted window.
What if they were some terrifying executive who expected perfection?
What if they were 47 and shouted a lot?
What if they hated trainees?
What if they wanted impossible tasks done overnight?
What if they made eye contact too intensely?
What if they were one of those rich men who called women “sweetheart” in meetings?
You physically shuddered.
Mr Lee’s voice came gently from the front.
“Are you comfortable, Miss Y/N?”
You sat bolt upright. “Yes. Sorry. Very comfortable.”
“Good.”
Then silence again. You clasped your hands together in your lap and tried to slow your breathing.
This was fine. You were fine. Everything was fine.
You were going to a stranger’s mansion in a foreign country at night under a signed confidentiality agreement.
Fine.
Eventually the city thinned.
The roads widened.
Streetlights became sparse.
Then the car turned through a quieter, wealthier area lined with towering walls and private gates.
You sat forward slowly.
“Oh no.”
Ahead of you stood a massive black gate, tall and sleek and intimidating enough to belong to either a billionaire or a villain.
Beyond it, partially visible through trees and shadows was a sprawling black mansion.
Your mouth fell open.
“That is not a house.”
Mr Lee pulled up to the gate and lowered his window.
He spoke briefly into an intercom in Korean.
A pause.
Then the gates began to open soundlessly.
You gripped the seat.
“This is insane.”
The Rolls-Royce glided forward.
The driveway curved through landscaped grounds so pristine they looked fake. Water features glimmered under soft lighting. Sculpted hedges stood like soldiers.
Then the main house came fully into view. It was enormous.
Modern. Sharp. Dark glass and black stone and clean brutal lines. Every light inside glowed warm gold against the blackness of the exterior.
It looked like the headquarters of someone who definitely had enemies.
You stared in horror.
“This is a mafia house.”
Mr Lee said nothing.
The car moved into an underground garage larger than some apartment blocks.
And then you saw them. Luxury cars lined up in perfect rows. A Mercedes. A Porsche. Two Range Rovers. A Ferrari. Fuck.
Something low and silver you couldn’t identify but knew cost more than your tuition.
You wanted to go home.
Mr Lee parked smoothly and stepped out. A second later your door opened. He offered his hand politely.
You took it on instinct and stepped out, trying not to look visibly alarmed.
“The lift is just ahead,” he said, gesturing toward sleek elevator doors set into the wall. “Please take it to the top floor. Your client is waiting there.”
Top floor.
Of course. Dramatic much.
You nodded. “Thank you.”
Mr Lee bowed his head once. “Best of luck this evening.”
That sounded sinister.
Inside the lift mirrored walls surrounded you from every angle.
You immediately started smoothing your clothes.
Straightening your blouse.
Checking your hair.
Adjusting your trousers.
Then adjusting them again.
The lift dinged.
The top floor was silent. And huge.
You stepped into an open plan living space so vast it felt like a luxury hotel had merged with an art gallery. Massive windows overlooked the city. Every piece of furniture was black, charcoal, or dark grey. Black marble counters. Black leather sofas. Black walls with hidden lighting.
Even the vases looked expensive and emotionally unavailable.
You walked forward slowly heels soft against polished floors.
“Hello?” you called cautiously.
No answer. You took another few steps, eyes scanning the room.
This place was absurd. Cold. Beautiful. Slightly terrifying.
You turned a corner taking in a second lounge area with sunken seating and—
A throat cleared behind you.
You froze.
Slowly—very slowly—you turned around.
And there he was.
Standing a few feet away like some kind of personal stress test sent to ruin your life.
Fresh from a shower by the look of him, dark hair still damp and pushed back carelessly from his face. Water clung to the sharp line of his collarbones and traced down the defined planes of his chest. The tattoos on his arm were fully on display now, winding from shoulder to wrist in intricate black ink that somehow made him look even more unfairly composed.
A white towel sat low on his hips.
Arms folded across his chest like greeting strangers half dressed was standard etiquette.
His lip ring caught the warm light when one side of his mouth twitched.
Those wide, dark eyes met yours instantly.
Recognised you instantly.
And then—worse—he smiled.
You spoke before your mind could catch up.
“...Shit.”
The word slipped out under your breath, quiet but very clear in the silence.
His eyebrows lifted. Then a slow grin spread across his face, amused enough to be offensive.
“Well,” he drawled, voice low and rough from disuse, “if it isn’t Miss Human Resources Complaint Form.”
You stared at him.
He looked even more entertained.
“Or should I call you Exhibit A?”
Your mouth opened. Closed.
He shifted his weight against the counter behind him, entirely too comfortable.
“Actually no,” he said thoughtfully eyes flicking over your rigid posture. “Tonight you’re giving small claims court with anger issues.”
You found your voice at last.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“No,” he said, glancing down at himself briefly. “This is usually how I dress at home.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
“I know.” His grin widened. “But making you more irritated felt right.”
You stood rooted to the spot, bag still clutched in one hand, pulse pounding in your ears.
Out of every person in Seoul.
Every possible client.
Every mysterious rich stranger hidden behind NDAs and chauffeurs and villain architecture—
𓄲 The ponytail no longer held all of her hair, with a strand coming undone as it framed her face. Jungkook reaches up, inked fingers catching the dark lock as he lets it run between them. "I must have been out of my mind back then," He says as he tucks the loose strand behind her ear, "Because I'm looking at her right now."
전정국 x f!reader ˖ ࣪ ꉂ🗯˙ ‹— cw dilf!jungkook single dad jungkook nanny!reader 1980s au slowburn fluff angst (eventual) explicit content age gap (jungkook is 30, reader is 20) oc!cassian/oc!rayne (jk's children)
⧽ word count ⋮ 6.8k
average reading time ⋮ 35 minutes
── [ ✉️ ] Writing fluff is something I struggle with a lot and though I wouldn't call this over the top, tooth rotting fluff, it was still challenging for me to capture the scenes in the light that I wanted to. I hope it will be an enjoyable read for you ladies nonetheless. Feedback in the comments/reblogs and asks are much appreciated <3
series masterlist | last chapter | next part
chapter 18 — "Birthday Girl"
"Nanny!" Cassian calls out from behind you, "Help me put this one up!" He scurries around one of the couches, nearly tripping over the garland he carries in his tiny hands. It was made out of colorful triangles, reds, blues, yellows and purples — each one printed with bold, white letters that spell out 'Happy Birthday'. You had gotten it at the store yesterday, among other props that were now scattered around the living room
Letting go of the balloon you had just finished tying, you turn to him with an arched brow. "Where do you want it?" You ask to which he points toward the fireplace. Following his line of sight, you note that the garland would indeed do good there. "Alright," You hum, already heading over to grab the roll of tape sitting on the coffee table, "Hand it over."
You and Cassian had spent the past hour decorating the entire living room to the best of your abilities. Between using up all your lung capacity to blow balloons — most of which Cassian had let fly across the room again with giddy laughter — you had been placing all kinds of party-themed accessories around the beige furniture.
It was important that the house looked as festive as possible, Cassian had said. And you were doing your best to live up to his expectations as you went about placing colorful streamers across the coffee table.
The party hat perched on top of his head perfectly matched the rainbow cone on your own, held together by an elastic string that looped under your chin. They were part of the young boy's elaborate plan to a successful birthday party and he had two more prepared for the others when they arrived home.
Jungkook had taken Rayne to see the children's grandparents around noon, giving you and her younger brother the early afternoon to make means of any necessary preparations. You had spent a good half an hour in front of the mirror in his bedroom, trying on different bow ties for him.
Cassian insisted on wearing such, even though you told him that he'd look just fine with the light blue button up you had chosen. But he'd been adamant in his choice of wardrobe and there was no changing his mind. "I'm going to be handsome, just like Daddy," He'd said with a beaming smile.
So there you stood, swapping navy blue for bright yellow, trying on a deep red and even black before finally coming to a unanimous decision on white. It contrasted his big brown eyes well, matching the set of teeth which he showed off with a shy grin.
"Do you think they will like it?" Cassian quietly wonders as he fiddles with the tie around his neck. He was sat on the kitchen counter, watching with a small pout as you prepared the cake that had been cooling in the fridge since last night.
"I reckon they will," You hum when reaching over to grab the purple candles on stand by. Sticking one of them into the cake, you add with a twitch of your lip, "I think you look dashing."
The tips of his ears turn a bright shade of pink and Cassian averts his gaze as his cheeks puff out. Though he doesn't give a verbal response, the flush creeping up his neck before blooming across his face tells you that the compliment meant a great deal to him.
Beyond that, a comfortable silence settles over the two of you. It wouldn't be long until Jungkook arrived back home with Rayne, ready for the celebration you and her brother had been setting up for the past two hours. In the meantime you occupy yourself with counting the candles you placed on the cake.
Eight of them, all surrounding the letters you carefully iced. You and Jungkook had made it together last night — well, you had made it while he supervised.
The Jeon house had been quiet, with both children asleep in their respective bedrooms, you had been whisking batter until late evening hours. After claiming that he knew little about baking, Jungkook took his spot by the kitchen island as he leaned against its counter — his gaze lingered on your frame a lot longer than it should.
"Do you bake often?" He asked, keeping his voice low as he studied you a little too closely for comfort.
You shrugged, teeth pulling on your bottom lip when you cracked an egg into the bowl, whisking it together with the sugar. "From time to time," You said when reaching for the soy milk that was substituting any dairy for Cassian, "It's more of a hobby I suppose."
Jungkook hummed his agreement at that and through the corner of your eye you caught his gaze, dark yet undeniably soft around its edges. His arms were folded across his chest, head tilted a degree to the side like whatever held his attention did so wholeheartedly.
It was impossible not to feel the weight of his eyes where they settled over you. "What?" You chuckled when the moment had grown so prolonged that you could no longer refrain from speaking on it. "Is there something on my face?" You asked, turning your head away as you reached a hand up to feel around for any abnormalities — though the course of action was more so used to shield the bashful expression you wore.
"No," Jungkook said, and wether he picked up on your flustered state or not as he stepped closer was hard to tell. Even so, he made no comment on it. His arms unfolded from their resting place across his torso, they hung limp by his sides when he came to a halt beside you. His gaze dropped to the batter you mixed and the corner of his lip pulled into something unreadable.
Then his attention had shifted to your face, to the awkward reality of his proximity that you tried in vain to hide. "Nothing at all." He mused, looking almost thoughtful where he stood. You watched as his fingers twitched against the outskirt of his thigh, curling into a loose fist before he brought his hand to your cheek.
You had wondered if he felt the heat seeping through your skin — proof of how little control you seemed to harbor over your own blood pressure whenever he was around.
"I just enjoy looking at you I suppose." He confessed quietly, brows furrowed as he regarded you.
The words sounded so simple coming from his lips — but you knew it had taken him much to say. There was tension in his jaw, like he prepared himself for you to reject the advances he made. It wasn't like you ever had before yet he seemed to fear that you suddenly would.
Though you'd been unable to conjure a proper response to his confession you had not dared slip away from the touch to your cheek, so you lingered in it as you exposed a shy smile to him.
The moment seemed to last an eternity and yet when it came to a close as Jungkook stepped back — it had not seemed like nearly enough. His gaze returned to the forgotten cake mixture as his hands found their way to the pockets of his dress pants, wordlessly urging you to continue.
From there you had been baking in silence, having followed the recipe as best as you could with Jungkook reading over your shoulder the entire time, warm breath fanning across your shoulder.
As the sugary smell filled the kitchen and the cake rose in the oven — you'd realized that this was something you could easily become attached to — and that perhaps you already were.
The sound of a key rattling its lock pulls you from the memory of last night and you glance up just in time to see Cassian jumping off the counter. "They're home!" He squeals, already headed for the hallway where the front door being pushed open could be heard. Quickly stuffing the cake back into the fridge, you head over to join the others.
Having scurried off ahead of you, Cassian was already by his father and sister who had just stepped over the threshold. The chilly December air hits you first, the cold which they had brought inside with them now lingers and you inhale the frosty scent of winter. Snow still clings stubbornly their coats, though quickly melting into the fabric and leaving it damp.
"Daddy! Daddy!" Cassian paws at his father's pants as he tries to grab his attention, "Me and nanny put up all the decorations, come look!" He eagerly attempts to tug his father along, uncaring for the fact that the man had yet to as much as get his shoes off.
Jungkook remains unbothered by his son's enthusiasm as he sets the bag he'd been carrying down to instead haul the small child into his arms. "You're dressed up," He hums when fiddling with the bow tie around Cassian's neck, to which the latter nods quickly.
"Nanny helped me pick it," He points proudly toward the accessory, "So I can be handsome just like you."
The corner of Jungkook's lip twitches at that — not quite a smile, but close — his eyes find yours over Cassian's shoulder. "Handsome, hm?" He huffs, the comment his son had made lingering between you a moment longer.
Clearing your throat, albeit loud in the quiet hallway, you pry your attention over to Rayne who stood beside him. She was dressed in a white blouse, its buttons done up to her chin. The plain jeans that had been paired with the top were held up by a small, black leather belt — its silver buckle glinting under the soft chandelier above.
Her gaze is fixed to the floor, the frown on her face not matching that of a birthday girl. She does not turn to glance at neither her brother nor father. The bag Jungkook had been holding, which you presumed to contain gifts from her grandparents was left untouched even as she shed herself of both her coat and shoes.
"Happy birthday!" You tell her excitedly, giving her a big smile in the hopes of it being reciprocated. It never is and Rayne only nods mutely in response.
Having set her little sibling down again, Jungkook was now unbuttoning his own coat methodically. "Rayne, you don't ignore someone when they're speaking to you," He grunts, one hand landing firmly on her shoulder as he gives her a nudge in your direction.
His daughter finally peels her eyes from the floor, turning them up toward you as she sends you a calculating look. "Thank you," She finally says, her voice low and unenthusiastic.
Jungkook doesn't seem all too pleased with the response but wisely chooses not to push her further as he instead lets himself focus on the festive hats you and Cassian were wearing. He cocks a brow in its direction, silently demanding an explanation for the rainbow shaped cones on your heads.
"Oh," Reaching up to instinctively adjust the hat, you chuckle lightly, "Cassian thought they would be a fun addition."
Next to his father, the boy in questions nods, "Yes! There is one for you and Rayne, daddy." He's already back to tugging on his father's clothes, this time succeeding in his mission to steer Jungkook to the living room as he stumbles gingerly after his son.
Rayne lingers by the shoe rack a moment longer, picking quietly at the sleeves of her shirt without making eye contact. The sound of Cassian's and Jungkook's retreating footsteps can be heard down the hall but she makes no move to follow them, and neither do you.
"Did you have a good time with your grandparents?" You ask when peering into the bag her father had left by the door. It contained what looked like knitted sweaters — deep blues and greens — something she could easily wear during the colder season.
Beside you, Rayne shrugs dismissively, not paying the presents much mind. "It was fine," She says as she lets her gaze wander across the hallway. When it finally lands on you there's no hostility in it, left is a quiet emptiness that you don't know how to fill. "We should probably go inside," She plainly states as she tucks her ponytail over one shoulder and heads down the same way her father and brother had disappeared.
Cassian had self-proclaimed himself as both organizer and director of the entire birthday party — it was important that the event be named a party. That being said, you did not know if he actually wanted to celebrate his sister on her day, or if he was simply thrilled by the idea of spending his Saturday doing something other than studying in the library.
Upon entering the living room he'd ordered that you take a seat next to his father while he hopped up beside Rayne on the couch opposite you. "You have to wear your hats!" He'd said as he nudged his sister with his elbow, pointing to the two rainbow shaped cones on the coffee table.
Jungkook huffed, though didn't move to grab the hat his son had ordered for him to. But when the frown on Cassian's face doubled in its intensity, his features twisted into something akin to conflicted hesitation.
With a resigned exhale that sounded an awful lot like defeat at a battle field, Jungkook leans forward to grab one of the hats that you and the young boy had prepared for them. He turns the plastic in his large hands, its rainbow colored pattern contrasting the ink on his fingers and the navy blue button up he wears.
He said nothing when placing the cone on top of his head though the crease between his brows spoke for itself. Securing the thin band under his chin, Jungkook's lip tugs into a displeased grimace that he tries his best to hide — but you don't miss it.
It was impossible not to laugh really — and a quiet giggle bubbled in your chest as you turned in your seat to get a better look at him. He appears strangely out of place with the childlike party hat on, and the bright colors do little to match the dark expression he sends you in return. Besides, the fact that the hat was sitting crooked on top of his head didn't exactly aid his case.
Jungkook raises a brow at you and it felt almost like a challenge, daring you to voice your opinion on his appearance. Perhaps you would have been inclined to, had it only been the two of you — but his son's eager smile on the other side of the coffee table makes you bite your tongue.
"Wait," You say, reaching out to adjust the hat he wears with gentle hands. You try not to let yourself linger on the way his eyes followed the movement as you straightened the cone on top of his dark hair, fingers sliding under his chin to adjust the elastic rubber band that kept it in place, "There. All better."
His gaze meets yours then — and you find him a lot closer than you had anticipated. Close enough to where if you leaned forward an inch or two, your noses would be sure to touch. You suddenly become acutely aware of the warmth his thigh provides where it presses against your own.
But Jungkook makes no move to sit back, even when the spacious couch allows it. And he doesn't point out the fact that you had yet to let go of the elastic band that looped under his chin, your fingers idly brushing the sharp edge of his jaw as your attention lingered on his dark eyes.
Cassian's giddy voice slices through the air and brutally startles you both from your trance. "Now we're all ready for the party!" He exclaims, thankfully oblivious to the way you had jumped from your seat as you scrambled to put more than an adequate amount of distance between yourself and his father.
When glancing over to the sofa opposite you, you find that Rayne had already slipped on her hat as well, an expression of indifference masking her features as she regards her dad silently.
Jungkook himself was clearing his throat lowly, gaze pointed to the table in front of him as he loosened the tie around his neck with rather jerky movements. And perhaps you were simply deluding yourself into seeing things that did not exist — but you could have sworn that the flush creeping up the back of his neck was real.
"Presents!" Cassian turns to the small pile sitting on the coffee table, organized by none other than himself, "Which one do you want to open first?" He at least has the decency to ask his sister, though his hands were already reaching for a small, green package.
Rayne merely shrugs, her eyes drifting over the selection before her with little interest. "I'll do that one," She says when pointing to the soft and awkward lump of brown that stands out among the clean-cut and rectangular presents with expensive looking wrapper. Her brother raises her a brow but doesn't question her choice as he hands it over.
You were admittedly not the best gift-wrapper, smoothing out edges and folding paper corners was not something you did for the fun of it. Most of the time you would have the store prepare it for you — but you felt that a personal touch was needed for this one, even if said touch was rather… unfortunate looking.
Thankfully Rayne doesn't seem too bothered by the tape stuck in random places to keep the wrapper together. She tore it carefully but the sound of paper ripping was still deafening in the living room.
Next to her, Cassian looked ready to crawl onto her lap to get a better look. His eyes were wide and his lips parted in anticipation as his brows rose and fell on his forehead with each breath he took. For a second it seems like he might urge her to hurry up, but one look from his father silences him with a pout.
Jungkook, too, was watching his daughter unwrap the present you had gotten for her with interest that he didn't attempt to hide. His fingers were tapping his knee slowly, a rhythmical movement that appears involuntary as his gaze lingers on the wrapper that Rayne was piling onto the coffee table, careful not to let anything fall.
She comes to a halt when the brown paper had been torn enough for her to uncover what was actually inside. You hold your breath as you gauge her reaction, teeth anxiously gnawing at your bottom lip when watching the surprise that strikes her features before they morph back into something unreadable.
"What is it?" Cassian asks as he leans impossibly close, fingers curling around the edge of the cushion he sits on.
Rayne remains silent, palm sliding across the purple fabric in front of her carefully. "A dress…" She finally murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. It was hard to tell if she actually liked it or not and her lack of enthusiasm made you waver as you shift uncomfortably in your seat.
"I wasn't sure of your size.. So if it's an ill fit we can always go and get it exchanged," You say when rubbing one of your arms awkwardly. The quiet nod she gives you is far from comforting and you were almost certain she hated the gift.
Next to you, Jungkook finally speaks up — his eyes have yet to leave his daughter, their attention hovering by the dress in her lap. "Hold it up," He says with a hum, leaning back against the couch as he studies the garment expectantly.
Rayne does as she's told without objections, if not for the quiet sigh that slips past her lips. She stands from the sofa, fingers hooking around the shoulder straps of the purple dress as she holds it up for her father to see.
The glitter that adorns the chest piece sparkles under the warm glow of the living room light, and the frills that flow seamlessly all the way to her feet sway gently as Rayne adjusts her grip on the garment. No one uttered as much as a word for ten long, painful seconds — even Cassian had gone quiet beside his big sister as the shimmer of the dress reflected in his big eyes.
Jungkook exhales as he tilts his head to the side, letting his gaze drag up and down the lilac piece before it flickered to his daughter — almost like he was trying to picture her in it.
"That looks like a princess dress," Cassian says, unable to keep his hands to himself as he reaches out to touch the frills carefully. "Will you wear it to the dance?" He then asks when peering up at her.
Rayne's entire body goes rigid at the mention of the Daddy-Daughter dance, her lips pressing into a thin line as she avoids looking anyone in the eye. Suddenly the gift you had given her feels like more like a demand than the kind gesture you had been intending for it to be.
Her brother doesn't seem to understand that the innocent question had struck a nerve, and he frowns as he awaits his answer.
"It's pretty," Jungkook says as he leans forward, elbows bracing themselves on his knees. Rayne looks up at the sound of her father's voice, her wary gaze meeting his. "Don't you agree?" He then prompts as he nods toward the dress she still holds.
It takes her a moment but in the end she gives a tiny tilt of her head. She seems intent to have the interaction end there but when Jungkook's eyes continue to linger expectantly she clears her throat softly. "Thank you, nanny," She says in a voice that sounds too small coming from her.
The rest of the present opening went by rather smoothy with the other gifts all being from Jungkook. Pencils accompanied by a brand new notebook, a handful of novels, most of which you hadn't read up until your high school years. She smiled politely at each item, thanking her father before handing them over to Cassian who seemed all the more eager to explore the array of gifts.
You wondered when Jungkook had found the time to purchase all of this — only two nights ago he claimed to have no idea what he was to get her. A small huff almost makes it past your lips, each gift seemed to align perfectly with what she would like and for a split second you wondered if the dress you picked had been too daring of a move.
When the coffee table was covered in torn wrappers and each present piled neatly on the couch beside her, Cassian declared that it was time to move on with the celebration — more specifically the cake.
"I'll show Rayne where she's going to sit," He says as he jumps from his seat, already extending a hand to his sister as he tugs her along toward the dining room.
That left you and Jungkook seated on opposite ends of the same couch, staring blankly at the wrapping paper scattered across the table. You had barely spoken a word to the other since last night, and that was becoming painfully obvious right now. In an attempt to fill the awkward silence you reach forward to start cleaning up the mess that gift opening had left behind.
"I'll do it," Jungkook grunts when grabbing some of the discarded paper, crushing it in his palm as he clears the table. He's not looking at you, too preoccupied with the task at hand to spare you a glance, which you're somewhat thankful for.
The sofa announces your departure with a soft creak when you rise to your feet, hands clasped in front of you with little purpose. "I'm uh… I'll get you a trash bag," Pointing a thumb over your shoulder you then turn quickly on your heel as you head for the kitchen — already missing Cassian's loud and distracting giggles.
"We need something to light the candles with," You said to no one in particular really as you rummaged through one of the many kitchen drawers. The cake had been pulled out from the fridge, now sat on the marble island behind you — awaiting only its lit candles before it was ready to be brought to the dining room.
The hand on your hip startles you from your search and you just about manage to save yourself from slamming your head against the cabinet above. "You're looking in the wrong one," Jungkook murmurs, his voice coming in against your ear as nothing but a quiet whisper.
He must have joined you in the kitchen once he finished cleaning up the aftermath of Rayne's gift unwrapping — but his arrival had slipped past you unnoticed — until now.
Without waiting for you to respond, Jungkook leans over to open the drawer next to the one you had been picking through, the hand not on your hip curling around the silver handle, though not before brushing your elbow in a caress that could have easily been written off as accidental.
"Here," He says when grabbing the box of matchsticks. There was nothing that betrayed any discomfort in him at your close proximity as Jungkook hands you the small box. He doesn't comment on the fact that your fingers brush his a moment longer, or that you had yet to close the previous drawer.
Somewhere in the distance, Cassian's loud voice can be heard as he chats excitedly with his sister in the dining room. Despite the fact that Jungkook's frame covers your own where he stands — you still feel strangely exposed in the spacious kitchen, painfully aware of the consequences that would follow if one of the kids decided to appear at this very moment.
"Thanks," You mumble, fist closing around the box as you push the drawer shut with a little more force than necessary. It's not until you turn around that Jungkook finally takes a step back, throwing a glance over his shoulder and toward the adjacent dining area, as though he shared your thoughts.
When there was no sign of either children, he relaxes as he exhales through his nose.
You, on the other hand, are already back to the cake — fingers moving with less coordination than normal as you strike a match. The flame takes to life on your third try, by that point your palms were already clammy and your heart beating erratically in your chest.
Jungkook leans against the kitchen island, closer than he should, you think, as he folds his arms across his chest. The stick burns out by the time you reach the fifth candle and you fumble for another one when Cassian suddenly appears in the doorway.
"Is it almost ready?" He asks in a hushed whisper, eagerly padding closer to peek over the kitchen island's edge, which he barely reaches over.
Nodding, you hum an 'almost' as you strike the second match. Perhaps you had underestimated the tremble to your fingers, or maybe it was the awkward angle in which you tried to light the stick — but the flame ends up catching on your finger rather than the candle.
The hiss slips past your unguarded lips and you nearly end up dropping the match all together as the sudden sting registers painfully.
Jungkook's hand clasping around your wrist burns almost hotter than the fire and your first instinct is to pull away from his grasp. You hadn't seen him move from his spot by the marble counter top but now he was right beside you, chest brushing against your arm when he reaches out to take the match from your scalded fingers as he puts the flame out.
Blinking in surprise, you crane your neck to meet his gaze. His brows are pinched together with barely concealed worry, dark eyes flitting between your hand and face. "Are you alright?" He rasps, his voice uncharacteristically hoarse as his thumb rubs the skin of your wrist gently.
It takes a moment for his question to click and when it finally does you give a small jerk of your chin. "I'm fine, it's just a small burn," You murmur, gingerly trying to free yourself of his grip.
Cassian had quickly made his way around the island and was now standing by your side. "Nanny!" He gasps a little too dramatically, "Are you hurt?" His wide eyes are fixed to the hand his father still cradles, bottom lip jutted out into a pout.
Jungkook finally seems to realize that his son was present and he lets you go as he clears his throat, stepping back enough for your bodies to no longer touch. He picks up the discarded box of matches, muttering something about doing it himself as he avoids Cassian's gaze.
"I'm fine, it was just—" You start only to be cut short by the young boy's frantic shake of his head as he grabs your sleeve and starts pulling you toward the sink.
"Don't worry," He says when standing on his tip toes to reach the faucet, "I will help you. Daddy always says to put it in cold water."
"Lukewarm water, Cassian." Jungkook mutters gruffly as he lights the remaining candles on the cake, "Not cold."
The boy frowns at that but ultimately nods as he tries to adjust the temperature for you. His hand is tiny in comparison to your own when he grabs your wrist clumsily, guiding your injured finger under the running stream. "There, nanny," He says, "Do you feel better now?"
You nod, giving him a small smile which he returns with one of his own. "I do, thank you, sweetie. I'm lucky to have you around, aren't I?"
Cassian's chest puffs out proudly and he opens his mouth to say something else, only for his father to interject, "Why don't you go keep your sister company? We'll be done here in a minute." His voice had reverted back to the same authoritative one he would use whenever something was non-negotiable.
His son seems to realize this as well and he lets your hand go reluctantly. "Okay…" He murmurs, sending you one last look of concern before heading back to the dining room, leaving you alone with Jungkook in the kitchen once more.
You let the water run over your finger for another minute. The burn had already faded but it was a cheap excuse to not face Jungkook who had surely finished lighting the candles by now.
"He's cute," You hum when reaching to turn the faucet off before drying your hands on the towel that hangs by the oven. Jungkook says nothing and when you turn you find him hovering over the cake silently. His shoulders carry that familiar tension that seemed to be apart of him and his palms are braced against the cool marble surface.
Walking over to stand beside him, you let your gaze fall on the cake as well — admiring your creation for a moment with a satisfied nod. The eight candles around her name were now lit, the flames flickering slightly as they ate away at the purple wax.
"I reckon we should hurry before they melt into the cake," You say, pausing as you await a response that never comes.
Finally Jungkook heaves a breath, reaching for the baked goods as he gestures for you to walk ahead of him into the dining room.
Rayne had very polite declined both your and Cassian's offer to sing for her, leaving the latter quite disappointed as he sank back in his chair. Though his spirits were quickly lifted once the cake was placed on the table — the same table you and him had spent so long decorating to fit the theme of the party.
"Make a wish," You had said as she blew out the candles. Seconds later Cassian had started prying her for details on said wish to which you told him that revealing it would make it lose its effect.
He'd frowned then, "But how will the people who makes the wishes come true know if she told me?"
When you had explained that those people knew everything he stiffened, wide eyes searching yours with worry. Rayne muttered something about wishes not being real, only for Jungkook to quickly shoot her down so to not ruin the experience for her younger brother. You had then helped her cut the first slice and the four of you shared the meal in comfortable silence.
The birthday party — though rather small — was still a success in your book.
After eating you and Cassian had stayed in the kitchen to clean up. Having the young boy by your side as you did the dishes was starting to become a habit. His presence was distracting, much so that you hadn't noticed both Rayne and Jungkook's departure until you finished drying off the last plate.
Leaving Cassian on the couch in the living room, you promised to return after a trip upstairs to fetch the deck of cards Rayne kept in her bedroom.
The steps groan and creak loudly under your weight when you climb them. One hand resting on the banister and nothing but the upcoming game on your mind, you made your way down the hall leisurely before stopping dead in your tracks at the sound of quiet conversation — coming from the room you had been headed toward.
Hesitating for only a second, you then carefully approach the source of your newfound curiosity.
You hadn't meant to eavesdrop, not really anyway, but the door to Rayne's bedroom had been left ajar and the murmured voices coming from inside pulls you closer like a dog on a leash. Stopping just out of sight, you manage to peer through the slivered crack the door allows, both your ears and eyes straining to catch what was going on inside.
Rayne sits on the edge of her bed, shoulders slumped inward and her hands resting limply in her lap. Her brows are pulled together with something heavy, lips pursed as she lingers in silence.
Jungkook is perched on one knee on the floor before her. His back is turned to you, the expression he wears is impossible to make out, but it was undoubtedly his voice that you had heard. It's soft, a lot softer than you think you'd ever heard it before — he spoke slowly, almost like one would in the presence of a frightened animal.
"Is there a reason why?" He asks, hands resting on top of his knee as he awaits his daughter's answer.
It takes Rayne a moment to respond. At first she merely shrugs, turning her head in the direction of the window as she stares at the setting sun outside. The crease on her forehead deepens and she exhales a short breath. "I just don't want to," She murmurs, her tone indifferent, had it not been for the way she cracked on the last syllable.
Her gaze shifts toward the door, like she was just noticing it not being fully closed. For a moment you think she might've caught sight of you and your heart jumps to your throat as you fall back silently. But then she simply turns her attention to her intertwined fingers where they rest on top of her legs.
"It's next Friday," She then adds lowly, "Aren't you busy?"
She was using the same excuse she had been using on you in the library two days ago, offering both of them a quick exit without ever actually addressing it. But Jungkook doesn't take her bait as he instead shakes his head slowly. "No," He says without missing a beat, and you watch as his hands uncurl from his knee to find hers.
Her hands are tiny in his palms but Rayne doesn't pull back from the contact. When she lifts her dark eyes to meet his they're guarded and the frown on her face has yet to ease up — almost like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"I can't dance," She blurts, the admission coming out almost defensively as she sends her father a calculating glance — in that moment she looked just like Jungkook. Even her jaw clenched in the same way his did, the way that always had you wondering whether he was in actual pain or not.
Jungkook exhales, thumbs rubbing over the back of her hands slowly. "Neither can I," He admits in the same soft tone he'd been using all this time. You see him tilt his head back just enough to peer up at her where she sits — to which Rayne turns her nose the other way with a conflicted expression.
"We have to practice," He muses, as his thumbs moves to her wrists, fingers encircling them gently.
"Practice…" Rayne mutters, like the idea only ridiculed the situation further. Her gaze shifts to the purple dress laying beside her on the mattress. The lilac shimmers were highlighted in the setting sun, their sparkles reflecting the half of her face still visible to you.
Jungkook loosens the hold on her wrist when Rayne lifts her hand toward the dress. Her fingers are careful, hovering just shy of the lace frills before caressing them reverently.
"It's pretty isn't it?" Jungkook says as he follows the movement.
You long to see his face, your feet inching you closer to the threshold before stopping yourself as you realize what kind of moment you would be intruding on if you made your presence known — so you keep quiet, trying to picture the serene expression he might bear.
Rayne nods slowly, her fingers curling around the long skirt. "It is," She quietly agrees and the two single words are enough to make your heart swell in your chest. The frown that had sewn her brows together was finally easing, and she straightened up a fraction as she continued to regard the garment next to her.
Jungkook waits patiently, never rushing her to speak as he instead turns his attention back to her hand that he still cradles between his own, allowing the back of his fingers to run along her open palm.
A minute passes, maybe even longer — it was hard to tell when the moment sucked you in so completely. Not until Rayne turns her attention back to her father is the silence broken again. "Do you think I'll look as pretty as her?" She asks, almost solemnly.
Whoever it was she was speaking of did not need to be addressed by name — for Jungkook's shoulders tensed as soon as the words were uttered. It was brief, almost nonexistent and had you not been watching his back so intently you would have probably missed the tense beat that lasted only a second.
He relaxes again with a sigh, his thumb pressing against the inside of her wrist gently. "Mm," Jungkook hums, "Prettier."
Rayne immediately shakes her head, the crease on her forehead returning as her lips tug into something displeased. "That can't be," She huffs, averting her gaze to the window, "I thought you said she was the prettiest girl in the world." She almost sounds ready to argue if it came down to it.
Jungkook sits quietly on the floor for a while, his head lowers slightly like he was considering something. When he picks it back up again he does so slowly, large hands squeezing around hers gently.
The ponytail no longer held all of her hair, with a strand coming undone as it framed her face. Jungkook reaches up, inked fingers catching the dark lock as he lets it run between them. "I must have been out of my mind back then," He says as he tucks the loose strand behind her ear, "Because I'm looking at her right now."
Rayne's eyes flicker back toward Jungkook and she actually manages a small smile, just enough to reveal tiny dents in her cheeks that you had never seen before and you feel your heart stutter at the sight.
Jungkook lets his hand drop back to cover hers as he gives it a squeeze and whatever he says next becomes muffled as you close the door once more — deciding to return them their privacy.
The second it shuts behind you however, a squeaky voice startles you. "Nanny," Cassian is standing by your side with a hopeful grin, for a second you worried that he might've caught you intruding on his father and sister, though thankfully there seems to be other things on his mind.
"Do you think I can have another slice of cake?"
── [ ✉️ ] Yes, happy birthday Rayne, I love you so much my daughter who I created and treasure like my own. Please come talk to me about the chapter, unless you hated it, then please don't tell me that because I will get quite sad... Okay, love you ladies endlessly <3
worst behaviour — jeon jungkook , series index , mdni 𑣲 ch: 22 this ain’t the last time _ written chapter / nsfw
“shut the fuck up and focus on fucking me, jungkook.”
wc: 6.3k / smut warnings: eating/kissing/riding/slapping/yappin. dom!oc moments, down bad!jk ofc, have fun !! <3
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“fuck… jungkook,” you breathe, head tilting back.
a broken whimper slips from your lips as his tongue drags through your folds.
he hums against you, the vibration shooting straight through your body. then he looks up at you through his lashes. one hand firmly gripping your thigh while the other holds your hip, pulling you closer to his mouth.
the sight alone makes your stomach clench.
your fingers thread through his hair, gripping tighter every time he circles your clit with the flat of his tongue.
he pulls back just enough to murmur against your inner thigh, his voice low and rough, “you taste so fucking good, darling.”
it’s almost laughable to think about how you even got here.
you blame jungkook entirely though.
barely twenty minutes ago, you had let him back into your apartment. and the second he stepped inside, he started teasing you relentlessly about your “cute little underwear,” which he had accidentally seen not so long ago, smirking like the cocky bastard he is.
you were really close to kicking him out again.
but then, in true jungkook fashion, he flipped the entire situation on its head.
“fine, you want me to make it even?” he’d said, already grabbing the hem of his shirt. before you could even protest, he pulled it off in one smooth motion, revealing that stupidly toned chest and abs like it was nothing.
you tried so hard to play it cool — rolling your eyes, scoffing, acting like the sight didn’t affect you. but your body betrayed you instantly. your knees felt weak. your pulse spiked. because no matter how much you wanted to deny it, jungkook was unfairly, annoyingly, and stupidly hot.
and maybe that’s why you started pushing back.
you teased him right back, throwing little comments his way, challenging him, provoking him with that sweet but dangerous tone that, surprisingly, drove him a little crazy. and you wanted to see how far he’d let you get away with it.
but what you didn’t expect, is for him to close the distance so fast.
because one second you were smirking at him. and the next, his hand was cupping the back of your neck and his mouth was crashing into yours — sudden, hungry, and demanding.
you should’ve been shocked.
instead, all you could think while his tongue slid against yours was:
thank fuck he did that.
and now here you are — sitting on the edge of your bed, thighs spread wide with jungkook kneeling between them, his mouth devouring your pussy like a man starved. his tongue is relentlessly licking and sucking on your clit. and your hands are buried in his hair, thighs trembling around his head as soft, filthy sounds fill the room.
jungkook groans, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh. he seems to love the way you’re falling apart — his grip on you tightens as he pulls you closer, burying his face deeper between your legs like he can’t get enough.
“mmh— fuck,” you whimper, back arching as his tongue flicks faster. he alternates between sucking on your clit and sliding his tongue inside you, licking up everything you give him. you’re so wet it’s embarrassing, but the wet, obscene sounds only seem to spur him on more.
one of his hands slides down, and you feel two thick fingers slowly push into you, curling up instantly to press against that spot that makes your toes curl. your thighs start to shake around his head.
“jungkook— oh my god,” you gasp, fingers tugging hard at his hair.
he doesn’t stop. if anything, he doubles down — fucking you with his fingers while his tongue works your clit in tight, messy circles. his shoulders are tense, breath hot and heavy against your core, soft satisfied groans leaving him every time you moan his name.
“you’re so sweet, darling. i fucking love it.”
you manage a breathless little laugh, barely holding it together. “is that what you say to other women?”
jungkook pulls his fingers out of you slowly, and brings them to his mouth. he looks straight into your eyes as he wraps his lips around them, tasting you with a low, satisfied hum.
“i’ve never tasted any another woman like this,” he says, voice husky and honest.
the confession hits you harder than expected. you moan softly at the sight, still trying to catch your breath. “never? why not?”
he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he leans in and starts pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs, then higher, across your lower stomach, like he’s savoring every inch of your skin. his lips are warm and wet, leaving a trail of kisses that makes your muscles flutter.
“my encounters with women were always quick,” he murmurs between kisses, his breath hot against your skin. “in and out. not much foreplay… no time for... this.”
he chuckles softly, almost like he’s amused at his own past, and continues kissing your stomach, slow and reverent, occasionally dragging his tongue lightly over your skin.
you let your head fall back, staring at the ceiling with your eyes half-closed, lost in the feeling of his mouth on you. then a soft, disbelieving laugh slips out.
“i can’t believe you…”
jungkook pauses and looks up at you, eyebrows slightly raised. “what do you mean?”
you look down at him, and something softens in your chest. your hand moves on its own, gently caressing his cheek before you push a few strands of hair off his forehead. he stays completely still, watching you with this quiet awe in his eyes, like he’s not used to being touched so tenderly while he’s on his knees.
you swallow, voice barely above a whisper.
“i can’t believe you just settled for quick fucks all this time.”
jungkook chuckles lowly, then he catches your hand on his cheek, turning his head just enough to press a slow kiss to your fingers, then your palm.
he rises slowly from the floor, unfolding his tall frame until he’s standing between your spread legs. your hand slides down naturally — from his cheek to his chest, then resting against his toned stomach, feeling the heat of his skin and the way his muscles tense under your touch.
his hand comes up to your chin, tilting your face up gently. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, eyes softening as he stares at you. and there’s a new glint there, in his eyes — something warmer, almost vulnerable.
“maybe that’s the reason i love it so much when it’s with you,” he murmurs, voice low and rough around the edges.
you look up at him, eyes hazy, heart beating harder than it should. then he continues, thumb still stroking your lip like he can’t stop touching you.
“because you’re more than just a quick fuck to me, darling.”
your breath catches in your throat, you feel your heart flutter for a second. your fingers curl into the soft sheet beneath you, unable to look away from the warm, honest look in his eyes.
“prove it,” you whisper, leaning into his touch on your chin, your thumb brushing lightly over his stomach where your hand still rests.
his eyes darken, a low, hungry groan rumbling in his chest as he catches your wrist and presses your palm flat against his hard, throbbing length through his pants. he leans down, his mouth brushing against your ear, hot breath fanning over your skin.
"i’ll prove every fucking word.”
he climbs over you on the bed, caging your head between his arms, his warm bare chest pressing against yours. his lips brush yours slow and soft, nothing like the hungry urgency from last time. "can you feel how hard i get just from looking at you?”
he settles his weight between your open thighs, the fabric of his pants brushing against your sensitive skin. you bite down hard on your lip. and you squirm under him, a soft needy whine bubbling up your throat.
"jungkook… that’s not fair."
he blinks down at you confused.
then you huff. your fingers already fumbling with his waistband. "i’m completely naked, and you still have your pants on. take them off, right now."
he chuckles as if he's amused, one hand covering yours where it fumbles with his waistband to still your fingers. and then you feel his lips trail wet, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw to your collarbone “easy, darling. let me take my time with you, yeah?”
you let out a soft whine. which makes gim curse under his breath, his voice coming out low.
“i swear, i fucking love it when you’re like this with me.”
you whine softly, squirming under him, hips rolling up against the hard bulge still trapped in his pants. the friction makes you both groan.
he finally gives in, sitting back on his knees just long enough to push his pants and boxers down. his cock springs free, thick and heavy, already leaking at the tip. your mouth practically waters at the sight.
you’re so fucking horny, it’s actually insane.
before you can reach for him, he’s back on top of you, settling between your spread thighs. the hot, bare length of him slides against your soaked pussy, teasing your clit with every slow roll of his hips.
“feel that?” he breathes against your mouth. “that’s all you, darling. all you. only you make me this fucking hard.”
you moan into his mouth as he kisses you deeply, tongue sliding against yours while he keeps rocking against you, coating himself in your wetness. every glide makes your toes curl.
“jungkook…” you whimper, nails digging into his back. “please…”
he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and hungry, but still soft around the edges.
“tell me what you want, darling,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against yours. “use your words.”
you look up at him, breath shaky, cheeks burning. your hands slide down his back, nails dragging lightly over his skin.
“let me ride you,” you whisper, voice husky with need. “wanna be on top.”
jungkook’s eyes flash with heat. a slow, cocky smirk tugs at his lips.
“yeah? you wanna take control, darling?” jungkook rolls his hips once, slow and deliberate, letting the thick length of his cock slide through your soaked folds, the head nudging your swollen clit with every teasing pass. “fuck, that’s hot.”
his voice is low and rough, dripping with lust. he pulls back just enough to flip onto his back beside you, one arm tucked lazily behind his head. the other hand strokes his glistening cock once, twice, as he watches you with those dark, hooded eyes that makes your stomach flip. his chest is still rising and falling, tattoos shifting over smooth skin, a thin sheen of sweat making him look even more obscene.
you sit up on shaky knees, thighs slick with your own arousal. as you lean over to open the bedside drawer, your fingers brush the unopened box of condoms and something in your brain stutters.
you almost let him fuck you raw just now.
the realization hits you hard — how easily you had spread your legs wider when he was grinding against you, how desperately you had tilted your hips, silently begging him to push inside with nothing between you. you would’ve let him fuck you raw.
and a twisted little part of you still wants it. you can almost feel it: the hot, bare stretch of him sliding deep, skin on skin, every ridge and vein dragging against your walls with nothing to dull the sensation. the thought alone makes your pussy clench around nothing, a fresh rush of wetness slipping down your thigh.
but damn, that was close. way too close.
you grab a condom anyway, tearing the wrapper with your teeth while your heartbeat thunders in your ears. jungkook’s eyes never leave you, dark and patient, like he knows exactly what filthy thoughts are running through your head.
“you good, ___?” he asks, voice a little softer but still thick with want. his hands reaches out to squeeze your thighs, thumbs brushing dangerously close to where you’re aching for him.
you nod quickly, rolling the condom down his throbbing length with practiced hands. the latex stretches tight over him and you hate how much you wish it wasn’t there. you love the safety of it, but god — the idea of feeling him raw, hot and pulsing inside you, filling you up with nothing stopping him… it makes your cheeks burn.
you swing your leg over him, straddling his hips. he groans low when you wrap your fingers around his cock and line him up with your entrance. you sink down slowly, inch by inch, until he’s buried deep inside you.
“fuck…” you both moan at the same time.
jungkook’s hands fly to your hips, gripping tight. his head falls back against the pillow, jaw clenched.
“shit, darling… you feel so fucking good. taking me so well, f-fuck yeah.”
you brace your hands on his chest and start riding him slowly at first, rolling your hips in deep, filthy circles, savoring the way he fills you so perfectly even with the thin barrier between you.
“why do you have those in there?” he asks suddenly, voice teasing and a little amused even while you’re riding his cock. his fingers dig into your hips, guiding you just a little faster.
you almost miss a breath. “what?”
“a brand new box of condoms?” his lips curve into that cocky smirk as he watches you, eyes half-lidded with pleasure.
you narrow your eyes at him, starting to grind down hard, your slick walls clenching around his length with every roll of your hips. “none of your business.”
jungkook lets out a deep, breathy chuckle that vibrates through his chest. he bites his lower lip, gaze dropping shamelessly to where your bodies connect — watching the way your pussy swallows him again and again, the condom glistening with your arousal.
“so secretive. i like it,” he murmurs, voice rougher now. “makes me wonder what else you’ve been planning to do with me.”
“fuck off,” you mutter, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. you lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest, and start riding him harder, faster, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room along with your shared moans.
he groans louder, one hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple. “fuck yeah, darling, keep riding me like that.”
you clench around him at his words, the earlier fantasy flashing through your mind again — how dangerously tempting it would be to peel that condom off and feel every inch of him raw, hot, and pulsing inside you. but you push the thought down and ride him even deeper instead.
“like this?” you breathe.
“just like that— fuck,” he groans, eyes still locked on where your bodies connect. “oh fuck, look at you… riding me so pretty. you’re soaked, baby. i can hear how much you want me.”
you lean forward, hands planted on either side of his head now, bouncing on his cock. your tits bounce and brush against his chest with every movement. jungkook’s hands slide up to squeeze them again, thumbs flicking over your nipples.
you moan, your voice shaky. “feels so fucking good, jungkook.”
he smirks up at you, even while panting. “yeah? you like my cock stretching you out? wanna tell me how much you love it, darling?”
you bite your lip. you can hear the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. and without thinking, you sit up straighter, one hand on his chest for balance.
you roll your hips slow and deep, grinding down on his cock in lazy circles, savoring every thick inch of him stretching you open. the pace is filthy, and intimate. jungkook’s hands slide to your thighs, gripping them tightly as he watches you with hooded eyes.
“fuck, i can’t stop looking at you,” he groans, “you’re riding me so good like you own my cock. you really needed it this bad, huh darling?”
his lips curve into that annoying, smug smirk even while he’s buried deep inside you.
you narrow your eyes, breath shaky.
“shut the fuck up and focus on fucking me, jungkook.”
he chuckles breathlessly, the sound breaking into a soft moan as you sink down on him again, taking him to the hilt. his hips roll up lazily to meet yours, pushing just a little deeper.
“s-so demanding,” he teases, voice rough and dripping with amusement. “you talk so dirty when you’re this wet. you gonna cum just from riding on me like this? or do you need me to talk you through it?”
he bites his lip, eyes locked on your face as you move on top of him, slow and sensual. his hands squeeze your ass, guiding you just enough to make you feel every drag and press of his cock inside you.
“god, you’re clenching around me so tight… you really like it when i run my mouth, don’t you? i know i’m good at it.”
that cocky little smirk is still there, even as his breath catches and his abs tense under your palm with every roll of your hips.
you bite your lip again. and without thinking, you sit up straighter, one hand still planted on his chest for balance.
you don’t know what he’s trying to do. provoke you? tease you? you have no idea, but you want to feel this moment without his cocky mouth ruining it.
“be quiet, jungkook,” you breathe.
he doesn’t stop. if anything, your words seem to excite him more. he groans loudly as he rolls his hips up, hitting that perfect spot inside you so good your thighs shake. his voice comes out rough and ecstatic, still dripping with that teasing edge.
“fuck— are you trying to be dominant right now? that’s so fucking sexy, darling. you look so hot on top of me like this.”
and you’ve had enough.
you steady yourself with one hand on his chest and ride him a little harder, then bring the other hand down across his cheek in a sharp, sudden slap. it’s not brutal, but it is firm enough to turn his head slightly and wipe that smirk right off his face.
the sound echoes softly in the room.
“is that dominant enough for you?” you say, a small smirk tugging at your lips.
jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise, lips parted. and for a second he just stares up at you, stunned, the faint red imprint of your hand blooming on his cheek. then you feel his cock twitching hard inside you.
you freeze, stopping all movement.
“uh… sorry— i.. i don’t know why i just did that. i mean, well i did know but i didn’t mean to—”
“…fuck,” he breathes, voice hoarse, cutting you off.
your stomach drops. you start panicking.
shit, maybe he’s mad. you should’ve asked first. what if he’s uncomfortable? what if this is over? what if he leaves right now—
“that…” he starts, his hands gripping your hips tighter, fingers digging into your skin, “was fucking amazing.”
you blink, heart still racing.
“wait… what?”
he looks up at you with dark, hungry eyes, the red mark on his cheek making him look even hotter somehow. his chest is heaving under your palm.
“do it again,” he rasps, voice lower than before. his hips roll up slowly, pushing his cock into you. “slap me while you’re riding me. i fucking loved it.”
you blink again.
“wait— are you serious?”
jungkook lets out a low, breathless chuckle, his eyes dark and blazing as he looks up at you. he slowly rolls his hips again, pushing deeper into your warmth, making you both moan softly.
“i said it was amazing,” he repeats, voice rough. “you slapping me while you’re riding me like that? shit, ___. i didn’t know you had that in you. it’s so fucking hot.”
he licks his lips, thumb gently brushing over the skin of your hip as he keeps the slow, sensual rhythm going.
“you gonna do it again?” he asks, almost challenging, but there’s clear excitement in his tone. “or are you too shy now, darling?”
you’re still a little stunned, but the way he’s looking at you — like he wants you even more — makes heat flood your body again. you start moving your hips once more, slow and deep, grinding on him in lazy circles.
“you really liked it?” you whisper, almost shy.
“loved it,” he groans, eyes fluttering for a second as you clench around him. “fuck, do it whenever you feel like it. slap me, ride me, use me… i’m all yours.”
he’s insane.
saying shit like that? you know it’s probably just the heat of the moment, just sex talk, but holy fuck — the way he’s looking up at you with those blown-out eyes, practically begging you to slap him again… oh yeah, it definitely does something dangerous to you.
your hips start moving again on their own, slow and deep, grinding down on his cock in lazy circles while you stare at him, still a little dazed.
“you’re actually crazy,” you whisper, as you feel him throb inside you. “is that your kink?”
jungkook’s eyes are half-lidded, lips parted, that red mark on his cheek making your stomach twist in the hottest way.
“wha— what do you mean?” he breathes out.
“is that your kink?” you ask breathlessly, your voice getting softer. “getting slapped?”
jungkook blinks up at you, his chest rising and falling fast. for a second he looks like he’s thinking about it, while you continue to ride him nice and slow.
then a lazy, slightly surprised smile spreads across his face.
“...i think it just became one,” he admits with a low chuckle that turns into a groan when you grind down on him. “i promise, i didn’t know until you did it. but the second your hand hit my cheek… my cock twitched so hard inside you. i felt that shit in my fucking spine.”
damn.
he slides his hands up your thighs, squeezing as he watches you move on top of him.
“guess i like it when you put me in my place like that,” he murmurs, voice husky. “especially when you’re looking down at me all flushed and pretty while my dick is buried deep in you. it’s hot as fuck, darling.”
you clench around him at his words and
he rolls his hips up to meet yours, slow and sensual, dragging his cock against that spot that makes your breath hitch every single time.
“you have no idea how sexy you look right now,” he continues, breathing heavier. “sitting on my cock like you own it… slapping me when i run my mouth… holy shit, i think i’m fucking addicted.”
you let out a soft, embarrassed laugh, but it melts into a moan when he hits a particularly deep angle. your hands press harder on his chest as you ride him a little faster, still keeping that wet, filthy rhythm.
“you’re such a freak, jungkook,” you mutter, but there’s no bite to it. you’re just teasing.
he smirks up at you.
“you’re the freak,” he corrects, voice dropping low. “and i love it when you get freaky like that.”
you huff out a soft laugh, but it quickly melts into a moan as you clench around him hard. jungkook hisses through his teeth, head falling back against the pillow for a second, eyes squeezing shut.
“fuck—” he groans, breath shaky. “do that again.”
he lifts his head, eyes locking onto yours with pure desperation and heat.
“please, baby…”
you bite your lip, heart racing.
please? baby? that’s new.
the mix of his filthy words and that needy look in his eyes is driving you crazy. you lean forward slightly, changing the angle, and start bouncing on him a little harder, the wet sounds growing louder.
“you really want me to be mean to you, huh?” you whisper, almost testing him.
jungkook groans deep in his chest, his hands sliding up to squeeze your ass as he helps guide your movements.
“only like this,” he breathes. “only when you’re on top of me looking like a fucking goddess. be as mean as you want, darling… i can take it.”
you pause for a second, hips still slowly rolling on his cock as you look down at him. a small, amused smile tugs at your lips.
“yeah?” you whisper, voice soft but dripping with heat.
you grind down on him nice and deep, clenching around his length as you watch his reaction. jungkook’s breath catches, fingers tightening on your hips like he’s trying not to lose it.
he looks up at you with dark, hazy eyes, waiting, almost daring you to do something.
you lean forward slightly, as you keep that slow, filthy rhythm, your wetness coating him with every roll.
then you smile, something playful flickering in your eyes.
“we’ll see about that.”
. . . . . ,
after what feels like two hours, the only sounds in the room are your heavy breathing and the faint beating of your hearts.
you’re collapsed on top of him, cheek pressed against his chest, both of you sweaty and spent. jungkook’s arms are wrapped loosely around your waist, one hand gently stroking up and down your back in slow, soothing motions. eventually, jungkook lets out a soft sigh and gently taps your hip.
“___, baby.. i should probably take the condom off before we make a mess,” he murmurs, voice raspy and tired.
you hum in agreement and slowly lift yourself off him. he holds the condom at the base as he slips out of you, then ties it quickly and drops it into the small trash bin beside your bed — landing beside the other two you’ve already used tonight.
the second he’s done, he pulls you back down onto his chest, wrapping both arms around you tightly. his skin is warm and slightly damp with sweat. one of his hands resumes stroking your back in slow, soothing circles while the other rests possessively on your waist.
“darling,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “stay close to me.”
you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, legs tangling with his. the room feels peaceful now, the earlier heat replaced by comfortable silence.
jungkook holds you like he doesn’t want to let go anytime soon, his fingers still gently tracing patterns on your skin. he presses a lazy kiss to the top of your head, his voice low and raspy when he speaks again.
“you okay?”
you nod against his shoulder, humming quietly. “yeah… really okay.”
jungkook chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. he tightens his arms around you and pulls the blanket over your bodies, cocooning you both in warmth.
“good,” he says, kissing the top of your head again. you smile sleepily, curling even closer into him.
for a while, you both just lie there in comfortable silence, legs tangled, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your bare back.
“you brought snacks earlier, right?” you mumble softly against his chest, voice sleepy and quiet.
jungkook chuckles, the sound low and gentle as it vibrates through you. “yeah, i did. some strawberry milk, those honey butter chips you like, and those chocolate ones with the almonds. they’re probably still on the table… getting warm now.”
you smile, tracing a finger over his collarbone.
“you remembered i like the honey butter ones?”
“of course i did,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “i was trying to bribe my way back into your apartment. didn’t think i’d end up in your bed instead.”
you let out a small laugh and lightly pinch his side.
“cocky fucker.”
he grins, squeezing you closer to his body.
“cocky, sexy and handsome fucker,” he corrects playfully.
you chuckle, the sound muffled against his skin.
then his voice gets softer. “how do you feel? are you tired?”
you shake your head, nuzzling deeper into his neck, breathing in his warm skin.
“i’m good..” you pause for a second. “you?”
“amazing. best i’ve felt in months,” he admits quietly. his hand keeps stroking your back, slow and soothing. “i mean, me and my right hand have become best friends ever since our first sex session, remember?”
you try to hide your face, embarrassed but smiling.
“shut up, jungkook.”
there’s a short, comfortable silence before you ask, voice barely above a whisper.
“you haven’t been with anyone after me?”
jungkook stays quiet for a moment, staring at the ceiling while his fingers move up to your hair, gently caressing through the strands.
“no,” he answers simply.
you lift your head slightly, propping up on his chest to look at him.
“don’t lie to me.”
he turns his head to meet your eyes, expression soft but serious.
“darling, i might be a cocky fucker but i’m never a liar,” he says, voice low. “you know me better than that.”
you roll your eyes, but you can’t help smiling anyway. jungkook grins at your reaction, then slides his hand behind your neck, gently pulling you down to him.
he kisses you slow and deep, tongue brushing against yours lazily, like he has all the time in the world. then his other hand moves up to cup your breast, squeezing it softly before his thumb starts circling your nipple, teasing it until it hardens under his touch.
you sigh into his mouth, melting against him again as he plays with your tits, kneading them gently while kissing you like he’s addicted. then his fingers pinch your nipple softly, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, and a moan spills from your lips straight into his mouth.
little sparks shoot through your body, straight down between your legs, making your pussy clench with fresh need. you whimper, hips twitching involuntarily against him as he keeps kissing you, swallowing every sound you make like he can’t get enough.
you pull back just enough to breathe, lips still brushing against his.
“jungkook…” you whisper between lazy kisses. “can we do this again?”
he freezes for a second, then pulls back to look at you properly, eyebrows raised in genuine surprise.
“again?” his voice is low, a little rough. “like… right now?”
you let out a tired laugh and shake your head, burying your face in his neck again, for a moment. “no, no,” you mumble against his skin. “not right now, you animal..”
jungkook chuckles softly, the sound warm and deep in his chest. his hands move to your waist, squeezing you gently, like he can’t quite stop touching you. you press a few slow, lazy kisses along his collarbone and down to his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin under your lips. he lets out a low, breathy hum that turns into a soft groan when your mouth brushes over one of his nipples. and after a moment you rest your chin on his sternum, looking up at him with heavy-lidded eyes.
“is it weird that i’m asking that already?” you murmur. “we literally just finished and i’m already thinking about next time…”
jungkook lets out a surprised little laugh, the sound warm and genuine.
“you crazy?” he asks, amusement clear in his voice. “if anything’s weird right now, it’s you not asking for a fourth round, ms. insane stamina.”
you chuckle and lightly smack his chest.
“shut up. be serious for two seconds.”
he’s still smiling, but his expression softens when he looks at you properly. “fuck, darling,” he breathes, sounding genuinely stunned. “i thought you were gonna kick me out after we were done. but here you are… lying on my chest, kissing me, and asking for more? i’d have to be stupid to say no right now.”
you smile, a warm flutter settling in your stomach. without saying anything else, you lean up and kiss him — slow, deep, and lazy. your lips move against his unhurriedly, tasting him as his hands slide from your waist to your back, palms spreading wide across your skin, pulling you against him while he kisses you back.
the kiss lingers for a long moment, sweet and intimate, before you eventually pull back just enough to rest your forehead against his.
“why would i kick you out anyway?” you say lightly, voice casual. “we’re friends.”
jungkook repeats the word quietly, almost like he’s tasting it. “friends…”
there’s a strange pause. his fingers stop moving on your skin for a second. you can feel him thinking, like the word doesn’t quite fit anymore and he knows it.
you shrug one shoulder, tracing lazy patterns on his chest with your fingertip.
“i mean, yeah… i guess we’re way past that at this point. so maybe friends with benefits? fuckbuddies?”
he stares at you for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. almost like he’s surprised you said it out loud. like maybe he’s been thinking the exact same thing but didn’t expect you to admit it.
“oh… we are?” he asks, voice quieter now.
you nod, suddenly feeling a little shy under his gaze but trying not to show it.
“yeah,” you say, chuckling lightly. “after everything we just did… you know, three fucking rounds, jungkook. i think we passed the ‘just friends’ line a long time ago.”
he stays silent, his hand now sliding up to play with your hair. you can tell his mind is spinning even though he’s trying to keep his face relaxed.
jungkook lets out a breathy, disbelieving laugh and rubs a hand over his face.
“so we’re friends who fuck,” he mutters, eyes drifting up to the ceiling for a second. his voice is quiet, almost like he’s testing how the words taste out loud. then a low chuckle rumbles through his chest, warm and a little bitter. “damn, our fake relationship really led us to this point, huh?”
you chuckle and lightly smack his chest.
“don’t say it like that,” you say, smiling as you hide your face against his neck again, embarrassed but amused. “it’s not that deep, right? we’re just… having fun. really good, really messy fun. no need to overthink it.”
he wraps both arms around you tighter, one hand resting possessively on your ass as he holds you close. you can feel his heartbeat against your cheek — a little faster than before.
“yeah…” he says after a while, repeating your words. “no need to overthink it.”
as he says it, his other hand moves up to your hair again, fingers gently threading through the strands in slow, soothing strokes. he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, lingering there for a few seconds longer than necessary.
the silence that follows feels heavier than before.
jungkook stares at the ceiling.
what he said earlier — during and after sex, about wanting more, about how he’d be stupid to say no — keeps echoing in his head. he realizes with quiet clarity that he meant every single word. and it wasn’t just the heat of the moment or post-sex haze.
he realises he actually meant it. that he really wants this. that he really wants... you.
but the second that truth settles in his chest, he shoves it back down hard.
no. you’re right. he shouldn’t overthink this. it’s just fun. it’s just sex.
his hand slides lower, palm smoothing over the curve of your ass, squeezing once with familiar possessiveness. you’re just really good friends… who fuck. that’s it. that’s all it has to be. he’s jeon jungkook — the fuckboy who doesn’t catch feelings, who keeps things light and fun and filthy. he likes making you moan, likes watching you fall apart under him, likes the way your body fits perfectly against his after. pleasure. release. fun. nothing deeper.
then he lets out a slow, controlled breath, trying to push the ache out of his ribs.
you shift against him, sleepy and soft, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, holding him tighter. your lips brush his collarbone, warm and lazy, and one of your legs slides between his, thigh pressing lightly against his spent cock. the contact sends a faint spark through him even now.
jungkook tilts his head and presses another gentle kiss to the top of your head, lips lingering in your hair as he inhales.
“fuck buddies,” he says, like a silent reminder, a quiet chant to keep his stupid heart in check.
you hum softly in response, the sound vibrating against his throat. you don’t seem to notice the storm in his head, and you just stay curled against him, warm and trusting, your breathing growing slower as sleep starts to pull you under.
jungkook closes his eyes, jaw tight for a second, then forces himself to relax. his arm wraps around your waist now, holding you a little tighter than a casual fuckbuddy probably should. his thumb keeps stroking your side in soothing strokes while his mind keeps whispering the same lie he’s trying so hard to believe.
just friends.
just really good fucking friends.
that’s all.
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note: ayyyy wsp my sweet bbys !!! 😋 i know this took me a while (has it been a while? idk) , but the wait was totally WORTH it , i finished the chapter at 4k words two days ago, and then i decided to add more scenes cuz why the fuck not, and oh my god yes, i am so happy with how this turned out !!! anw, lmk ur sweet sweet thoughts <3 mwah 🩷
also shoutout to my bbyg @bloosomjoon for sending in this ask because it inspired me to add the slap scene like — i read it and went ‘this absolutely has to happen, yep, this is totally canon’. love you fr xoxo
𓄲 "Dangerous," He whispers when he lifts a hand to have the back of it stroke your cheek. You lean in to the touch, savoring it before it disappears. Despite his statement, Jungkook does not let you go — perhaps he wishes to live in this reality for just a little longer too.
전정국 x f!reader ˖ ࣪ ꉂ🗯˙ ‹— cw dilf!jungkook single dad jungkook nanny!reader 1980s au slowburn fluff angst (eventual) explicit content age gap (jungkook is 30, reader is 20) oc!cassian/oc!rayne (jk's children) kisses (because they cannot help themselves, neither can I)
⧽ word count ⋮ 5.9k
average reading time ⋮ 30 minutes
── [ ✉️ ] More Cassian and Rayne action, finally. I've missed them so terribly. This is like, suppose a build up for a lot of different things to come. Mystery BTS member finally gets revealed as well. I think this cameo will be a lot of fun to explore. Drastically less of Jungkook and OC (we will survive, I hope). Yes, we're entering a very fun era of HW, I'm much excited. Feedback in the comments/reblogs and asks are much appreciated <3
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chapter 17 — "Daddy-Daughter Dance"
November passed in dreary fashion, just like it did every year. The days grew shorter and colder to the point where you had to force yourself out of bed in the mornings. Waiting by the bus stop for a brief five minutes suddenly felt eternal and commuting back and forth to class became a dreaded part of your routine.
This winter felt harsher than the last. It came quicker, catching both you and your wardrobe off guard. The layers of clothes you threw on each morning did little against the biting frost and you realized that you would need to replace the worn out sneakers you had been housing for the past twelve months.
Suppose there was some comfort to be found in the warmth of Jungkook's car. It had started out as a one time thing, the call came no less than a week after he'd dropped you off at home — with him telling you that he happened to be in your area for a meeting and offered to pick you up before getting the children from school.
Then it happened again a few days later. He used the same excuse, brought up the same proposal, and you accepted. After picking you up a forth time he stopped calling. But when you left your apartment you would always find the familiar sight of his black car, parked just outside your door.
The ride was brief, no more than fifteen minutes later were you outside the large building of the children's school. He didn't talk much, Jungkook never really did, though some days he would ask about your classes — eyes finding yours every now and again as you rambled on about upcoming exams. His responses were short but you could tell that he was paying attention.
Neither of the kids questioned this new arrangement. Cassian, for his part, only seemed happy at the prospect of getting to see you earlier as he went on about his day, eagerly chatting all the way home from his spot in the backseat.
Rayne sat quiet, her gaze trained to the windows — occasionally drifting between you and her father, but she said nothing.
The first snow came in tandem with the month of December. You had barely made it through a week before the ground was coated in white. Cassian was ecstatic, eagerly tugging on your sleeve as he begged to go outside and play. You had tried to tell him that there was not enough snow yet to actually make anything of it, but the young boy was insistent.
You spent a good hour outside that day. And even as the tip of his nose turned a bright red and his cheeks dusted pink — Cassian did all he could to stay out in the garden for as long as possible. It wasn't until you had threatened him with the possibility of a fever that he'd finally let himself be led inside once more.
Today the sun was hiding behind the thick clouds imposing on the sky. Though it was no later than three pm, the world outside still seemed dark. The library was quiet, save for the soft scribble of Cassian's pen as he practiced his hand writing for class.
Rayne was sitting beside you, occasionally flipping through a page in her textbook as she read. Her birthday was coming up in two days and you had been meaning to ask her if there was anything she wished for. So far you'd been met with shrugs and pursed lips as she told you that there was nothing in particular that she wanted.
Fingers drumming against the table softly, you study her silently. Her wardrobe was very simple, consisting mostly of muted colors and long pants. Given the colder season you hadn't expected her to go all out in skirts and dresses, but a quick peek into her closet yesterday had proven that she did not own any to begin with.
You thought about hair clips only to decide against it. Rayne did not do much with her hair aside from the simple ponytail it would be thrown into. She wore no bracelets, you wondered if she'd even appreciate you getting her one.
Then there were the books… Your gaze lingers on the text book in front of her, wondering what kind she would like, if there was anything she hadn't read before. That's when the flicker of purple catches your attention. Shoved underneath the open book, you could make out the thin lilac paper, almost intentionally hidden from view.
"What's that?" You ask before being able to stop yourself, one finger reaching out to tap against the paper's corner.
Rayne pauses, dark eyes snapping from the paragraph she'd been fixated on and over to where you were pointing. Her shoulders stiffen, hands curling a little tighter around her homework. She hesitates, obviously aware of both your and now Cassian's stare as she fiddles with the page idly. Reluctance is written across her face but in the end she pulls the sheet out from underneath her text book.
It's a poster. Dark purple hues with lighter swirls and what appears to be the silhouette of a young girl in a dress. You study the picture for a moment before briefing over the bold text written by the top.
"A Daddy-Daughter dance?" You muse, brows lifting on your forehead as your attention returns to the shadow of the girl on the poster.
For a moment you're transported years back, to when your own school would host those annual balls. That night had been the best of the year. Getting to dress up and have your dad lead you to the dance floor — where you had felt like a real princess, someone straight out of a fairytale.
Your father hadn't been the greatest dancer, the old moccasins which he refused to take off were certainly not of any help either. In fact the two of you would stumble over each other's feet more than actually dance, giggling awkwardly as he saved the ordeal by twirling you around on the spot — and yet the memories remains one of your fondest ones.
Glancing over at Rayne, you try to picture her in a flowing dress, her hair let go from the confines of the ponytail and a shiny necklace around her neck. Perhaps she could even let you paint her nails a sheer pink?
Cassian interrupts the momentary silence as he butts in with a question of his own. "What is that?" He sounds genuinely curious, wide eyes tracking the poster in his sister's hands. But Rayne only sends him a sharp glare, quickly shoving the paper back under her textbook like she wanted to forget the subject being brought up in the first place.
"It's an event your school organizes," You say as you lean back in your seat, gaze flickering between both children — the elder looking quite miserable at the prospect whereas her younger brother seemed excited. "All the girls are meant to dance with their dads," You explain with a vague gesture in her direction.
Cassian perks up at that, "Will Rayne and Daddy dance together?"
You nod but before you can get as much as a word out, Rayne cuts you off with a short scoff. "I'm not going," She says, head bowed and her gaze back to the text book in front of her as she pretends to read. Her shoulders were stiff as a board, lips pressed into a firm line as she avoids looking at any of you.
"Why not?" Turning in your seat, you lean your elbow against the chair's back rest as you give her a long once-over. "The Daddy-Daughter dance is one of the most fun parts of the school year."
Rayne simply shakes her head mutely, fingers fiddling with the corner of the page, debating on turning it. "Because I don't want to," She spits out, brows pinching together across her forehead. Tension radiates off of her in hot, tightly coiled pulses.
After a pause she adds, "Besides, father probably doesn't want to either." She gives a shrug, hiding behind the excuse, "He's busy anyway."
Silence falls over the library as soon as the words leave her and Rayne does her best in ignoring both you and her brother as she returns to her homework. Cassian looks as though he wants to say something else but the look you send his way makes him back off again.
The sound of scribbles on paper and a page being turned crowds the now thick air. Slumping back in your seat with a resigned exhale, you decide to drop the matter again, for now at least.
Going back to your job as the children's nanny after what happened between you and Jungkook hadn't been difficult. Spending time with them felt just like normal, however, spending time with them in the presence of their father — was close to torture.
Thankfully he'd worked late enough for you to have dinner with the kids alone today, which ended up being re-heated leftovers. Dishes were done with the help of Cassian who dried them meticulously before handing them to his sister who placed them aside. The atmosphere had remained warm despite your conversation with Rayne in the library.
But it was in the midst of your regular pre-bed time run — which involved making sure the younger actually brushed his teeth rather than shoving the toothbrush around in his mouth — that the knock to the bathroom doorframe had startled all three of you.
None of you seemed to have picked up on the sound of the front door unlocking — though it might've been difficult given how loudly the children had been bickering which each other just moments ago. Though all conversation fell flat as you turned toward Jungkook who stood in the doorway.
He's dressed in work attire, the tie around his neck still in place — signaling that he had arrived back home just now. Hands buried into the depths of his pocket, Jungkook lets his gaze shift between the three of you slowly.
Aside from his newly developed habit of picking you up before the kids, little had changed between the four of you, if not for the way his eyes lingered on yours a moment longer than they should before he forces them back to Cassian again. It was subtle, enough for only you to pick up on, enough for only you to feel strangely awkward all of a sudden.
"Daddy!" His son gargles around the toothbrush in his mouth, looking like he wants to run up to his father, though restrained by the hand you keep on his arm as you attempt to clean his teeth.
Jungkook lets out an amused exhale where he leans against the doorframe. "Have you had a good time?" He asks, his voice betraying nothing but interest in his child.
To that Cassian nods again, nearly knocking the toothbrush from your grasp and you adjust your grip with a small huff, unable to keep the smile off your lips. "A rather long one I'd say," You pull your hand back to nudge him in the direction of the sink so that he could spit.
Cassian rushes over to rinse his mouth, leaving you crouched on the floor next to Rayne who had just finished patting her face dry with a small towel. She hadn't said much since your last conversation, only communicating through nonverbal cues and short, curt responses.
Part of you wants to bring up the Daddy-Daughter dance right now since Jungkook was here. Another part of you knows that she won't appreciate the gesture and you keep silent.
After loudly spitting the remnants of toothpaste under the running faucet, Cassian is on his father in an instant, tiny arms curling around the fabric of his dress pants tightly. Jungkook's brows twitch at the sight of his perfectly ironed clothes being so carelessly pawed at, but makes no comment on it as he bends down to lift the young boy into his arms — much to Cassian's delight as he squeals.
Pushing yourself to your feet, you turn toward the little boy's folded pajamas resting on top of the counter, to grab it for him, seeing as Jungkook had his hands full.
Your fingers are just shy of touching the soft fabric when his voice suddenly fills the bathroom, only this time it's much closer. "It's alright, I've got it." Jungkook had moved from his spot by the door, his son still cradled in one arm as the other reached for the same clothes you were.
He seems to realize his mistake halfway through, shoulders tensing beneath his button up when his pinky brushes yours. The touch is brief, barely there at all, but it shoots through you like fireworks.
Without meaning for it to, your head snaps in his direction, eyes widening as they meet his dark ones. Jungkook is watching you with a guarded expression, and though you know you should turn away, neither of you seem able to. Cassian rests his forehead against his father's chest — oblivious to the unspoken emotions surrounding him.
"I'm sorry," Jungkook finally grunts, withdrawing his hand where it had lingered next to yours. A muscle in his jaw ticks as he averts his gaze, arm falling limp by his side.
You blink, tearing your attention away from him and back to the folded pajamas that now stare back at you tauntingly. "It's okay," You manage to murmur when grasping the light fabric tightly, avoiding looking directly at him as you hand over Cassian's sleep wear.
He takes it from you just the same, and this time your fingers don't touch.
With a subtle tilt of his head he adjusts his hold on his son. "Tell everyone goodnight," He says, keeping his eyes solely on the young boy in his embrace.
Lifting his head just enough to peer at you through his lashes, Cassian hums tiredly. "Goodnight, nanny," He says, gaze flitting over to his sister, "Goodnight, Rayne." He receives only a tiny nod in response but doesn't seem too upset about it as he curls back against his father's chest.
Jungkook turns on his heel, not sparing you another glance as he heads out of the bathroom and down the hall with a sleepy child in his arms.
Only once his presence no longer takes up the space you stand in do you manage to look up at the mirror. In its the reflection you find Rayne already watching you. Her brows are tugged together and her lips pursed, though she makes no comment on what she had seen, if she had seen anything to begin with.
"You ready for bed?" You ask, plastering on the most convincing smile you could manage, hoping and praying that she would not catch the slight tremble to your voice.
Rayne simply shrugs, hanging the small towel on the edge of the sink before sighing, "I guess I am."
Inside the living room the air is warm and outside the night grows darker and colder. Most of the heat radiates from the fire in front of you, the one Jungkook had already lit when you returned downstairs after closing the door to Rayne's bedroom.
The flames dance across your face, casting half of it in shadows and you blink slowly. Watching the embers spark from the firewood was a welcome distraction as you tried to sort through the thoughts inside your head. Saturday was only a day away and you had yet to think of a suitable gift for Rayne.
"What do you think she wants?"
Your questions hangs between you for a moment and you listen to the crackle of the fire. Children were usually very easy to please. A stuffed animal, the newest shiny, plastic toy — anything other than the thick knitted socks that would cause instant frowns and awkwardly plastered on smiles.
Rayne was difficult. Truth to be told, you had been mulling over her birthday present for a near week at this point. She was incredibly difficult to read, not one to share much about anything that interested her. You had carefully brought it up in passing as you closed her curtains before bed, but she had only huffed noncommittally and said that it did not matter.
Jungkook wasn't of much help either. In fact the hands he keeps on your hips were working you in the opposite direction. His breath is hot against your shoulder when he hums, "She'll like whatever you get her." The response does little to aid you on your quest to find his daughter a suitable gift
Arms folded in determination, you stare at the flames that engulfed one another, wishing they could just magically provide you with an answer. "But I don't know what to get her," Frustration seeps into voice, brows pulling together as you heave a breath.
The caress of his fingers where they slip under the hem of your shirt makes your thoughts instantly derail and you suppress a shudder. "Seriously, you're not exactly helping me out here," You mutter, trying not to think about just how close he was standing, the fact that you could feel the steady rise and fall of is chest against your back. "What are you getting her?"
Behind you, Jungkook inhales, nose skimming along the lines of your shoulder. "Haven't thought about that yet," He admits, palms splaying across your waist. "My daughter isn't exactly on my mind right now." His lips brush against the collar of your shirt — dangerously close to the exposed skin of your neck.
While you and Jungkook both danced around one another with the children present, tip toeing like you were walking on fragile eggshells — he was much different the second the door closed behind you and the prying, curious eyes of Rayne and Cassian were nowhere to be seen.
It had flustered you the first time. You had been washing up after dinner after putting the kids to bed, lost in your own thoughts, you hadn't heard him descend the stairs — leaving his study behind in favor of seeking you out.
Jungkook's hand had found your elbow, the touch feather light and yet it had still startled you into dropping the glass you were washing. He'd chuckled, like the reaction endeared him, perhaps even amused him.
He never explained his actions and you never questioned them. Perhaps because there was no need to. You both knew that what you were doing was selfish. Yet you cannot will yourself to push him away, not as you stand in by the warm fireplace, his lips brushing the edge of your jaw tenderly.
Jungkook doesn't kiss you, he hasn't since that day — not properly at least. The soft pecks to your lips made butterflies swarm your stomach, as did the ones to your cheeks, temple and neck — sometimes they would be enough.
His words echo in your ears when his hands dare their way entirely under your shirt, palms hot against your naked waist. "Well she should be," Your voice cracks on the last syllable, slicing through the intimate moment like a knife and crushing it under its sharp blade.
Finally, Jungkook pulls his face from where it had been buried in the crook of your neck. His touch disappears from your skin as he withdraws his hands, though he does not let go of you, fingers hooking around the belt loops of your jeans when you reach into them to pull out the folded paper.
His chin is a solid weight against your shoulder and you can feel his gaze where it follows the movement of your fingers, unwrapping the poster for him to see.
The same purple hues look much different in the warm glow of the fire, as do the silhouette of the girl in the center. You can feel his deep intake of breath as he undoubtedly reads the bold 'Daddy-Daughter Dance' for himself.
At the very bottom the accompanying date you had previously missed sits: 17th December. Only eight days from now.
"Rayne doesn't want to go." You say, thumb tracing the edge poster's edge slowly. Not needing to crane your neck and look at him, you could easily picture the furrow of his brows.
Jungkook remains silent for a long moment, exhaling a hot puff of air against the side of your face. "So?" His fingers flex against the hem of your jeans, "She won't have to go if she does not want to." He sounds awfully casual about his response and for some reason it makes you frown.
Turning around to face him causes Jungkook to straighten up, his hands returning to your hip. "That's not it—" You begin but cut yourself short to chew on your bottom lip before you let it go again, "I think she would like it. If she gave it a chance I mean."
There's a tension to his features that makes you almost uneasy. He has yet to speak, thumbs rubbing absent circles into your hip through the cotton of your shirt as he considers his response.
"Dancing?" He asks, cocking a single brow as he lets his gaze drop to the forgotten poster in your hands. His tongue prods against the inside of his cheek, the crease on his forehead deepening a fraction. "At their school I presume?" The implication he never voices is clear — teachers, parents, the committee hosting the entire thing. All the people he did his best to avoid.
You can see the hesitation that dances across his eyes, the tight line of his jaw and the fact that his soothing touch to your waist had seized.
For a brief moment you think he might actually kill the idea all together. Rayne had already made her disinterest clear and Jungkook did not seem too fond of it either. That left… You.
Swallowing down another plea for him to reconsider, you keep quiet where you stand. The poster crinkles as your grip hardens, the sound ripping through the silence, accompanied only by the erratic beating of your heart as it thunders against your chest.
Jungkook sighs, his shoulders slumping just enough to let you know that he was caving. He nods then, "I'll talk to her about it."
It wasn't an explicit yes, nor did it sound like he was overly thrilled by the ordeal. But it was something, and that something made your chest warm in a way the fire behind had been unable to.
Wordlessly tugging you closer, Jungkook leans in just enough to let his lips hover above yours. Your breath becomes caught in your throat, eyes fluttering in anticipation for a kiss you know will not come — not in the way you want for it to.
The peck is quick, a brief touch that is gone all too soon. He directs another on to your cheek and there he lingers a little longer. But when he pulls back, which he inevitably would, you find yourself chasing a moment that was never there to begin with.
Uncertainty drains from you the second your lips press against his, harder than he would ever let himself touch you. It catches him off guard, you can tell by the way he remains frozen against you for an agonizingly long three seconds. But when your fingers curl his tie and give the fabric a soft tug he breaks.
Jungkook kisses you back the way you had longed for him to since that afternoon in his kitchen. His tongue is almost shy when it meets yours, the caress gentle and familiar in a way that is so him.
His hands are heavy on your hips, fingers flexing like he was torn between pulling you closer or further away. In the end your chest ends up pressed against his and had you not been so lost on how he feels, you could have probably made out the thump of his heart.
When you part to draw in more air, he lets his forehead connect to yours. His eyes are half lidded something neither of you will name, you're sure yours look the same.
"Dangerous," He whispers when he lifts a hand to have the back of it stroke your cheek. You lean in to the touch, savoring it before it disappears. Despite his statement, Jungkook does not let you go — perhaps he wishes to live in this reality for just a little longer too.
The mall was as crowded as you would expect for it to be on a Friday afternoon. Crying children who didn't get what they wanted and stressed out parents helplessly tugging them along as they sent by standers apologetic glances. You had to swerve your way through the masses of people, politely cutting past an elder couple as you made your way further inside.
Christmas pop-ups were plastered in each display window, blinking lights and carols sparking through on the speakers. Radiant pops of red and green adorned the railings running around the upper floor — a large tree placed in the middle of the mall, nearly reaching the glass ceiling.
You had already ventured inside two toy stores, weighing plushies of all sizes in your hands before putting them all back with a shake of your head. For all the shelves you'd scanned from top to bottom there hadn't been a single toy that screamed 'Rayne' and so your search continued as you wandered along the big shopping center.
Perhaps you had been a little too lost in thought. It was easy to just be pulled along, not watching your step — or who was walking in front of you for that matter. But the tall man in a suit suddenly swerving past you sure made you come to an abrupt halt.
He brushes in front of you with little mind as to where he was going, seemingly uncaring for whoever he took down in his way. You had been fortunate enough to just barely steer out of his way, only the next person wasn't.
The sound of the tall stranger's muttered curse is surprisingly loud against the ambience of the mall. You watch as he knocks an elder lady over, the shopping bag in her hands falling to the floor and the items scattering between their joint bodies. The man pays the unfortunate interaction little mind, flicking an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve before continuing as though nothing had happened.
You have half a mind to chase after him, demand he apologize for his ignorance and lend a helping hand. But your thoughts short circuit when your eyes meet a pair of familiar ones. You should've recognized the mess of grey hair, thrown into a bun, or perhaps the soft crinkle around the lips that stretched into a sheepish smile — but standing in front of her, it all becomes clear.
"Mabel."
Exhaling her name, you take a step forward to close the distance between you. "Are you okay?" Glancing between her somewhat disheartened expression and what you presumed to be presents, scattered across the floor — you quickly gauged that she wasn't.
"Oh hi, dear." Comes the old woman's voice. Despite the unpleasant collision with the most arrogant man, she still greets you warmly.
You fall to your knees without hesitation, already reaching for the bag he'd knocked from her hands, ignoring her ushered objections as you help her gather the gifts she had been so close to losing. "It's okay, let me do it." You tell her with a small smile, not wanting her to exert herself over something that you could easily handle in her stead. Mabel lets you with obvious reluctance, wrinkled fingers curling around one another as she allows you to assist her.
It doesn't take you long to have the various items stored back in their designated bag and when you rise to your feet, you hand it to her gently.
Mabel sends you a grateful look when she takes it from you, clutching it tightly to prevent a possible repeat. "Thank you, dear." She says, and you can tell by the warmth in her voice that she means it. Her gaze meets yours, and it is then she seems to realize that it was you she was standing before.
"My, what a coincidence it is to run into you here of all places." She says, studying you closely, almost like one would a loved one they hadn't seen in a while. "Are you out Christmas shopping as well?"
You hesitate, tongue tracing the roof of your mouth before nodding, "Yeah, something like that." Chuckling awkwardly when her attention drops to your very much empty hands, evidence of your lack of success thus far, you lift one to rub at the back of your neck, "Didn't realize this place was going to be so crowded."
Mabel opens her mouth as if to say something else, though never gets the chance to as a man suddenly steps up beside her. He's tall, surprisingly so, easily towering over the old lady next to him as his shadow engulfs her whole.
"There you are," He says in a voice smooth as silk that still does little to hide his worry. "I thought I told you to wait for me by the escalators," The man gently chides when taking the bag you had just helped Mabel re-pack into his already crowded arms.
He has yet to notice you, his attention fixed on arranging the various shopping bags and you seize the opportunity to study him a little closer. His hair is neatly combed, the ends bleached into something lighter that reaches just above his ears. The beige trench coat and black dress pants however, hint at something more refined, contradicting his relaxed expression.
"No mind are the escalators," Mabel says as she waves a dismissing hand in their direction, "You should have seen the insolent young man that just ran past us — nearly knocked me over!" She lets out an exasperated huff and the man beside her listens with a growing look of concern.
You could easily make out the clench of his jaw when he shakes his head. "Mother, this is why I don't want you going off alone — God knows what could've happened." Despite his scolding there was a strong undercurrent of love and affection in the way he spoke, and you suddenly felt as though you were intruding on what was supposedly a private moment.
But then Mabel turns back to you, waving enthusiastically your way. "Oh— Please," She says with a beaming smile, "The sweet young lady from the laundromat was here to help me out a second time. Can you believe it? She does have a way of finding me whenever I am in need."
The man finally lets his gaze be torn from the old lady and over to you, a flicker of surprise strikes his expression, like he was just realizing that you were standing there — though he's quick to school himself back into something more neutral. "Ah," He says, a smile tugging at his lips, drawing all the way up to his eyes — and it is then you notice how warm they are, almost reminding you of melted chocolate. it
Your name falls from his tongue like he had known it all his life, and suddenly it is you who is surprised. The man sets the bags down, extending a hand toward you, "My mother has told me all about the lovely lady helping her out in my absence." He takes your hand in his own, giving it a firm but almost grateful shake.
"I'm Namjoon."
He introduces himself in a carefree manner, head tilting slightly to the side as he regards you up and down. The name fits him, the perfect son who was away on a business trip not too long ago. Mabel had went on a tangent about him, even now, her eyes were sparkling like Christmas lights as she beholds the sight of you and her son.
"It's nice to finally get a face to the name I've been hearing so much about," Namjoon says with a lopsided grin. You nod slowly, feeling oddly warm under his unwavering gaze and naturally charming presence. The fact that he had yet to let go of your hand certainly wasn't helping either and you wondered if he could feel how clammy your palm was getting.
The moment is broken when Mabel suddenly speaks up, "Isn't she a sweet lady?" She doesn't attempt to hide the praise as it falls from her lips. "I'll count myself lucky to have ran into you twice, dear. Now stuff like that only happens when the stars and the moon align in a certain—"
"Mother, let's not harass her with your superstitions like this." Namjoon quickly hushes his old mother with a hand on her shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. "Forgive her," He says when turning his attention back toward you, "She's been forever grateful for your help last time," He nods toward the bags beside him, "And I suppose I owe you double now."
There's lightheartedness to the way he speaks, the words finding him easily and it was hard not to get pulled along by them. Nodding slowly, you send him a quiet smile, "It is no mind."
"No mind?" Mabel exclaims, suddenly butting in as she takes a small step forward. "Dear, we have yet to have you over for dinner! I must find a way to repay your kindness."
"Oh— You that is so sweet of you but I don't need—"
"We would love to have you over for dinner," It is Namjoon's voice that cuts you off mid sentence. He's wearing a friendly expression, his gaze certain and almost hopeful as he awaits your verdict, "If you would like to, of course."
Feeling both flattered and somewhat put on the spot by the sudden invitation, you chuckle awkwardly. "Well I…" Hand rubbing idly at your arm, you bring yourself to shyly tilt your head, "Yeah, I would really like that."
Mabel beams warmly at that, clinging to her son's arm as she hums excitedly. Namjoon, too, seems relieved at your answer. He flashes you an even wider smile, enough to show off the white teeth hiding behind his lips. "We'll make sure to work something out then," He says.
You bid farewell of both Mabel and Namjoon shortly after — watching as they disappear in the crowd of people, with the former leaning down to listen to whatever his mother had to say. They were sweet, oddly so, and the thought of sharing a meal with them started to sound more and more like a pleasant experience.
When they're completely out of sight you return to what you had come here for in the first place — a birthday present for Rayne. When passing a bookstore you slow down, for a moment you consider stepping inside and scanning the shelves for something she might want to read.
But before you can, your gaze gets caught on something entirely different, a pop of color in your peripheral vision. Feet leading you in the direction of the sparkly purple that had stolen your attention, you come to a halt in front of the display window.
The kid's mannequin is a lot smaller than the ones you would usually see — but the dress it wears is no less extravagant. A soft lilac piece, adorned with lace frills and a shimmering chest piece — it looks straight out of a fairytale.
You study the garment for a while, trying to picture Rayne in the dress, and with a final nod you make up your mind.
── [ ✉️ ] I don't think anyone guessed on Namjoon? That's fun! Like I said, this chapter was more of a lead-up to a lot of things that are going to unfold later on, please stay tuned for it. I love you ladies lots <3
𓄲 His next exhale puffs down the side of your neck, his voice closer than it had been since he'd left the bed. "I don't regret what happened," He murmurs, palms splaying over your waist as he toys with the hem of your shirt absently. "I hope you don't either," His lips brush the line of your jaw in a silent caress.
전정국 x f!reader ˖ ࣪ ꉂ🗯˙ ‹— cw dilf!jungkook single dad jungkook nanny!reader 1980s au slowburn fluff angst (eventual) explicit content age gap (jungkook is 30, reader is 20) oc!cassian/oc!rayne (jk's children) suggestive (?) a few kisses, for good measure
⧽ word count ⋮ 6.3k
average reading time ⋮ 35 minutes
── [ ✉️ ] So, I don't know how much I like my writing in this one. I also skimmed it so if it sounds cringe (?) and you find words such as 'though' rather than 'touch' that is because Ellipsus refuses to tell me when my sentences don't make sense.. Uh yeah. Hm, very much Jungkook & OC in this one, and by that I mean only them. But the children will return next week, I miss them <3 Feedback in the comments/reblogs and asks are much appreciated <3
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chapter 16 — "tainted skin"
"What about this one?"
The pad of your finger brushes along the soft swirl of a rose. The red ink has since long sunk into his skin, its once bright hue now a muted memory. You regard the individual petals, hoping for them to magically unravel and tell you a secret or two about the man beneath you.
Sprawled comfortably on top of his chest, you had spent the past ten minutes tracing each illustration adorning Jungkook's arm. There were more than you could count, some blending with one another — others appearing to have been colored over a past one, possibly covering for a mistake he never intended to make.
Jungkook hums out a quiet breath where he lays against the pillows. After providing you with water and cleaning you off with a damp towel, he'd returned to bed, unbothered by how quickly you had crawled on top of him to study the tattoos that wrapped around his forearm and bicep.
Your persistent questions never seemed to bore him, which only made you want to ask more. Right now he's following your line of sight, gaze lingering on the faded rose you were caressing. "That one?" He huffs, "Got it in 76' at some rundown studio after a night out."
His hand, resting firmly on your naked hip, squeezes you gently. "Thought it was edgy I suppose," He trails off before continuing in a low rasp, "Or perhaps I entertained the idea that mother would scold me less if she found out it was a rose rather than a skull."
You crack a smile at that, tilting your head enough to squint at him through the warm hues of orange. "She didn't like you getting tattoos?"
Jungkook's brows furrow, jaw tightening before he relaxes it again. "She still doesn't," He affirms with a quiet grunt. The muscle under your fingers tenses when he flexes his arm, pulling your attention from his face and back to the designs painting his skin. "Though she came to accept them," He shrugs, feigning indifference, but you saw the way his eyes lingered on the red petals.
For a moment you choose to listen to the steady breaths he draws, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath you — it reminds you of a sleeping cat. The smell of sex still clings to the warm afternoon air, but neither you nor Jungkook had brought up what happened yet. You find that you don't want to, not right now at least.
Your palm flattens out against his arm, sliding across his bicep slowly before reaching his shoulder. "Would you ever get another one?" The question is a whisper on your lips and you keep your gaze on the tips of your fingers where they caress the ink bleeding onto his chest.
Jungkook inhales a deep, slow breath, his torso expanding beneath you until he lets it go again. The remnants of his exhale flutters across the lower half of your face. "I don't know," He says, the corner of his mouth tugging into a frown, "Maybe…"
He flexes the inked hand resting on the mattress. "I would like the children's names I think." After a short pause he adds, "Though I don't exactly have much space left."
You hum, letting your featherlight touch move over his naked chest, all the way along his collarbone before dipping down to rest above the thumping of his heart. "What about here?" You write out both of their names with the help of your index finger, spelling them across his chest clumsily, "I think your mom would approve of that one."
When nothing but stillness follows the proposal you glance up to find Jungkook watching you through half-lidded eyes. He wears a serene expression, something so unfamiliar to see on his otherwise tense face. It's a nice change, you think.
The hand he keeps on your hip brushes along your waist in a wordless agreement and he hums. His touch moves to your back, trailing up your spine before sliding back down again. He repeats the motion a handful of times, the slowly setting sun outside painting your naked bodies.
Another minute passes where you're content to just watch one another. Your fingers busy themselves by drawing lazy patterns across his chest. Slowly they creep up the line of his throat, past his Adam's apple until they find the sharp edge of his jaw. The skin there is rougher and you let the pad of your thumb drag across the faint stubble.
"Do you think you'd grow it out?"
Jungkook's eyes, which had fallen shut during your ministrations, cracked open enough to peer at you. He cocks a brow, gaze following the path your fingers take. A soft breath escapes him, "No."
"No?" You press, tapping his chin thoughtfully, "Why not? I think it looks sexy."
At that he averts his gaze, clearing his throat softly before shaking his head slowly. "No," He echoes, hand returning to your hip, "It makes me look old."
"I would argue that you are old," You hum, unable to keep from teasing him, if only a little.
He doesn't verbally respond to that, instead giving your waist a firm squeeze as he settles back against the pillows. He lets you continue to run your fingers across his jaw, not stopping you when you reach the soft flesh of his bottom lip.
You had always found Jungkook to be quite handsome. But when studying him up close like this you realized that he was downright gorgeous, it was almost unfair. Without the crease between his brows or the tension to his face — he looked angelic.
Your index finger slides along his lip, pausing when the faint scar just below it catches your eye. "What's that?" You murmur, stroking across the tiny, almost invisible discoloration on his skin, so small you could have easily missed it, had you not been paying attention.
Jungkook exhales, tongue prodding at the tissue from inside his mouth, almost absently. "I used to have a piercing there, a long time ago." He explains it like it was the most casual thing in the world, clearly oblivious to the gawking look you send him.
"Seriously?" You lean forward, already inspecting the faint scar closely.
"Mhm," He tilts his head back to give you a clearer view, "A ring."
"And it didn't hurt?" The questions were pouring out of you in an endless stream as you peek at the tiny hole. It was the faintest hue of pink that marred him, appearing to have been healed since long.
"No," He murmurs silently, lifting one hand to push his dark hair from his forehead. You follow the movement, frowning softly when he cocks a brow. "Used to have one here as well," Jungkook explains and it is when he points to the arch of his eyebrow that you see a similar scar seared into the skin there.
You're reaching out to touch before you can stop yourself, thumb pressing against the mark like it could somehow show you a locked memory. "Woah," Exhaling softly, you try to picture him with glinting silver adorning his face, briefly wondering what it would feel like to kiss his lips and feel the metal there.
"What kind of guy did you use to be, huh?" You drawl when leaning back to prop your chin on folded arms. As much as you were just trying to poke harmless fun at him, you could not deny the curiosity swirling deep within your chest. Sometimes Jungkook spoke as though he had lived a whole other life before this — in a way, you suppose he had.
But he only scoffs, dark eyes flickering over to a spot on the wall. The tension seeps back into his shoulders, jaw clenching in tune with the crease pulling across his forehead. "Not someone I'm proud of," He simply says, and judging by the tone he used, it was obvious you wouldn't get more than that.
Still, you prod, head tilting to the side as a lazy smile tugs at your lips. "Why, it can't be that bad?" It was hard to picture Jungkook as anything but the man you had gotten to know during the past month and a half. You imagine him in a tattoo shop, loud music blaring from the speakers as he lets someone paint his arm. What would he wear? Was his hair longer?
Jungkook doesn't give you any intel, nor does he respond to your previous inquiry. His hand caresses your hip one final time, the other coming up to rest against your cheek. "I'll make us something to eat," He murmurs, lips brushing your forehead softly as he presses a chaste kiss to the spot.
The mattress shifts under his weight, rising slightly when he gets up, leaving you stranded on the bed as you awkwardly push yourself to sit straighter. "I trust you'll find your way to the bathroom if you want to shower." He says when pulling on his boxers and dress pants.
Once he's clothed from the waist down he pauses, dark gaze finding yours. His expression is impossible to read, like it so often was. Just as you think he's about to leave without another word Jungkook surprises you by instead taking a step in your direction.
He crosses the distance separating you in two quick strides, leaning down enough for his nose to brush yours. Breath hitching in your throat, you let your eyes flutter when he leans in close enough for your lips to touch.
The kiss is slow, the absence of both tongue and teeth making it feel almost tender. Your fingers curl around the sheets you sit on and you lean in to the warmth of him.
When he pulls back it's with reluctance, the pad of his thumb lingering on your chin a moment longer. "I'll leave you to it," He says, hand sliding down your arm before he detaches himself from you completely. The bedroom door is left ajar after his departure and you listen to the sound of his retreating footsteps.
The shower should have helped.
Hot water cascading down your naked body, steam curling around you in a protective embrace — just you and the thoughts you couldn't keep at bay. They were loud in Jungkook's absence.
Being wrapped in his arms for nearly an hour had made you forget about what the two of you had actually done. The line you had crossed which you would never be able to come back from.
When you close your eyes and step under the stream you can still see the look on his face. The need written onto his every feature, the natural flush creeping down his neck and the way his hair clung to his sweaty forehead. Through the sound of water splashing against the tiled floor you could hear the echoes of his voice, the low groans which had reverberated against your skin — so close.
With a shudder you reach out and twist the shower to an icy cold, attempting to block out the sudden heat blooming deep inside your gut at the vivid image. It doesn't work and you're left a shivering mess before finally giving up and adjusting the temperature to something endurable.
You knew that whatever conversation might await you downstairs would be far from pleasant. So you stay under the water for as long as possible, trying to prolong the inevitable.
Would he tell you that it was all a mistake just like he had the kiss? Your fingers curl around the shower handle, nails digging into the heel of your hand at the thought of another rejection from him — you don't think you could handle it.
Because this time it wasn't only a kiss. It was something much more intimate, you had shared a piece of yourself so vulnerable that you did not know what would become of you if he decided to crush it in his palm.
Letting go of the shower handle to reach for the bottle of soap, the tips of your fingers hesitate just short of it. Everything in here smelled like him. Even the towel which you had grabbed fresh from the linen cabinet had his scent on it. That intoxicating aroma that did nothing but remind you of how it had felt to have his lips on your body, his hands holding you down against the mattress—
Your scrub yourself roughly, attempting to wash the memory away before it ate you alive. Only, all it seemed to do was tangle you further into its web. The soap is laced with everything that reminds you of him — Jungkook is everywhere without ever intending to be. It's frustrating just as much as it is dangerous.
By the looks of it, you would be standing under the water until it turned cold — stuck in an endless loop of trying to bury a memory you did not want to let go of in the first place. At this rate, Jungkook might as well climb the stairs in search of you — and you found that you did not want that. Thus, you cut the stream and step out barefoot onto the bright tiles.
Your clothes don't feel the same on your body when descending down the stairs. From pulling the fabric over your legs and slipping your shirt back in place. The fabric clings too tight, rubbing against your skin uncomfortably with each step you take. Fingers trailing along the banister, you let them tap restlessly onto the wood.
The smell of freshly made food wafts through the air once you reach the bottom of the staircase. It leads you through the hallway and into the kitchen, feet carrying you without thought.
By the time you reach the archway your heart is pounding in your ears, your breath coming in short, jagged pants. Wiping your clammy hands against your thighs, you force yourself to cross the threshold — you were going to have to face this moment sooner or later, better to get it over with right away.
Jungkook's naked back is what greets you first. He stands by the stove, seemingly unaware of your presence for the time being. It was reassuring and you take the moment to study him when approaching the kitchen island. Leaning your elbows on the cool marble, you use the cold to ground yourself as you watch him move about.
His hands are occupied with pushing around the meat sizzling in the pan, the muscle in his forearm stretching when he uses a pair of tongs to turn the beef. It was a domestic sight. For a brief while you could almost imagine this to be your new reality. Coming down to see him like this, hair unkempt and half-dressed, cooking for you.
However that small bubble was quickly burst when Jungkook's voice suddenly breaks the silence. "Was your shower… Alright?" He asks, the question tumbling off his tongue rather awkwardly, almost as though he were making the words up on the spot.
It catches you off guard, if only for a second. Jungkook was not one to insinuate conversation like this. His inquiry felt almost like an afterthought, as though whatever he was currently thinking of had somehow managed to make its way past his lips without him meaning for it to.
When he turns his head to send you a glance over his shoulder, your gazes cross paths — though not for long. Jungkook's eyes dip to the shirt you wear. Your attempts at drying off had been meek, your hands distracted by thoughts of the man before you setting the entire ordeal up for failure from the start. The cotton around you is darkened in places, especially around your neckline where the fabric sticks to you like glue.
"Yeah," Hands fiddling mindlessly with one another, you realize that perhaps you ought to straighten up again. "The shower was alright," You hum as you plaster a faint smile onto your face.
Jungkook doesn't respond more than a slow tilt of his head. His gaze have yet to stray from the glistening skin of your neck and collarbone, eyes trailing along the modest cut of your shirt. You recognize that look as something you had seen not long ago, when he'd let himself get so close. It makes your stomach flutter in ways you shouldn't allow it to, and the beating of your heart only grows louder for each passing moment.
At last, he finally tears himself from your shirt. His eyes shift back to yours, there's something almost bashful swirling within their dark depths — but it is gone just as quickly when Jungkook clears his throat and turns back to the meat cooking on the stove.
You stand by the kitchen island a moment longer, fingers tracing the cool marble with an audible sigh. Then you pad over to where he stands, coming to a halt so close that your elbow might just brush his. And though you never turn to fully look at him, you could still sense the way he tensed beside you before forcing himself to relax.
"Need help with anything?" You ask when peering down at the various side dishes he had prepared to go along with the meat. It all smelled really good and you had to stop your itching fingers from reaching out and trying some of it.
Jungkook cocks a brow when stealing a glance at you from the corner of his eye. "I'm almost done," He replies gruffly, turning the nearly cooked beef in the pan to accentuate the statement.
You huff, resting your hands against the counter top. "So you deem me useless?"
He lets out a low chuckle at that, raw and real — the rare sound so addicting to your ears. His free hand finds your waist, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt absently. The touch is mundane, simple, and somehow it manages to set your skin aflame.
"Won't you let me do this for you?" He questions back, like the thought of you offering to help was somehow a blow to his attempt at cooking you a meal. Yet his tone is playful, perhaps he didn't mind at all.
Deciding to humor him, you nod with an exaggerated groan. "Fine," Gaze flitting over to the kitchen island, you hum, "I'll go set the table then."
You're reluctant to move from your spot, content with having his hand on your hip. Jungkook seems to share that idea for his grip tightens before he loosens it again. He withdraws his fingers a moment later, letting them skim down your thigh before his arm falls back to his side again.
The sound of silverware clinking against porcelain is all that can be heard inside the kitchen. You had sat down by the marble island to eat, the meal shared quietly between you. Your stools are pushed close together, closer than necessary but neither of you pull back when a knee is accidentally bumped against the other.
Jungkook puts additional food onto your plate whenever he sees it running low. Wordlessly placing more rice in front of you, another piece of beef or nudging one of the side dishes in your direction. He doesn't ask before doing so and you don't stop him.
In the beginning you had found his silence unbearable, like this endless void that you had been tasked to fill with mindless conversation. Sometimes you still felt that way — it was impossible not to. But right now, you didn't mind it. Even when he was quiet he spoke to you.
An arm brushing yours, a quick glance your way or the glass of water he slid closer to you. You realized that it was his own way of communicating. And so you never called him out on the small, simple actions.
Instead you use the moment to study him closely. Jungkook was very expressive without meaning to. His brows would furrow as he chewed, sometimes he looked almost frustrated despite clearly enjoying the food, it was quite endearing. He'd lick his top lip between bites, not always, but often enough for you to notice the habit.
His fingers were always busy, whether it was handling his utensils, reaching for his glass or wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin. He sat straight in his chair too, making you subconsciously try to mimic his posture — only to fall back into the hunched position you had been in for the past ten minutes.
Occasionally you would let your gaze dip to his naked chest, roaming the muscle which flexed each time he shifted as much as an inch. Memories of your hands sliding across the same patches of skin come rushing back and you have to shove them down before they got too vivid.
"So…" You clear your throat into your fist after swallowing down the fifth piece of beef he'd piled onto your plate. Ever since the two of you sat down to eat, you had pondered on how to bring up the topic smoothly. Throwing the word 'sex' out in the middle of your meal made you sweat anxiously, almost more than the actual ordeal of doing it had.
In the end you opt for a safer, albeit more vague route. "We should probably… Talk." It wasn't the first time those same words had been uttered today and considering that your last conversation is what landed you here, this one scared you.
Jungkook does not appear as nervous when he takes another bite, slowly placing his fork down on the edge of his plate. He reaches for his glass, taking a long slow sip and you watch intently as his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows.
"We should," He agrees, setting his glass back down before turning in his seat. The new position allows you a clear view of the same tattoos you had spent so much time tracing only an hour ago.
You blink slowly, registering the fact that he was actually taking the bait you'd hesitantly thrown out, something you hadn't expected him to do in the first place — and thus you hadn't planned the conversation further than that.
The version of yourself from earlier this afternoon would have probably spoken her mind by now. She seemed to know what she wanted. Hell, she even voiced her desires out loud.
This version of you is shy.
The heat between you had simmered down into something quieter, a slowly burning candle instead of a roaring fire. Clarity of what happened upstairs sits heavy on your shoulders and it makes you hesitate.
Should you tell him that it was a mistake, even when you did not believe it to be? Would it make you feel at ease to hide behind the idea that this had not been real rather than admitting that it had been everything… Perhaps. Still, you remember the tear Jungkook's words had ripped in your chest when he dismissed your first kiss as nothing but that, a mistake.
You couldn't bring yourself to do it.
Beside you, Jungkook sits quietly. His expression is indifferent when he regards you, dark eyes dragging up and down your frame multiple times without finding rest. You wondered if he really was as unbothered by all of this as he tried to appear?
Both his hands are clasped together over his parted legs — and it is then you notice his fingers. Without the distraction of either the silverware or his glass, they were now tapping rhythmically against one another. You had never seen him do that before, then again, Jungkook rarely took his hands out of his pockets to begin with.
After another tense moment he's the one to finally sigh. "My children," He begins in a low voice, "Their means of well being exceeds anything else."
The crease that forms between his brows becomes prominent under the soft kitchen lights. His naked shoulders were drawn up, the flesh of his cheek caught between his teeth as he chewed on it. "I will not let what happened between you and me affect them."
You nod, gaze dropping to your own hands, currently resting on the marble counter top. "I understand." It would be selfish to think that you could possibly barge in and demand something from him when he already had his arms and heart full.
When you steal a glance at him through your lashes, you find Jungkook watching you with a conflicted look on his face. "Introducing something like this to them—" He shakes his head, running his restless fingers through his hair. "They're not ready for that." There's a short pause where you're almost inclined to believe that he wants to say more.
He never does.
Shifting in your seat, you rub at your wrist — idly fiddling with the beads of the bracelet resting there, the gift from Cassian. You had slipped it back on after your shower, thinking that in some twisted sense, it might protect you. Or maybe it just made you feel closer to the young boy even in his absence.
Jungkook's eyes follows the movement, his brows furrowing even deeper as he studies the handmade bracelet adorning your wrist. He never comments on it but his heavy gaze remains.
Another, 'I understand' sits waiting on your tongue — but did you really? Those were his children, their lives and well being were his responsibility. For all the time you had spent with the two of them, you were still not their parent and you never would be. The weight on his back was not yours to carry, so why did you want to try anyway?
"I love Rayne and Cassian."
Your quiet admission slips out into the warm air and you watch as Jungkook's next exhale catches on his tongue — dark eyes snapping to yours instantly. There's something calculating in the look he sends you, like he was picking you apart with the means of uncovering deceit. He won't find any, you know that he won't for you don't think you'd ever been so certain about anything in your life before.
And it was easy to say. It was easy to say because the children were easy to love. Cassian's warm and giddy laughter, tiny arms wrapping around your middle when he went in for a tight hug. Rayne's quick witted responses that always seemed to have you smiling.
Jungkook nods slowly, his gaze drifting across the room before landing on you. He doesn't say anything, but the edges around his sharp eyes have softened into something gentle.
The silence however, was starting to get to you. The need for reassurance wells up inside your chest like a beast provoked. "It's okay, you know…" Picking at your nails restlessly, you avoid looking at his face, "I mean we didn't—"
"We had sex."
His voice is chilling, barely above a murmur. It was the first time any of you had brought it up, the first time you had actually put a label to what happened. It feels scary because now you don't know what comes next.
Jungkook inhales a deep breath, and though you were no longer meeting his gaze, you knew that his hadn't strayed. "It— It cannot change things, not around the children." There's finality in the way he says it, the same tone he uses whenever he drew a line — he would not discuss this further.
The sigh that leaves your lips brings your shoulder with it, your chest deflating like a sad balloon. Even so, there's a strange sense of understanding. You knew just as well as he did that it would be selfish to push the boundaries he'd set. To not think of the children who you loved so dearly.
"I want the best for them as well." For some reason that hurts to say, even when you know that you mean it. Burying this moment of shared intimacy as far back in your mind as possible was the reasonable thing to do, and you would, as long as it meant protecting the fragile peace you had found with his kids.
Silence holds you still for a long while after that. There's still food left but neither of you reach for it. You don't think you could stomach another bite. Jungkook isn't looking at you anymore — that was the worst part, you think. The muscles in his jaw are clenched tight, preventing him from saying things he shouldn't.
You stand then, grabbing both plates before rounding the kitchen island. The porcelain is smooth, it could have easily slipped from your loose grasp, had you not been paying attention when placing them down in the sink.
The tips of your fingers were just shy of brushing the handle to turn the faucet on when a dark shadow appears behind you.
Jungkook's hands are warm and solid as they settle on your hips. The touch is familiar, comfortable even — for a second you almost lean into it, just barely catching yourself in time to feel his naked chest brush against your backside.
His next exhale puffs down the side of your neck, his voice closer than it had been since he'd left the bed. "I don't regret what happened," He murmurs, palms splaying over your waist as he toys with the hem of your shirt absently. "I hope you don't either," His lips brush the line of your jaw in a silent caress.
Abandoning the idea of washing the dishes entirely, you allow him to guide you to face him, your lower back pressing against the hard edge of the sink. His eyes are half lidded, laced with the means of his admission.
"I don't regret it," You whisper, sucking in a sharp breath when his nose bumps against yours.
He doesn't respond with actual words, but the soft press of his mouth to yours was enough to convey what was on his mind.
This kiss would be the first you shared since the ones passed between you in bed and Jungkook was just as gentle as he had been all day — only this time there was an undercurrent of something else. His tongue finds yours, hesitant in the beginning, as though he was trying to prove himself through the simple action alone.
His hands tighten around your hips, holding you in place as he crowds you to the sink. It was contradicting every word that had been uttered since you sat down to eat, where both of you know that you should pull back yet neither of you can bring yourself to do just that.
You would allow yourself to have this, just this one kiss.
Jungkook parts from you a moment later, reluctantly placing a last peck to your lips before resting his forehead against yours. You couldn't make out his expression from this close, left to feel only his warm breath on your face.
"Let me get dressed," He says when lifting a hand to cradle your cheek, thumb dragging across the skin there tenderly, "I'd like to drive you home, if you'll allow me."
The leather seats of Jungkook's car were a warm contrast to the cold November air when you climbed into the passenger seat half an hour later. By now the sun had fully disappeared behind the horizon, leaving the yellow flicker of the street lights to lead the way.
Jungkook hadn't said much since heading back upstairs to get dressed and comb his hair back. His clothes were now neatly in place, though he had skipped the coat entirely for the sake of the comfortable temperature inside the vehicle. He looks much different from the man you had seen today and there's familiarity in the composed way he holds himself now.
You study the length of his forearm when he pulls out of the driveway, gaze trailing along the tattoos reaching all the way past his knuckles and onto his fingers where they slide across the wheel.
A few minutes pass in silence. The streets are nearly vacant despite it being no later than six thirty and you drive past house after house. Jungkook doesn't need to ask your address anymore, knowing where to take a left without you having to point it out.
It's not until you come to a stop by a red light that he finally speaks. "Principles of Internal Medicine?" His voice is gruff from disuse, inked hand wrapped around the clutch as he sends you a questioning look through the corner of his eye.
It takes you a moment to realize that he was referring to the book he had found — the one that had played such a big part in the events leading you here. You clear your throat, nodding awkwardly as you force yourself to study the blaring red above, wishing it would turn green. "Yeah…" You murmur, "It's study material."
Part of you wonders if bringing the topic up would somehow undo the progress you had made earlier this afternoon. Perhaps he would realize just how grave a mistake this had all been when reminded of the lie you had told him. But Jungkook simply hums, the sound low and almost comforting.
"Med school?" He asks when putting the car in motion as the light shifts.
Nodding, you turn to gaze out through the window, watching the houses disappear one by one as they became replaced with tall apartment complexes. "I'm in my first year," You say, shrugging like it was no matter, when in reality, it couldn't be further from it.
Jungkook makes a right turn, shifting the car's gear when falling smoothly into the new lane. "That's good," He muses, sending you a glance through the corner of his eye, "Do you like it?"
You pause at that, pursing your lips as you thought of how to answer him. In the end you realized that you were tired of lying. "I do. It's my biggest dream." You shyly admit, picking at the seams of your pants gingerly.
In the driver's seat Jungkook is quiet for a while, his attention is fixed on the changing scenery in front of him. When you stop by another red light he sighs, "It's nice, having a dream you can chase, it gives you purpose."
Nails dragging along the fabric clinging to your legs, you frown — not quite sure what to make of that. Jungkook doesn't seem intent on explaining himself further, his focus was on the road, fingers drumming softly against the wheel.
"Did you go to university?" You then ask, turning your head to look at him properly.
The lines on his face hardened slightly at your question, the corner of his mouth tugging downward just enough for it to be noticeable under the street lights that reflected through the windows. "No," He simply says, stepping on the gas lightly when the sign ahead flickers to green.
That surprises you. Jungkook took his own children's education very seriously, you had always imagined him to be at the top of his classes. But he hadn't gone to university at all…? Despite curiosity clawing at you impatiently, you don't continue to prod, choosing to leave the subject alone as the familiar neighborhood you called home floats into vision.
The car comes to a stop just outside the entrance leading you inside. You weren't entirely sure that one was even allowed to park here, but before you can voice your concern, the door to the driver's side shuts and Jungkook is gone.
He rounds the car in a few strides, opening your own door for you, which felt almost a little cheesy — though you don't comment on it when accepting his extended hand and climbing out.
You stand there for a moment, watching a few by-passers who paid you little mind. Jungkook has yet to let go of your hand, you don't acknowledge it. His palm his the warmth that the cold evening lacks and you want to hold on to it, just a little longer.
"I would follow you to the door but…" He jerks his chin in the direction of his car, "I'm not so sure I'm allowed to park here."
The giggle bubbling from your chest is enough to have a nearby lady walking her dog pause, but neither of you spare her a glance. Jungkook's gaze lingers on yours as he watches the grin you're unable to keep from your face. His lip twitches into something that could've almost been mistaken for a small smile, had you not known better.
"I'm sure I'll make it from here," You assure him, eyes dropping to the way his thumb stroked your knuckles.
Jungkook nods slowly, still holding onto you when he should've let go already. The crease between his brows had eased up and under the gentle glow of the street lights he looks younger — reminiscent of a time you had never experienced with him.
He sighs, nodding to himself as he lets his hand drop. "Goodnight then," He says, and for a second you could've sworn he wanted to close the distance again.
Your laughter has ebbed out into a small smile. You didn't want the night to end, it feels like it had barely started before getting robbed from your grasp again. Yet you take a small step back, sending him a timid wave, "Goodnight."
Turning to walk inside, you try to ignore the weight of his gaze on your back when you fumble with your keys, unlocking the heavy door that would take you into the large building.
With your fingers wrapped around the handle, you dare steal a final glance over your shoulder.
Jungkook is leaned against the side of his car, arms folded across his chest where he regards you from across the pavement. It was impossible to make out his expression from this far away — but you would like to imagine that he was smiling too.
── [ ✉️ ] If you caught a spelling mistake actually let me know, like, but in private so to not ruin my sexy mysterious and prolific image of course... Yes, please share your thoughts with me, I love to read them <3
pt. 3 in his car - read pt. 2 here - series masterlist here
pairing: executive chef!yoongi x f!cook!reader
genre: pwp, age gap
rating: explicit content, MDNI!!!!!!!
summary: you've gotten into... somewhat of a routine with chef min, and he's been a good distraction from your ex who won't leave you alone. which leads you both to getting to know each other.
warnings/tags: mc's ex is a piece of shit bc he's trying to take her dog, discussions of harassment and a restraining order, marijuana use, hotboxing, shotgunning, car sex in a parking lot, unprotected sex while high, mc takes birth control, she gets nakey in the backseat of his car, chef min doesn’t 😔, pussy slapping, spitting, oral (m. receiving), accidental facial, cum eating, he's still mean to her but not as mean as he was in the last chapter lolol, mc addresses the panty thievery, he pretends he has no idea what she's talking about (perv), we learn some lore about the two of them
wc: 11.2k
notes: i'm sorry this took a while to get out but i hope it's worth the wait!! i need to give a humongous shoutout to @syllviere for helping me figure stuff out when i got stuck like i was about to put this on a hold bc i couldn't get things flowing but k helped me out so much!! thank youuuuu!!! and an endless thank you to aqua @glossdebut, pj @imamasterbbywithurbra, and cherish @97luvz for beta reading!! one of these days im gonna finish the chapter before asking yall to beta lol. i love and appreciate yall so much!!
divider: @/pixopix
You: Jimin for the thousandth time!! I did not fuck my ex!!!!
Hubby: I really hope not
Over the past few weeks, you’ve been trying to convince Jimin that you were not off screwing your ex after the staff party. He’s been bringing it up in random, casual ways, seeing if he can catch you off guard and in a lie, to which you adamantly insist that you were really at home sick. He still doesn’t fully accept that, but you can’t be too annoyed because you’re the reason why he’s having a hard time believing you (and not just because of the fact that you're still lying).
Less than a year ago, you and your ex had a less than amicable break up. Too many fights about how much and how late you worked, and how hard it was for his eyes not to wander because you weren’t at home enough. And he always laughed any time you brought up your idea to open up your own restaurant with Jimin. Unfortunately his dick game, paired with the fact that you’d been together for five years, had you pathetically crawling back to get railed. But then he started taking that as you wanting to get back together, which had you reflecting seriously on your life decisions and realizing that amazing sex with him wasn’t worth the fights and hurt feelings.
But you give an inch, and he takes a mile.
Now he’s been calling you from a different number, hounding you about working out some sort of “co-parenting” agreement for Mang. You know he doesn’t actually want to take part in her care, he just wants an excuse to stay in touch with you.
You haven’t told Jimin. You love your best friend and how he doesn’t play about you, but he almost went to jail the last time he stood up to your ex, and you’re not about to be the one to call Ty and tell him to bail out his hot-headed boyfriend because of your stupid drama.
Sneaking into Chef Min’s office on the nights that he works has been a wonderful distraction.
When you clock out, you pretend to head home, going so far as to get in your car, drive out of the parking lot, and once you see Jimin turn down the road towards his exit, circle back to the restaurant. You let yourself in through the back, wander past Chef Min’s office, and give some lame excuse like oh, you forgot your badge or left your sweater. He calls bull, beckons you in, and after you hand him a condom from your purse, takes you right up against the door, or bends you over his desk again.
He fucks you from behind, so you rarely look each other in the eye, never kissing or making a single sound, other than breathless utterances of ‘tight’ and ‘big’ and ‘harder’ and ‘close’. But when he does make you face him, it’s to watch you struggle to stay silent as you come around his cock pistoning into you fast and hard and so, so good. His hand holds the base of your throat and you wish he would go a little higher and squeeze.
Occasionally, he spreads your legs on his desk and goes down on you, taking his time like he has nowhere else to be. But he never lets you get on your knees for him. Which, you can’t lie, leaves you extremely disappointed.
You always walk out barely able to see straight, on jelly legs with a dumbass grin on your face, but accompanied by a tiny ache in your chest because he always dismisses you soon after he discards the condom. He leaves little room for small talk - no ‘how’ve you been’ or ‘do you have any plans for your day off’ and - that’s probably smart. For the better. It’s one thing fucking your boss on the regular, but attempting to have a more… emotional connection? Feels somehow more unprofessional. Because just getting fucked is cut and dry. Bringing feelings into the mix will make things complicated.
But then he disappears for weeks on end on business trips, leaving you lonely and insatiable because you have to fuck yourself with a dildo that doesn’t compare to his size, doesn’t stretch you like he does, fill you up, fuck you hard enough that when you come, you blackout for a few minutes. And goddamn, if that doesn’t make you miss him. His dick. You miss his dick. You miss him fucking you. Right.
Because you definitely don’t miss the way he commands the kitchen as soon as he walks in, carrying himself with practiced expertise, not arrogance. How he has no problem getting his hands dirty, his chef’s coat stained on a nightly basis - jumping on the line if a cook is out, filling in for the dishwashers when they go on break, carrying in boxes of late-night deliveries and stocking up the shelves.
He doesn’t really talk and definitely never jokes around with everyone like Sous Chefs Kim and Jung do, but he supports wherever it’s needed, and always backs up the waitstaff. He may be strict and harsh at times (especially when he catches someone slacking), won’t let anything be out of place or done wrong without him noticing, but he keeps things running smoothly, efficiently, and more than that, he’s passionate in everything he does, every way he moves, and it’s something you deeply admire. And his passion is hot. Which is why you risked your job to put it to the test.
And look where it got you. Definitely not missing your boss on the daily. Missing him fucking you. To reiterate.
To help take your mind off him and prove to Jimin that you’re completely over your ex, you go out to the club with him and Ty. But you’re sure it’s not a coincidence when his vanilla friend is there, a little over excited to meet you, and Jimin and Ty disappear not soon after.
Despite the fact that you wanted to just get absolutely trashed with your best friend, you have been saying you would meet up with this guy so you give him a chance. He talks about himself a bit too much, interrupts you a few too many times, but otherwise he’s nice - smiles and nods while you tell him about work, holds open doors for you, pays for your drinks and food. It’s enough to agree to go back to his place.
But as you predicted, he leaves you more sexually frustrated than you were before you fell into his bed. He doesn’t pay attention to what you like, doesn’t even bother to ask, and when you ask him to fuck you harder, he just picks up the pace, telling you he’s chasing only his high. You fake an orgasm so he’ll get off you, and then angrily stare up at the ceiling while he falls asleep. At the break of dawn, you sneak out and send him a text that he’s a great guy but you’re sorry things aren’t going to work out. Then you block him and message Jimin that he can take a break from matchmaking.
You still haven’t told him about your ex, not even when you had to take a few days off to drive Mang up to your mom’s because he’s started to call you from different numbers and offer threaten to come over and take your dog off your hands. Over your dead body.
You pick up extra day shifts at work to make up for your missed time and so you’re not spending as much time alone at home now that Mang is on a temporary vacation. A particularly grueling night of customers testing your love and passion for cooking by requesting nitpicky substitutions, sending the servers back to ask stupid fucking questions like everything isn’t right there on the menu, and making dumbass complaints nearly sends you over the edge.
One customer almost makes you crash out, and if you go home questioning yourself, you might not sleep. It’s probably not a smart idea to stay after since you have to catch the bus and it only runs so late, because it’s not in your budget this week to call a cab. But you have no means or ingredients to experiment at home. So at the end of the night, you catch Sous Chef Jung before you get started on cleanup.
“Chef, can I stay late? I want to practice a recipe.”
“Sure,” he smiles warmly, a contrasting disposition to the other sous chefs and managers. And a particular boss. “Just remember to record the ingredients you use.”
“I will.”
“Oh, and the boss will be in later, so don’t worry about locking up.”
That erases all the exhaustion in your bones, pumping you so full of adrenaline that you’re able to get through your tasks in record time. Okay, but that’s not the reason you’re staying. You need to focus.
You’re on your second experimentation when the back door squeaks open, and Chef Min’s low voice carries over the threshold as he steps in, phone pressed to his ear. You carry on as if he’s not 15 feet away, as if your heart isn’t threatening to explode because he’s finally fucking here after the longest month of your life.
He’s traded his chef’s coat for a long-sleeved, plaid shirt, and his uniform pants for loose, black joggers. How he manages to look sexy in plaid.
You keep your breathing level as he approaches your station, stopping just at the corner.
“What did you do?” You almost lose grip on the spoon as he addresses you.
“Nothing, chef.”
“Then why are you here so late?”
“I’m practicing a recipe.”
“Why?”
“This dou- uh, I mean, guest sent his galbi back three times because apparently the marinade wasn’t ‘seasoned properly,’” you say in a slightly mocking tone. “And then he wanted it comped. So, I’m trying to figure out what the fuck he was talking about. I make it this way all the time, and I’ve never had any complaints.”
“Sometimes there are guests who just get off on bitching.” You pause for a second.
“I thought that they’re always right.”
“We only have to say that to their face. But they’re not.”
That makes you feel validated in so many ways. For the majority of your culinary career, you’ve been taught that the needs and expectations of customers are the top priority, and all cooks and servers have to bend to their will. So to be at a high-end restaurant like Montana 28 where the executive chef says that’s not the case?
“Make the whole dish and bring it to me when you’re done.”
Oh. Wait. Is he serious? He’s really gonna try it? When it’s this late?
“Can I make two?” you blurt, probably not a good idea. “I know it’ll come out of my check.”
He nods, then turns his attention to his phone, texting as he exits the kitchen and heads towards his office.
You put his dish together as if you were sending it out, maybe arranging the meat, pouring the sauce and adding the garnishes in a more perfected fashion since there’s not the usual rush. You just toss yours in the bowl, not caring that it’s a jumbled mess. On a serving platter, you place the bowls, two pairs of chopsticks, and a small stack of paper napkins, and it occurs to you that you have no idea what he’d like to have to drink, outside of alcohol. Not that you have the hands to carry more shit anyway (you were never a good server). But you find yourself wanting to know.
His office door is ajar, so you call out for his permission to enter, butterflies whirring in your stomach as he mumbles “Come in,” and use your shoulder to push open the door, heart skipping at this all too familiar setting - him doing paperwork at his desk, glancing up at you and gesturing for you to shut the door. Except this time, you’re not going to be bent over his desk and fucked dumb. You’re gonna use it to share a meal. Why that makes you nervous… Who knows.
As you step forward with the tray, he clears away the papers to give you room to set down his bowl, and you quietly take a seat across from him, refraining from retrieving your chopsticks when he leans forward to take a glimpse of your bowl.
“How come yours looks different?”
You internally recoil, feeling as if you’re failing a test for not equally presenting both dishes to your executive chef. Even if the look won’t change the taste. But you know it makes a difference to him.
“I didn’t want to take up too much time,” you reason honestly, and he looks at you for a second before picking up a piece of the short ribs.
You watch as he inspects the meat for the sear and color, and you’re incredibly nervous for some reason because this isn’t the first time he’s tasted your food. He wasn’t here for the latest menu change (something the sous chefs joined forces to create) and the last time he critiqued your food, he didn’t have anything nice to say. So, you brace yourself as he takes a bite, focusing on his micro expressions you've dutifully studied for any signs of displeasure. But there are none.
“Yeah, that guy was just being an ass.”
“Really? There’s nothing wrong with it?”
He shakes his head. “It’s exactly what it’s supposed to be.”
You feel lighter, more relaxed than you’ve been in weeks now that you have his assurance. Validation. And sitting here, across from him, sharing a meal, a conversation feels… normal. Which is odd for the two of you. Just because it’s unfamiliar territory - spending time together not in each other’s pants. It’s nice. You want more of it.
Resting the chopsticks on the rim of the bowl, he sits back and wipes the corner of his mouth with a folded napkin, then crosses his arms. “Why do you doubt yourself?”
You freeze, grip on your chopsticks tightening. “I don’t.”
“You’re wasting your own money and time remaking a dish you know is good just because one person complained.”
“I wanted to make sure I didn’t mess up.”
“You have to accept that not everyone’s gonna like what you make. Doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with what you’re doing.”
“What if you don’t like what I make?”
His opinion is really the only one you should value. He leans forward, elbows on the desk, and sticks the chopsticks back in his bowl. His eyes flicker to yours, a small smirk on his lips.
“That’s where constructive criticism comes in.”
You smile, pretending your heart isn’t going into overdrive because he’s looking at you with something other than passive boredom.
The rest of the meal is shared in silence. Comfortable silence. At one point, his phone buzzes, and as he picks it up, you take a quick bite, getting ready to leave so you can give him privacy, but he just declines the call and leaves it face down on his desk. Your chest warms. You always appreciate a person who values no phone time while eating with someone.
“Well, hurry and clean up,” he says once you’re done. “I’m locking up in 30.” He sets the bowls back on the tray and picks up his phone, firing off texts as you stand.
“Yes, chef,” you say, smiling, and he looks up and rolls his eyes when you give a mock salute.
You finish cleaning in 20, giving you enough time to change out of your uniform into leggings and a hoodie, and maybe you quickly spritz on some perfume you keep in your bag for situations like this. Just in case. He’s standing by the back door when you emerge, glued to his phone, but glances up as you approach him.
“Ready?” You nod and he pops open the door, gesturing for you to go first. Cool air smelling of impending rain fills up your lungs as you step out, the light, chilly wind making you pull up your hood. You look around and the only car in the small, dimly lit parking lot is a sleek, dark green Palisade. Chef Min drives an expensive SUV. You go a little weak in the knees.
“Is your car out front?” he asks, and you turn to him locking the door and tugging at the handle a few times before pocketing his keys.
“In the shop. I’m taking the bus.”
“The bus,” he repeats flatly. You shrug.
“I can’t exactly walk home. And cabs are expensive this time of night.”
He huffs, takes out his phone, and you start to panic when you think he’s going out of his way and calling you a ride. Before you can protest, he holds it out to you, opened to the maps app.
“Put in your address.” What?
“Chef, you don’t-” You stop when he turns his back on you and rounds his car for the driver’s side, robbing you of the opportunity to argue. Your hands holding his phone quiver because is he really about to give you a ride home? His door shuts as you stare at the screen, the map prompting you to enter an address, and for a few seconds, you forget where you live.
“Are you coming?” he calls from inside, the passenger’s side window rolled down. Your feet hesitate to move as you continue to stare at his phone, unable to help your shock that he indirectly offered you a ride. Chef Min offered you a ride. He barely tolerates you calling him by his first name while he’s fucking you but he’s letting you get in his car?
“I don’t have all night,” he says, boredom back in his tone, and it interrupts your stupid spiral, compelling you to finally reach for the unlocked handle. You slide onto the soft, beige leather, nervously glancing over as he starts up the engine, so quiet you almost don’t hear it rumble to life.
“Um, thanks. You really don’t-”
“Did you type it in?” he asks, focusing on the navigation screen, missing your nod. He clicks to the GPS and the bluetooth has worked surprisingly fast because your address is already there.
You wordlessly pass back his phone and he drops it in a lit up cup holder. The interior smells of fresh citrus, and is immaculate - you can’t spot a single speck of dirt or piece of trash and wonder if he just bought this car. Like today.
After you buckle up, he puts the car in reverse and your breath seizes when he puts his hand with a silver Rolex around his wrist on the side of your head rest, looking over his shoulder to back out of the parking spot. He has the rearview camera right in front of him but, okay. If he’s trying to give you a heart attack, it’s fucking working.
You take out your phone before you go into cardiac arrest, only to find it dead. Damn, you wanted to check in with your mom about Mang, see the daily picture and update.
“Do you have a charger?”
“Glove compartment.”
You reach forward and crack it open but all you see is a manual, stack of folded papers, and pack of wipes.
“Nope, not in here.”
“Wait, don’t-” he says as you go for the console, and his hand tries to stop you from snapping it open but it’s too late. You spot a carton of cigarettes, and next to it, a little bag of green bud.
“Oooh, I didn’t know Chef Min was a stoner!”
He sighs and rakes a hand through his hair, stressed. You grin. Now who’s busted?
“I won’t tell,” you assure. Not that he should be worried - you’re not a snitch. And telling people that your boss is a pothead would mean admitting how you know that in the first place.
“Better not,” he mutters, shaking his head. You can’t tell if he’s truly annoyed.
“But can we smoke?”
“You blackmailing me?”
“No,” you answer immediately, hoping he doesn’t really think that of you. But then you catch his cocked brow and slight uptick on his lips and - oh, maybe he's just joking around with you.
The light turns green and he drives into the intersection, finger tapping on the steering wheel a few times before clicking on his left turn signal to make a u-turn, against the GPS directions.
“Where are we going?”
“Parking lot.”
Oh. So you’re really doing this. It’s been a minute since you’ve gotten high. You recreationally smoked in college, but sometimes it really helped get the creative juices flowing when you got stuck on projects for your culinary classes. The last time was with Jimin, even though Ty advised him against it because he always gets super paranoid. And sure enough, Jimin wound up on the floor, curled up in Ty’s lap, covering his ears and staring at nothing as you munched on snacks and giggled that he looked like a cute little chick. You hope you won’t be too giggly and talkative while you smoke up with your boss. You’re gonna be cool.
It starts to rain as he drives to a more secluded area downtown, and eventually pulls into an empty, barely lit parking lot next to several basketball courts.
“Is this your spot?”
“Used to be.” He parks facing away from the courts that look old, run down. Weeds growing up the fence, grass not tended to, trees in the woods nearby encroaching on the field to take back their home. You wonder if he ever played basketball, or if he just hung around to smoke.
“Let’s sit in the back,” he says, switching off the engine. “The windows aren’t tinted up here.”
The rain is coming down hard as he steps out, and once he shuts the door, you consider taking the impulsive and idiotic liberty of crawling over the console and into the back because you’re not about to get wet, especially when you just got these white shoes. But you already know he would not appreciate that so you rush out, and you’re met with the back door on your side already open. Nearly launching into the seat across from him, you shut yourself in, and take in the sight of him laying down the rolling papers, baggie, and lighter on the console that separates your seats.
You ogle his nimble fingers as they sprinkle the ground up leaves into the crisp paper, packing it full and rolling it tight. Your thighs squeeze together when he brings it up to his mouth to run the edge along his tongue, sealing it shut. Clearly he’s very experienced and that makes this whole ordeal increasingly attractive.
After rolling a second joint and clearing the console to get it out of the way, he sticks the second joint in his pants pocket and pulls a lighter out. Settling a roll between his lips, he flicks the spark wheel of the lighter and a small flame appears that he cups before he ignites the end of the joint, dropping the lighter once it’s ablaze. You stare, mouth watering, as his lips pull in to take a long drag, holding it in his chest for several seconds then slowly blowing it out. Pungent, skunky smell overcoming your senses, you feel heady just watching him smoke, him relaxing, legs spreading wide as the haze clouds up the back of the car, and he takes another pull before passing the smoldering paper across the console. Your fingertips brush and tingle as you accept it, and when you place it between your lips, you definitely don’t think about how this counts as an indirect kiss.
Girl, get it the hell together.
You fundamentally fail at that when you take a hit of the joint like it’s a cigarette, inhaling too quickly and igniting a burn in the back of your throat. You cough like an amateur and a low chuckle floats over to your side as you try not to die.
“Been a while, huh?”
“Shut up,” you say hoarsely.
He smirks and leans towards the front seats, and you watch with tears in your eyes as he pulls open a small door at the bottom of the console and retrieves a mini bottle of water.
“Trade.” He beckons for the joint and you thank him as you take the bottle - the cold bottle of water. He really has a fucking fridge in his car.
The water soothes your throat as you take slow sips, watching the sexy as fuck way he smokes beside you. It’s quiet between you, save for the rain pattering on the roof, like you’re sitting in a damn ASMR video, and you think of asking about the basketball courts to fill the silence but he speaks first.
“Heard you were out last week.” He doesn’t look at you as he passes the joint.
You automatically nod. Of course word would reach him. “I was visiting my mom. She lives a few hours out of town.”
You pause to inhale a puff, letting it slowly fill your lungs before exhaling. Shit, just one hit and you’re already feeling the effects.
“My ex, he, uh,” you swallow, finding it strange that you’re opening up to him about this. A cynical receptor in your mind whispers to you that he probably doesn’t care. But he didn’t have to bring up that you missed work for a week. So you indulge him. “He’s been trying to take my dog so my mom offered to look after her while I get things sorted out since he doesn’t know where she lives.”
“Getting a restraining order?”
“Trying to, but it’s kinda hard since he’s not like, y’know, stalking me or anything.”
His eyebrows slightly furrow. “But he’s harassing you.”
“Yeah, well,” you sigh, hitting the joint again. “Apparently he’s not doing enough to warrant a restraining order.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“I know. I’d rather him just stick to calling me from a new number once in a while.”
“He sounds like a loser.”
“That’s why I broke up with him.”
The conversation lulls and you’re glad because talking about your ex makes you nauseous. You pass back the joint and rest your head back, closing your eyes. This is some really fucking good weed. You’ve only taken a couple hits, but already you’re slipping into another plane of existence, making you feel like you could become one with this unbelievably comfortable leather. You haven’t felt this relaxed in… well, since the last time you smoked. That’s a fucking lie. Since the last time he fucked you.
Your head lifts with the sudden urge to bring up something you’ve never had the chance to.
“Can I ask you something?” He nods.
“Do you know what happened to my thong?”
His fingers holding the joint pause on the way to his lips and it takes him a second to respond.
“What thong?” Oh, so he’s playing this game. You scoot a little closer to the center, pulling a knee up and turning your body to face him.
“The one I had on before you fucked my brains out at the staff party.”
He huffs out a quick puff, right leg starting to bounce. “I don’t know.”
“Well, I don’t think it just grew legs and walked out.”
He shrugs. “Sounds like you lost it.” It’s cute, how he’s trying to gaslight you about your panties that he definitely stole.
“More like you took it.”
He shakes his head, jaw clenching so hard, the bone ticks a few times and you take it as confirmation of your accusation.
“Did you take my panties, chef? For a little keepsake?”
“Why the fuck would I do that?” he spits. You grin.
“You tell me.”
He doesn’t. Just sucks in a drag and gives you the joint to shut you up. But it won’t work.
“I’m not necessarily asking for it back. I just want to know where it is.”
He crosses his arms, eyes downcast, smoke filtering out of his nostrils. “Couldn’t tell you.”
“I’m not judging. I think it’s hot that you stole it.”
He’s still refusing to look at you so your hand drops to his knee. “You wanna see what I have on now?”
He cocks an eyebrow at you before taking the joint, grabbing your wrist and yanking you down. Your hands hit leather and you gasp when he slaps your ass so you lurch forward on your elbows, pelvis pressing on his thighs. You sink into his lap as his fingers dip under the hem of your leggings, tugging the fabric down until your cheeks are bare.
“Tease,” he grumbles, finding you sans panties.
Before you can open your mouth to call him a ‘panty thief,’ he smacks your ass again, leaving a harsher sting, and strewn across his lap like this, you feel like you’re getting a spanking. The harsher sting radiates across your entire body, igniting a fire in your core, and your toes curl in your shoes resting on the door handle, and you press your face into the cushion to keep yourself from moaning. Wait. You’re not in his office anymore.
“Do I still have to be quiet, chef?”
“Don’t be a smartass.” You honestly aren’t trying to be. He rucks your leggings down to your knees and you bite down on your tongue when his palm presses flat on your mound, just feeling your wet heat. Your eyes roll as his fingers start to work in slow, circled movements around your clit, massaging your pussy in a pleasurable but not overly stimulating way. It’s lulling you into an incredibly relaxed state, and paired with your buzz, takes all tension out of your muscles, bones, and soul. You could fall asleep like this.
Inhaling a deep breath of skunk and traces of his cologne, you close your eyes and rest your head on your crossed arms, just enjoying the sensation of his fingers switching up lazy motions on your clit, sliding between your folds, pressing against your hole to gradually build up your arousal. And despite the embers stirring in your belly, you start to drift off - until the rumble of his voice, low and sluggish, runs up your spine and snaps your eyes open.
“Here.” Your eyes feel heavy as you look over your shoulder to him holding out the joint for your turn. As you accept it and place it between your lips, a firm tap is delivered to your bundle of nerves, catching you off guard and causing you to cough out smoke.
“Fuck!” You exclaim before you can stop yourself as he does it again, harder - warm, electric fingers placing the perfect amount of pressure on your clit, other free hand groping your ass, and it feels soooo much better than the first time he slapped your pussy in his office.
You breathe in another hit as two fingers slip between your folds and curve into your hole, smoke trapping a moan in your throat as he begins fucking against your tight, silky walls. The sensation is overwhelming because he wastes no time prodding right against your sensitive spot, other free hand continuing to rub lazy circles on your clit and you can’t even make yourself feel this way, much less the last dude you-
“I hooked up with someone,” you blurt. Of all the fucking times to bring that up- His fingers still inside you, and your arousal gradually fizzles.
“Oh?”
You nod, eyes squeezing shut with regret, and he just hums, sounding disinterested. Your tongue keeps moving even though a part of your brain screams for you to shut the fuck up.
“You’ve just been gone for so long and-“
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he interrupts, fingers slipping out. You clench around nothing, increasingly regretting opening your stupid mouth. “You can do whatever you want.”
You wilt under his plain tone. Even though he’s right. Just because you’ve been fucking whenever he’s in town, you don’t owe each other anything. But maybe it’s good to share that you've had other experiences. For safety reasons. And not just to find out if he’s slept with other people.
“Did you hook up with someone?”
“Couple times.” Your stomach twists and sinks. A couple times? Twice with one person or once with two people? Whatever. Either way, it’s cool. You’re so fucking cool with that!!
“Did you… think about me?” you mistakenly wonder aloud on an exhale of herb. You’re letting way too many inside thoughts be outside thoughts. You’re gonna get yourself in trouble.
“Should I have?” Your eyes narrow in a glare you wish you could sear through him. You hate this entire fucking conversation.
“No. I wasn’t thinking about you either,” you sniff, lying through your teeth.
“Yeah, you were.” Why does he sound like he’s mocking you.
“Whatever. Don’t know why I thought you’d give a fuck.” You suck in a quick drag and hold the joint over your shoulder, embarrassment compelling you to start pulling up your pants so you can escape your new personal hell. But he smacks your hands away and presses firmly down on your back.
“How was it?” he asks, smoke blowing across your skin. So he’s curious? You’re not gonna be delusional and take that as jealousy.
“He was gentle. And nice to me.”
“That bad, huh?” Your eyes roll, finger flicking the seat like it did something to you, annoyed that he fucking knows.
“Was whoever you fucked any good?”
“She didn’t piss me off.”
“So, that’s a no,” you shoot off with a slight sneer. But okay, a singular she. Is it better or worse that he slept with one person more than once? You guess you can’t really have a say. You’re gonna pick the stitching out of the leather if you don’t chill out.
Things go quiet, save for the pitter patter of rain above you, echoing so loud you feel as if it’s raining in your head. The air around you is dense and misty, window above you fogged up, but you can still count the droplets racing down the glass.
“Did he make you come?” his voice cracks the quietude after a few minutes (hours?), reawakening your insides with tender fingers circling your clit. Your hips wiggle, heat building up from the pressure on your nerves. Does he really have to ask that fucking question?
“Mm.”
“Mm?” he parrots, delving between your folds.
“What do you fuckin’ think?” you grumble, back involuntarily arching to buck against his fingers.
“Poor thing.”
Before you can retort with something smart, his fingers slip back into your cunt and curl, coaxing you into a mind numbing lull as he fucks against your spot. Fingertips of his other hand pressing and tapping and rubbing against your clit, you flutter and pulse around him as he drags you further into pleasure. Slick sounds of your arousal paired with your strung out moans fill the interior the more he draws you to your peak, and you feel so disjointed as the coil in your belly tightens. Forehead pressed to leather, you whimper that you’re about to come and his fingers wrench out and you see stars when he smacks your pussy one, two, three times to cannon you into oblivion. It takes you a long time to come down, body trembling almost uncontrollably, but his hands trailing across your ass and the backs of your thighs sooth the buzz.
“You got anything?” he asks a bit after you return to earth.
“Hm? What?” Your head spins as you lift up, stinging eyes blinking rapidly to dispel the blur. Aftershocks of pleasure ripple down your spine.
“A condom.” Your shoulders drop. Fuck, he’s gonna fuck you. You’re still not over what he just did and now he’s gonna give you dick? Wake up!
“Do you, for once?” Because you're exceedingly comfortable where you are and your bag is all the way up front.
“Nah.” Of course not. Even if you wanted to get up to root through it, your mind blanks because you genuinely can’t remember if you have any left in your purse since it’s been a while that you replenished. You've never fucked anyone without protection. Not even your ex. But you’re here now and you’re tired of waiting.
“I’m on the pill.”
“Hm. Gonna take it raw?” Your cunt flutters at the thought of him filling you up with no barrier. You nod.
“You think I should let you?”
“You’ve been gone.”
“So? You went and got laid.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t-”
“Wasn’t what?” You. But you can’t say that. Instead, you reach back to the bulge sitting thick in his joggers.
“This.” The smugness on his face falls as you give him a squeeze, hips shifting and you smile when he twitches under your hand.
Dragging your hand off his crotch, you pull up your leggings before rolling off his lap and lowering to the floor. You tug at his thigh to give you room to stand on your knees between his legs, appreciating the view of him from down here - his thick thighs straining his pants, chest and shoulders broad, jaw chiseled, and sharp, hooded eyes zeroed in on yours. You will yourself to not shy away from his intense stare, daring to hold it as you coast your hands up his thighs, the fabric of his pants soft and mildly distracting.
“What are you doing?” he asks, lifting the joint to take a slow drag.
“Please.”
“You want my dick in your mouth that bad?” Smoke sifts out of his lips, curling up and into his nose before seeping from his mouth.
“Want you to fuck my throat.”
“Shit,” he growls, and aggressively sucks in another hit. You reach for it since he’s been hogging for a while but he snatches his hand away. Just as you prepare to call him out, you’re halted by the way he’s just staring down at you, white wisps floating up from the joint he holds in the air. He stops your heart and short circuits your brain when he grips your chin and leans down, thumb running across your bottom lip.
“Open. Just a bit.” Heart loudly pounding, you oblige and part your mouth as your muscles lock in anticipation because you have no idea what he’s about to do. If he kisses you, you’re a fucking goner. Your eyes widen when he takes a long, deep drag of the joint and then angles his face close to yours. Thighs shaking at the proximity of his lips hovering over yours, you’re slow to realize he’s exhaling smoke into your mouth.
You get lost in the feeling of your hands massaging up and down his thighs while the back of your mind replays the image of his lips being so close to yours. Was he going to kiss you or is he just playing with you maybe he wanted to but then you did move a little so he changed his mind damn it why the fuck did you move he could’ve kissed you and you made him think you didn’t-
“You don’t have to.”
“Huh?”
“You’re hesitating.”
“I’m not. Your pants just feel good.”
He snorts, and you realize how dumb that sounded and break out into a fit of giggles, forgetting your pitiful mental torment.
“I’m serious though,” he says when you catch your breath and collect yourself. “You don’t have to.”
Your eyes drift back down to the tent in his pants, lust replacing all other thoughts, and you sit up a little straighter as you run your hands up his thighs and to his lap, staring at his focused expression as you cup and squeeze him again. His Adam’s apple bobs and you hold in a moan when he bucks up into your hand.
“I want to, chef. Let me.”
Joint nearing its end on his lips, he nods and lets you be the one to pull down his pants and boxers to his ankles, and you gulp as his dick, long and thick and hard, keels over on his lower stomach. This is your first time really seeing it and you wish there was better lighting than some dim, flickering streetlamp nearby but maybe it wouldn’t matter because the buzz in your head is clouding your vision. He’s heavy in your hand as you grab him, cunt throbbing at the bead of precum that dribbles out as you start thumbing his tip. When more spills, you catch it on your tongue, moaning at the salty taste. You roll your tongue around his head and he draws in a sharp breath as you suck him in, but you’re finding your mouth to be a little dry, so you pull off.
“I’m thirsty.” He looks to the side where you were first sitting and grabs the half-empty water bottle, uncaps it, and hands it to you. You gulp down the rest and it helps sooth the chafe in your throat but you don’t know how long it’ll last.
“My mouth is still kinda dry,” you slur and pout, losing confidence that you’ll be able to give him good head. Long fingers snatch up your chin and thunder pounds in your ears when his thumb shoves past your teeth and presses down on your tongue, opening your mouth. He leans down again and tips your head so far back that his face is almost directly above yours.
He pulls down on your chin so you open wide, and you shake in anticipation as he works his jaw side to side, subtly purses his lips and then spits. Saliva pools on your tongue and your heart ceases all functions because fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck Chef Min just spit in your fucking mouth. You yell at yourself not to swallow, but you’re in so much shock that you just sit there frozen. Until he grabs his dick, points it towards you, and nods at you to go ahead. You let his spit mixed with yours spill onto his tip, watching with unblinking eyes as he bites his lip while it trickles down his shaft.
The low purr that escapes his chest entices you to take him back into your mouth, and he sounds so fucking hot as you bob your head in a somewhat hurried pace, one hand twisting around his base, the other dipping to his balls.
“Shit,” he growls, and you suddenly realize that he has yet to fucking touch you. You find his hand and press it on top of your head, silent permission for him to grip onto your hair.
Fingers digging into your scalp, he tugs at your roots, and it sparks a flame down your back. Jaw dropping and throat relaxing to accommodate as much of him as you can, you go down as far as you can, forcing his dick deep in your throat, stopping only when there’s resistance. He groans, broken and satisfied in his chest when you swallow around him, and continues to hold you there. Tears streaming down your face, your jaw aches and your throat burns, but you do nothing to get him to let up, even when you start to gag and drool down his length.
“You sound so fucking good choking on my dick,” he drawls. And that’s why you’re gonna hold out for as long as you can. “Tap out if it’s too much.”
You don’t, even though it burns, and tears run down to your chin. You just dig your nails into his skin to fight through it until he finally pulls you off of him, and you gasp, chest heaving, string of saliva and precum connecting your mouth to his dick. His eyes narrow at the sight.
“Fuck it, c’mere.” He yanks you up off the floor by your elbows, and you go so fast that you bump your head on the roof as he positions you to straddle him.
“Ow!” you exclaim, hand flying to your crown as your knees settle beside his hips.
“Sorry,” he says, and you look down to a lopsided smile peering up at you that you shove his shoulder for. He helps you off with your sneakers and leggings, and then kicks off his own, and the sounds of clothes and shoes thumping on the floor just tickles you and giggles pour out of you again.
“What?” He asks as your shoulders start to shake.
You shrug, and he rolls his eyes when you continue to laugh for no reason. He lazily slaps your ass so you lift up and you jolt when he rubs his dick between your folds, tip just barely prodding your entrance.
“Ready?” You breathe out a “Yeah” and he squeezes your hip to encourage you to sink down on him. You take your time to adjust to his girth and the feeling of every vein, every inch of him bare inside you, and - close, you just feel so close to him. Arms wrapped around his neck, breasts pressed to his chest, knees to his hips, almost completely skin to skin, and it’s setting you on fire with a glowing buzz that makes you want to hold him tighter.
Holding onto the back of the seat behind him, you leisurely bounce on your knees, hips circling and swiveling to find your rhythm, and you don’t care how pathetic you sound now that you’re full of him and he’s letting small moans in your ear tell you you’re doing a good job.
You shudder when long fingers slip under your shirt and up to your bra to pull and snap the band against your spine. His nose brushes the underside of your jaw and goosebumps erupt all across your skin as he murmurs, “Okay?” beneath your ear. Head moving slowly, you nod, letting him unclasp your bra, rip down the straps, and snatch it out. He pushes up your shirt and plants both hands on your tits, cock twitching inside you when he squeezes them, nipples hard and perky under his palm. He plays with them while you continue to ride him, going slow because you don’t think you can move any faster without losing control.
He must sense that because his hands drop to your ass, and then props his feet up on the backs of the chairs. His hooded eyes pierce into yours as he fucks up into you, every buck of his hips harsh and rapid and deliberate, melting you to your core. Your head lulls on the side of his, feeling as if he’s taken control of your entire body, wailing in his ear to the staccato rhythm of his thrusts.
“You think anyone else can ruin you like this?” his warm breath cascades across your throat as he slams into you like he’s making a point. You can’t even answer, you’re so focused on the impending wave that he’s catapulting you into.
A few more rough strokes and you come, violently, endlessly, wave after wave crashing into you because he doesn’t slow down, doesn’t stop as your cunt squeezes and pulses his dick and you gush around him. Your slick forehead is plastered to leather as you continue convulsing, fingers digging into his shoulder, moaning out something, you think his name, and then he stops, twitches inside you, and cusses.
He manhandles you off of him and onto the seat. Your back hits the cushion and your little world inside his fogged up car goes by in slow motion as you stare up at him crouching above you, knee wedged between the seat and your hip. Cock hanging low, he tugs your legs up on his shoulders and puts a hand on the top of the backseat, sharp groan escaping his chest as he lines himself up and plunges back into you.
“Gonna come in your mouth,” he rasps, and before you can catch onto what he says, he pounds into you, hips slamming against your ass fast and hard, making your bones ache and tears well in your eyes. You grab onto his wrist to hold on, vision blurred as you reach up, entranced by his chain banging against his chest and the sliver of skin peeking out from the top unbuttoned part of his shirt. You feel the urge to rip it to shreds but you don’t even have enough strength to undo another button. You just let your hand burn on his clavicle as your bodies move in tandem, not caring that your back is chafing on the seat, too distracted by the bead of sweat trailing down the side of his neck.
Your hand trails up to catch it, brushing the side of his throat and in the moment that you glance at him, he slams into you, stays still for a second then yanks himself out, pushing your legs off of his shoulders.
“Sit up.” Your body moves on his command, foot on the floor giving you leverage to push yourself up against the door, eyes focused on his hand tightly gripping his wet cock.
“Tongue out,” he growls, and you open wide but he doesn’t make it there before a string of white shoots across your face, landing on your chin and cheek. His cockhead shoves onto your tongue so cum lands there, and so much slides down to the back of your throat that you have to close your mouth and swallow after a couple of seconds so you don’t choke.
“Fuck,” he snarls aggressively under his breath, tip rubbing in between your lips as more cum pulses out of his slit and trickles down your chin. You stick out your tongue again to swallow down the rest of it, eyes dragging between his face and his hand jerking his dick.
He releases a sharp breath and lets go of his cock, almost touching your stomach as it hangs heavy and low in the air, mouth open as he catches his breath. He then reaches down to push his cum on your face towards your mouth. His thumb dips past your lips, and you suck around it, staring up at him through wet, blurry vision.
“Messy girl,” he mutters, thumb sliding across the other side of your jaw, smearing your saliva through the leftover white and sticking it back in your mouth. You swirl your tongue, savoring the taste of him and the way he’s staring down at you with so much darkness in his eyes, you shiver. He drags it down your teeth, snagging on your bottom lip, and then gives the side of your chin a light tap before shifting away. Your heart skips. You feel like a good girl.
He finds his boxers and joggers before sitting back on the seat and pulling them on. He gathers your bra and clothes and shoes as you steadily sit up, and you both quietly get dressed. As you slip on your leggings, he checks his Rolex.
“Shit, it’s late.” You nod, finish getting dressed, and follow him in getting out of the car to return to the front.
In the driver’s seat, he rubs his hands down his face, fingers digging into his eyes.
“You okay?” you ask as he rakes a hand through his hair and shakes his head a few times.
“I’m high as fuck, I need a minute.”
“Take your time.” He nods and reaches back behind the seats, pulling out two more mini bottles of water and passing one to you. You only take a little sip because you already have to pee, but he finishes his in one go, letting out a satisfied sigh as he crushes the empty bottle. You pull your lips in, fighting off another round of giggles. He’s so fucking cute.
He sticks the plastic in a cupholder and then opens up the console again, retrieving a carton of cigarettes.
“You mind?” he asks, holding up the pack. You shake your head. Now that the rain has reduced to a drizzle, he rolls down his window all the way and lights up a cigarette, blowing the smoke out into the cool air. You pick at your cuticles, buzz in your head still swirling and obscuring your filter and you feel like you’re about to bust if you don’t say something.
“Can I ask you something else?”
“Oh, god,” he mutters. “You have to?” You nod. He just sighs and takes another drag and you take that as your cue to go on.
“Do you have a secret family you sneak off to visit?”
He whips a confused expression your way, sharply blowing out smoke. “I’m sorry, what?”
You shrug. You should’ve asked about the damn basketball courts. Too late to take it back now. “It’s just a rumor that goes around because you’re gone so much.”
“I have other restaurants I own that I need to check up on. And they’re not all local.”
Oh, right. Shit, you feel mildly stupid for leaning into believing baseless rumors instead of remembering that Chef Min has been an extremely successful entrepreneur since his early 20s.
“Is it dumb that I want to open my own restaurant?”
“Dumb?”
“I mean, is it too late?”
“It’s never too late to do anything.”
“Says the dude who opened up his first restaurant at 22.”
“I took over my first restaurant,” he corrects, staring at the cigarette with a slight frown. “After my dad passed away.”
You knew that. Your mind races with all of the countless interviews you’ve watched and read and listened to about his comeuppance. He never seemed to appreciate it when an interviewer brought up the fact that he got his start because his dad died from a heart attack and his mother was too grief stricken to carry on with the business.
You’re pretty sure he doesn’t want to hear an apology, but you don’t want to completely gloss over the fact that he told you that.
“It’s really amazing - what you did to carry on his legacy.” He just nods shortly and takes a long drag, crossing his arm across his chest. You hope that isn’t the worst thing you could say.
“Do you have any advice?” His eyebrows lift as he hits the cigarette again before ashing it out on the cracked window.
“People might not take you seriously, but don’t let that stop you.”
You stick a hand between your thighs, shifting as you’re brought back to the many times the man you thought you would marry ridiculed you for your dreams.
“Yeah. That’s another reason I had to break up with my ex.”
He glances over at you but doesn’t make a comment. Just hits the cigarette again before launching into his wisdom. He tells you to take inspiration from other chefs and kitchens, but define your own identity as a cook and runner of a restaurant. To never lose sight of the importance of detail and control over your goals. And to not let setbacks set you back - allow room for growth at every turn.
“It can take up a lot of your focus, but don’t let it consume you and take over your personal life. I made that mistake.”
“What do you mean?” He pauses mid drag, jaw clenching so much so his bone protrudes.
“It got in the way of my marriage.” Your eyes dart to his ring finger.
“You were married?” He nods.
“A couple years ago.” Holy shit. Career-focused Chef Min, hitched and settled down? You don’t recall him mentioning that in any of his interviews. You’re morbidly curious.
“What happened?”
You regret the question as soon as it echoes in the air. You should take it back because it’s none of your business and you can imagine he’s about to remind you as such, but suddenly, you’re incapable of speaking. Regret morphs into remorse when he maintains the silence, and hopefully he just didn’t hear you toe a line.
“Sorry,” you manage to breathe out, cursing your hazy mind and dry tongue.
“She wanted a family and I didn’t.” Oh.
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” he mutters.
You sit there in frozen silence, unsure of what to say to that very personal piece of information. He breaks it and abruptly shuts down the conversation before you have the chance to gather your thoughts.
“Alright, I have to get back.”
He tosses the cigarette out of the window before rolling it up and starting up the engine. While you buckle up, he switches on the radio, and as smooth jazz lilts into the car above the soft whoosh of the fans, he turns it up and you safely assume that he’s done talking.
The ride to your place takes about 20 minutes. 20 minutes of jazz-filled silence, of his phone buzzing in the cupholder that he never touches or even looks at, of you feeling the best you’ve felt in weeks, and of you wondering what’s going on inside his head. And if that frown on his face is just natural. But what he’s shared with you tonight, is more than you ever thought you’d get. And yet, when he pulls up to your house, you kill your own vibe when a coat of a dull cloud paints your chest. You don’t want this night to end.
“Well, that was good,” you murmur as he puts the car in park. “And nice to do it somewhere other than your office.”
“Mm,” he hums. Crossing his arms. “Don’t get used to it.”
Your smile falls. Don’t get used to it? The essence of vulnerability you both just shared feels… worthless. What was the point? He answered your questions - even though the weed cut down on your filter and made you bold enough to ask them. And maybe the weed is what let him answer instead of dismissing you or straight up ignoring you. But damn. You feel dumb, now that that wall is back up. Anger and a tinge of sadness burrows beneath your skin and now you want to be the one to put a wall up.
“We don’t have to do this anymore.” The words that come out of your mouth slap you in the face. And seemingly him as well.
“What?”
You clench your jaw so tight it hurts. “Whenever you decide you’re done with me, you can just-“ you stop yourself from giving him suggestions on how to cut you off. “It’s whatever, okay? No hard feelings.”
He looks at you for a few seconds then jerks his head up in a subtle nod and you pretend it doesn’t hurt that he says nothing, just stares at the steering wheel.
“Thanks for the ride,” you mutter, and push open the door. You might slam it behind you but you don’t fucking care. If you’re really nothing to him at this point, he can go straight to hell.
The following day, you almost call out of work because you’re still simmering after last night. Not even sleeping helped you get over it. You don’t want to see him and make your inner turmoil worse. But you need the money. And it’d be stupid and pathetic of you to skip out because you’re angry at your boss for something as silly as emotional distance. You just won’t pay him any mind. You know, like he does to you.
But he’s not even there, so it’s a good thing you didn’t sacrifice a check. For the next few days, he doesn’t come at all. Maybe that’s a sign it’s high time you moved on. You can’t be hooked on him forever. And how long can you continue to lie to your best friend without feeling horrible? It’ll eventually eat you up inside, and you don’t want to have to live with that. So maybe this is for the best.
But the night before your weekend off that you plan to get absolutely trashed and smashed, you’re at your locker to change into your uniform where you notice a folded up note on the top shelf.
Stay late tonight.
It’s handwriting you recognize from long to-do lists posted up on the fridges every Tuesday, labels in the stock room, signatures on shipments, and drafts of menus scattered across his desk. Chef Min wants you to stay? If he was gonna fire you, he would’ve done it to your face already. Whatever it is, you don’t have it in you to ignore.
He doesn’t make an appearance at all throughout the shift, and you wonder if maybe that note was from another time and you somehow missed it. But just as the doors close and everyone gets started on their tasks, he pops up to have a brief discussion with Sous Chef Jung. You know you shouldn’t stare, but you’re gonna feel really stupid if you end up at his office when he’s not actually expecting you. Just when you’re about to look away because you’ve been lingering too long to be discreet, his eyes shift to you and he gives you a subtle nod before turning back to his conversation.
You play the whole charade of leaving with Jimin, gossiping on the way to your cars, hanging around a little too long just to catch up even though you’re both exhausted from the night, and driving out of the parking lot behind him, just to turn around once he’s out of sight. After parking around back, your anxious fingers shake as you unlock the back door because what the fuck are you about to walk into? The kitchen is dark, just how you and Jimin left it, but there’s a small shredding of light from the hall leading out towards Chef Min’s office.
His door is wide open when you tentatively peer inside. He’s at his desk, as always, in casual clothing again, just sifting through mountains of paperwork, glasses slid down to the tip of his nose.
“Um, chef?” you meekly call out, heart skidding to a stop when his head whips up to you. You’re too far to tell that the pinch between his brows loosens when his eyes land on you.
“Oh, I thought you left.”
“I had to get something out of my car,” you lie, stepping forward and leaning against the door frame, twiddling thumbs in the pocket of your hoodie.
“It’s fixed?”
“Yeah.”
He nods once and turns his attention back to his papers. Did he forget about the note in your locker?
“Why did you want me to stay late?”
He looks back up at you. “Oh.”
You watch, confused, as he stands and reaches into his pocket. A knot tightens in the pit of your chest when he pulls out your missing thong.
“Here.” Your hands ball into fists. That’s why he left a note in your locker? To return your panties he denied taking? If this is his way of non-verbally ending things… Fuck him. But at least this way you can get the last word.
“I told you I didn’t want it back,” you say in a snippy tone. “Thanks for wasting my time. Have a good night, chef.”
You storm out in a huff, stomping through the dark restaurant towards the front parking lot and just before you can burst into the night, you get a notification on your phone from your doorbell camera app that there’s motion detected. Throat tightening, you freeze when the grainy footage shows your ex standing in front of your apartment. Furious, you curse and hold your phone up to your mouth, pressing the microphone button.
“I know you’re not outside of my fucking house right now,” you hiss.
“It’s been weeks since I’ve heard from you.” God, his voice has never been so grating.
“Yeah, there’s a reason for that!”
“C’mon, you’re not being fair about all this.”
“Fair about what?”
“Mang.”
You bite back a scream. “She’s not your dog! She never was!”
“But I took care of her too.”
“Only when I asked you!” you exclaim. The audacity of this guy! “You know how many times I had to remind you to feed her and take her out? You never remembered on your own. How am I supposed to trust you with her alone?”
“That’s what I want to talk about. Please, just for a few minutes.”
You know he’s fucking lying. If you go home and confront him, he’ll extend his stay by making up excuses to keep the conversation going and you’re not about to put up with it.
“I- I’m not even going to be home tonight.”
“Where are you going? Jimin’s?” Fuck, that’s the only place you have to crash unless you want to trek out all the way to your mom’s. But if you go to Jimin’s, your ex will definitely show up and get into it with him and one or both of them will end up in jail and that can’t happen.
Your phone is snatched from your hand before you can come up with some stupid ass lie to get your ex off your back.
“It’s none of your business where she’s going,” Chef Min snaps, voice above your head, and your shoulders hunch when you realize he’s standing right behind you. You turn, eyes wide, astounded that he’s intervening, and swallow at his pinched brows and deep frown. “Get the fuck off her property, unless you want the cops called.”
“Who the fuck is this?” Your ex yells your name loud enough to make you both wince, and he casually passes back your phone like he didn’t just confront your ex. You glance down to the now muted screen, shutting off your phone when your ex proceeds to yell into the camera and you’re grateful you can’t hear him.
“Um,” you swallow, eyes following Chef Min as he unbolts the locked door. What else can you fucking say?
“It’s late. I’ll walk you to your car.”
He holds open the door for you like he did the other night, and as you start to walk towards your car, you nervously look over your shoulder to him locking up and yanking the handle before he starts following you. You slow down a bit because he did just say he would walk you.
Your car is the only one in the lot, you awkwardly point to it as he stops a few paces away. “You wanna smoke?”
“Sure,” you say without hesitation, throwing all of your self-made terms that you’re done with him right out the window. He stares down at gravel.
“Actually, I um,” he clears his throat. “I don’t have any bud on me.”
“Oh.” You deflate. “That’s okay.”
“But I do at my place.” If you were hooked up to an EKG machine, there would only be a long, flat beep.
“You’re… inviting me over?” Did you hear him right?
He nods, eyes flitting between you and the ground. Okay, what the fuck?
“Sure you’re not just getting tired of fucking me in your office?” You tease, although your heart is now racing at hamster speed.
“Don’t make me regret this,” he sighs. But there’s no real bite to his tone.
“I won’t. I’ll make it worth it, chef.” He jostles his keys. Then glances up at you through his bangs.
“‘Yoongi’ is fine.”
.
.
.
ahhhhasdflksdcjf it's here finally i really hope it was worth the wait!!! thanks for reading!! i hope you enjoyed! pls support with likes, comments, and reblogs!! i'd love to know what you think! i've never written a high scene before and it's been a long time since i've been high lmao so i did some reading and research to help out but idk i still kinda struggled with it. and for yoongi's spiel of advice, i took bits and pieces of gordon ramsay interviews. (sidenote: pls tell me i'm not alone in thinking it's hot that chef min was previously married). and i know him shotgunning her and spitting in her mouth when they haven’t kissed yet is crazy im so sorry😭
“no! that’s not fair.” you say, frowning as you lean forward, clutching your controller like it personally betrayed you. your eyes squeeze shut for a second in frustration as you realise it’s the fourth loss in a row.
jungkook barely even looks sorry.
you’re both sprawled out on your couch, him on your left, way too comfortable for someone who’s currently ruining your winning streak. his controller gets dropped onto the small table in front of you both with a soft clack. he leans back into the couch, stretching his arms above his head, legs spreading out like he owns the place.
that annoyingly satisfied grin stays plastered on his face.
“i am so fucking good,” he says, like it’s a fact of life.
you roll your eyes immediately. “yeah, yeah. relax.”
he lets out a low hum of satisfaction, still smug, still way too proud of himself.
he’s been coming over like this for a few days now. your apartment has slowly started feeling less like just yours. jungkook shows up, brings games, snacks sometimes, takes over your couch like he pays the rent. and somehow, you’ve stopped fully minding it.
it’s weird. but not bad-weird.
you’re actually starting to enjoy it, his presence, his company… not that you’d ever tell him that out loud.
because, he’s infuriating at these games. unfairly good at the ones he brings. probably because plays them way too much.
he's such a fucking sweat.
and tonight, he’s been acting like every win is a personal achievement he needs to celebrate. which is kinda annoying. but you’re not actually mad at him.
you shake your head, dropping your controller onto your lap with a small sigh, shoulders sinking back into the couch.
jungkook glances at you, sitting up properly again, one leg pulling in slightly as he tilts his head. “rematch?”
“no more,” you mumble, stretching your arms up above your head, arching your back a little as you try to ease the stiffness. “my hands hurt.”
he goes quiet for a second.
you catch it though,, the way his eyes flicker over your chest for a moment before he looks away just as quickly, clearing his throat under his breath like nothing happened.
and you notice.
it makes your lips twitch. you slowly lower your arms and turn to face him, a teasing spark in your eyes.
“wait… did i just see the fuckboy look away from a pair of tits?”
jungkook lets out a short breath of a laugh, shaking his head as he leans back again, rubbing the back of his neck. “what are you talking about?”
“you,” you point at him, squinting slightly. “looking away. that was very unlike you.”
he huffs quietly, a small smile tugging at his lips now. “i just want you to be comfortable.”
you blink at that.
it’s so… simple.
there’s no teasing, no cocky tone, no weird comeback. just that.
your expression softens a little before you can stop it, eyes lingering on him for a second longer than usual. “oh.”
you look away first this time, suddenly very aware of how close you’re sitting.
“…well,” you mumble, picking at the edge of your controller, “okay.”
you like it.
. . . ,
you glance at him again, something clicking in your head as your eyes narrow slightly.
“wait,” you mumble, shifting a little as you turn to him. “what day is it?”
jungkook looks at you, confused. “thursday?”
“no i mean, your ‘being normal’ thing,” you say, doing little air quotes. “you used to remind me every two seconds. what day are we on?”
he lets out a quiet laugh, already knowing where this is going, and leans back into the couch. “day twelve, i think? i don’t know. i stopped cuz you said it doesn’t feel real if i’m acting normal instead of actually being normal.”
you pause.
“…i did say that.”
“yeah,” he shrugs. “so, im normal.”
you stare at him for a second, then laugh out loud. “you’re not normal.”
he grins. “i’m way better now.”
“no, you’re not,” you scoff, nudging his arm lightly. “you’re still annoying.”
then, jungkook’s demeanor shifts instantly.
the playful smugness in his eyes turns darker. he leans in closer, one arm stretching along the back of the couch behind you, caging you in without even touching you. his face is suddenly much closer than it was a second ago, voice dropping low and smooth.
“darling,” he murmurs, the nickname rolling off his tongue like velvet, “you say that… but you don’t actually mean it.”
your breath catches.
he’s so close now you can smell his cologne mixed with the faint scent of the strawberry snacks he brought earlier. his gaze drops to your lips for a second before flicking back up to your eyes.
“you keep letting me come over,” he continues, voice quiet and teasing, “you let me sit this close… and you still call me annoying?”
a small smirk tugs at your lips before you can stop it. you don’t know why you’re doing this — maybe it’s because you’re on the last day of your period and your hormones are being little traitors, but you can’t help it.
you tilt your head slightly, looking up at him through your lashes.
“yeah,” you say softly, but there’s no bite in your voice. instead, your hand moves on its own, slowly pressing against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat under your palm. his shirt is soft, his body warm. “because you are.”
jungkook’s eyes darken even more at the touch. he lets out a low, sexy chuckle — the kind that vibrates through his chest and straight into your hand. it’s deep, amused, and way too attractive.
“yeah?” he murmurs, leaning in just a little closer, lips hovering near yours.
“is this normal to you, darling?”
your heart stutters.
what the fuck.
the air between you feels thick. you can feel the heat radiating off him, close enough that it makes your chest tighten. for a second, you’re painfully aware of how easy it would be for him to close the gap. how much you suddenly want him to.
you swallow.
but he doesn’t rush it. he just watches you, eyes half-lidded, steady, like he’s waiting to see what you’ll do.
and when you just stare back at him like an idiot. he leans back, just enough to give you space, but not enough to kill the tension. that same cocky little smirk lingers on his lips, like he knows exactly what he just did.
you stay frozen for a moment, your hand still hovering where his chest was.
you kind of wish he had kissed you just now.
even though you’ve turned him down every time before… but in your defence, that was the old jungkook. the loud, shameless, cocky fuckboy who treated everything like a game.
and this jungkook — the one who shows up every day, who stays for hours, who looks at you like this — feels different.
dangerously different.
you clear your throat, forcing yourself to move, pulling your hand back like nothing happened.
“shut up,” you mutter, trying to sound annoyed, but your voice comes out softer than you meant.
jungkook just chuckles quietly, like he expected that, leaning back into his side of the couch.
“yes ma’am.”
the room falls quiet after that. it’s not awkward, no. it just feel… full.
you’re both still sitting close, shoulders almost brushing, but neither of you look at the other. your gaze drifts somewhere ahead, while jungkook leans back, head tilted slightly like he’s thinking about something.
a few seconds pass.
then he speaks.
“christmas is soon,” he says casually, voice quieter now.
you hum. “yeah.”
“you do anything for it?” he asks, glancing at you briefly.
you shrug. “not really. depends.”
there’s a small pause before you add, almost absentmindedly, “i used to get pumpkin pie though.”
jungkook’s brows knit slightly. “pumpkin pie?”
“yeah,” you nod, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “it was kinda random. but i got it as a gift, like… for christmas. for two years.”
he lets out a quiet huff, confused. “who sends pumpkin pie for christmas?”
you shrug again, a little amused. “kyle did.”
there’s a beat.
“…who’s kyle?” he asks, this time actually looking at you.
you glance at him, then away like it’s nothing.
“oh,” you say simply, “my ex.”
jungkook’s head turns a little more this time, eyebrows lifting in clear surprise. “you had a boyfriend? for two years?”
you let out a small laugh at that, glancing at him. “why do you sound so shocked?”
he blinks, like he didn’t mean to react that way. “i don’t know, i just—” he pauses, then says it anyway, “you actually dated for two whole years?”
you roll your eyes immediately. “yes, i actually dated for two years. what is that tone supposed to mean?”
he huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “i thought you meant like a three month relationship. you know, where you just talk to each other and break up if you piss each other off.”
you narrow your eyes at him, a small smile tugging at your lips, then you ask him, genuinely curious. “jungkook... have you ever been in a real relationship before?”
“nope,” he says simply, leaning back again.
you blink. “never?”
he shrugs, like it’s nothing. “i’m not really a relationship guy.”
you hum, “no wonder,” then you tilt your head as you look at him. “is it because you just wanna fuck? with no strings attached? like a true fuckboy?”
he snorts quietly, not even denying it, just shrugging again. “maybe.”
there’s a small pause before he adds, almost as an afterthought, “i mean, i had a crush once.”
your interest perks up immediately. you turn your body slightly toward him. “oh? on who?”
he chuckles under his breath, like he already knows how it sounds. “it wasn’t anything serious.”
“still,” you press, leaning a little closer. “tell me.”
he exhales, running a hand through his hair as he thinks. “she was my neighbour. and she was older than me.”
you raise a brow. “how much older?”
“i was like… fifteen,” he says, glancing at you briefly. “she was twenty.”
you stare at him. “oh... damn.”
he laughs softly at your reaction. “yeah.”
“continue, continue.” you say, now fully invested.
“she was just… really nice,” he shrugs. “like, she’d talk to me, ask about school, stuff like that. i think i just… took it the wrong way.”
you tilt your head slightly, watching him. “so you had a full crush on her? like, you weren't thinking with your dick, at all !?”
“obviously,” he scoffs lightly. “but it wasn’t like that for her. she never saw me like that. which is a good thing, by the way, i was only fifteen.”
you chuckle,resting your chin lightly on your hand. “that’s kinda cute.”
he rolls his eyes. “it’s really not.”
“it is,” you insist, smiling a little.
he shakes his head, but there’s a faint smile there too. “anyway, one day i found out she had a boyfriend.”
“aw,” you mumble.
“and then she moved away not long after,” he finishes with a small shrug. “so… yeah. that’s my one and only tragic “love” story.”
you let out a soft laugh. “that’s so sad for little jungkookie.”
“it’s not sad,” he mutters, though he’s clearly amused now.
“it kinda is,” you pout dramatically.“you got your heart broken at fifteen. aww, poor little jungkookie wookie.”
“i did not get my heart broken, and don’t call me that.” he scoffs.
“you definitely did,” you tease.
he rolls his eyes. “who’s annoying now?”
you both laugh.
and fall quiet after that, the teasing fading into something softer. the silence isn’t uncomfortable. it actually feels nice. just sitting like this, talking about random things, then not talking at all. like the silence doesn’t need to be filled.
it’s nice.
jungkook exhales quietly, shifting slightly beside you before speaking again.
“so,” he says, glancing at you, “kyle.”
you look at him, then away almost immediately. “what about him?”
he tilts his head, studying your face. “you just dropped ‘my ex’ and moved on.”
you shrug. “there’s not much to say.”
“come onnn,” he nudges lightly. “tell me.”
you shake your head, a small smile forming. “it’s boring and kinda embarrassing.”
“i just told you mine,” he says, raising a brow. “that was kinda embarrassing too.”
you let out a quiet laugh. “true.”
he leans a little closer, nudging you again. “so?”
you hesitate for a second.
then sigh. “fine. but it’s not that interesting.”
he smiles, settling back like he’s ready to listen anyway. “i’ll decide that.”
. . . . ten minutes later . . . .
“nah, what the fuck.”
jungkook stares at you, brows furrowed, like he’s trying to process it properly. then, “why would he cheat on you?”
you blink at that, a small scoff slipping out. “i don’t know, jungkook.”
he doesn’t look away. “no, seriously. why?”
you shrug, keeping your eyes ahead. “people do that.”
there’s a brief pause.
“only stupid people do that, because that’s so fucking stupid,” he shakes his head like he can't believe that you got cheated on.
you glance at him for a second, then look away again, lips pressing together to hide a faint smile.
he leans back slowly, still shaking his head a little, like it genuinely doesn’t make sense to him. “that’s actually crazy.”
you hum quietly. “it is.”
the room settles again after that. he’s quiet for a second, still frowning a little, like he hasn’t fully let it go.
“was he even sorry?” he asks, glancing at you.
you let out a small breath, leaning back into the couch. “he said he was.”
jungkook’s jaw tightens slightly. “and?”
you shrug, eyes fixed ahead. “you know how that goes.”
he exhales through his nose, looking away for a moment before shaking his head. “that’s so—” he stops himself, pressing his lips together.
you glance at him. “what?”
he huffs quietly. “nothing. just… stupid.”
you hum, not really disagreeing.
there’s a pause.
then, softer, he adds, “you deserve better than that, darling.”
your fingers still for a second.
you don’t look at him, just mumble, “i know.” but your voice comes out quieter than you meant.
jungkook glances at you again, like he’s checking if you actually mean it. “do you?” he asks, quieter this time.
you frown slightly, turning your head. “what kind of question is that?”
he shrugs, not looking at you now. “just asking.”
you stare at him for a moment, then look away again, shoulders sinking a little into the couch. “i mean… i do now.”
there’s a small pause.
“back then?” you let out a short breath. “not really.”
he hums, like that makes sense to him.
“i used to think that was just how it worked,” you add, picking at your sleeve again. “like… if you liked someone, you just dealt with whatever came with them.”
jungkook’s brows knit slightly. “even that?”
you shrug. “i didn’t think it was gonna be that,” you mumble. “but… yeah. i let a lot of things slide when i was with kyle.”
he’s quiet for a second.
“that’s not how it’s supposed to be,” he says finally.
you glance at him. “you wouldn’t know, fuckboy.” it comes out more teasing than serious, but there’s a bit of truth sitting under it.
he lets out a small huff. “i don’t have to date to know that’s fucked up.”
you don’t argue with that. instead, you just sink back into the couch, staring ahead. the silence feels a little too heavy now, so you try to lighten the mood with something stupid.
“he was a bad kisser anyway,” you say casually, shrugging one shoulder.
jungkook genuinely chuckles, the sound low and warm. he turns his head to look at you, amusement clear in his eyes.
“what else?” he asks, raising a brow. “did he never please you?”
you let out a small laugh, tilting your head back against the couch. “sometimes… but it wasn’t really that important back then. i was too stressed about other shit.”
jungkook hums, lips curving into a smirk. “ah… no wonder you’re so horny now.”
“hey!” you smack his arm, half laughing, half offended. “i am not horny, you asshole.”
jungkook just grins, wide and smug, clearly pleased with himself. he goes quiet for a second, like he’s thinking, letting the silence stretch just enough to make you glance at him again.
then, in that low, teasing voice, he says:
“darling, do you think i’m a good kisser?”
you roll your eyes immediately, turning your head away from him. “i’m not answering that.”
“come on,” he chuckles, leaning a little closer, “it’s just a question.”
you shake your head, fighting back a smile. “nope. i’m not boosting your already massive ego.”
the second the words leave your mouth, you realize your mistake.
jungkook’s grin turns dangerously smug. “so you do think i’m a good kisser.”
your eyes widen. “no—no! i didn’t say that! what the hell?”
he laughs softly, clearly enjoying every second of your panic. his eyes sparkle with mischief as he watches you backtrack.
you turn to face him fully, cheeks feeling warmer than they should. “stop twisting my words, jungkook!”
he doesn’t stop smiling. instead, he tilts his head, voice dropping even lower, smooth and dangerous.
“maybe i should help you decide.”
the air shifts instantly.
you blink at him, heart skipping a beat. he’s looking at you with that intense, half-lidded stare again — and it makes your stomach flip.
“help me decide?” you repeat, trying to sound sarcastic but failing miserably.
he nods slowly, eyes flicking down to your lips for a second before coming back up.
“yeah,” he murmurs, leaning in just a little.
you let out a soft, nervous chuckle, trying to pull yourself together even as your pulse starts hammering in your ears. you shift slightly on the couch, turning your body more toward him.
“is this normal to you, jungkook?” you ask quietly, voice softer than you intended. there’s no anger in it — just genuine curiosity. you really want to know what’s going through his head right now.
he chuckles too, but it comes out a little breathy, a little strained. then he falls back against the couch, exhaling heavily as he drags a hand through his hair, messing it up even more.
“i was just teasing, darling. i know you don’t wanna—”
“so you don’t wanna kiss me?” the words slip out before you can stop them.
shit.
that was definitely supposed to stay as an inside thought.
jungkook turns his head toward you so fast it catches you off guard. you’re now fully facing him — one leg folded underneath you, the other dangling off the edge of the couch, hands resting nervously in your lap like you’re waiting for a verdict.
he curses under his breath, low and rough. he stares at you for a second, jaw tight, like he’s fighting with himself. “you can’t do that, darling.” he says, voice low and frustrated.
you blink at him. “do what?”
“you can’t tell me to be normal around you… when you’re sitting here looking at me like that.”
you tilt your head, genuinely confused. “…what do you mean, jungkook?”
he stays quiet for a long moment. then he takes a deep, shaky breath, closes his eyes, and lets his head fall back against the couch cushion.
“fuck… i… i can’t be normal around you, ___.”
the confession hangs in the air between you.
you’re surprised — actually surprised. your stomach does a weird little twist. this isn’t the cocky, teasing jungkook you’re used to. this feels… real. and.. raw. like he’s been holding something back for a while.
when he finally opens his eyes again, he looks straight at you. and it’s not the cocky face you’re used to. no. his expression is quieter. softer… and for a second, a little vulnerable.
and you both just stare at each other.
and neither of you speak.
your mind is spinning with too many thoughts at once. but you swallow hard and try to speak, voice barely above a whisper.
“jungkook—”
he cuts you off gently but firmly.
“let me kiss you, ___.”
your eyes widen, breath catching in your throat. “i— what?”
he sits up straighter, turning his body fully toward you now. his expression is serious — almost careful — like he’s choosing every word with precision.
“i know this might sound stupid to you,” he says slowly, voice low and sincere, eyes never leaving yours. “and i know you’ve turned me down before. i get it. but right now… i have no ulterior motives. no games. no trying to fuck you or win some stupid challenge. i’m not trying to prove or fix anything.”
he pauses, swallowing.
“i just… really want to kiss you, ___.”
the words hit you harder than you expected.
you swallow again, throat suddenly dry.
your brain is a complete mess.
because, genuinely, what the fuck is going on?
you can’t do this.
but… you kind of want to.
what if you want more than just a kiss? you’re still on your period — even if it’s the last day, is this really okay?
what if this changes everything?
what if you like it too much?
wait, what?
what are you even thinking about? you've kissed him before. you've both done more than kissing. but holy shit, this feels so... new.
and you notice the way he looks at you, waiting for you, patient and still.
there's no pressure from him. no cocky attitude. he just sits there, looking at you with quiet seriousness, like he would completely understand and back off the second you say no. like he’s ready for rejection but still hoping.
the silence feels endless.
you stare at him — at the way his shoulders are slightly tense, at how still he’s holding himself, at the way his eyes are soft but burning at the same time.
your heart is pounding so loud you’re scared he can hear it. and finally, after what feels like forever, you let out a shaky breath.
“okay.”
jungkook’s eyes widen just a fraction, a hint of genuine surprise flashing across his face.
“okay?” he repeats softly, like he needs to hear it again to believe it.
you nod, heart hammering wildly in your chest. you brace yourself, suddenly hyper-aware of every inch between you.
he doesn’t rush. surprisingly.
jungkook shifts closer slowly, giving you every chance to change your mind. his hand comes up gently, cupping your cheek with surprising tenderness. his thumb brushes lightly over your skin as he leans in, eyes flicking between yours and your lips.
he’s so close now.
you can’t help but notice how attractive he looks like this — hair slightly messy, eyes dark and fixed only on you, lips parted just a little. your gaze drops to his mouth, then back up. you can’t help but notice how soft his lips look, and how his eyes have gone quieter… and softer.
when he finally kisses you, it’s gentle at first — warm, slow, almost careful. his lips moved against yours with quiet intention, like he’s savoring every second. you melt into it almost instantly, eyes fluttering shut as you kiss him back.
your hand slides up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady, fast thump of his heartbeat under your palm. he’s warm.
the kiss deepens gradually — still soft, but hungrier now. his tongue brushes lightly against your bottom lip, asking for permission, and you give it to him. and a small, involuntary sound escapes you when his tongue meets yours.
you’re in fucking heaven.
jungkook makes a low noise in the back of his throat, something between a sigh and a groan, and tilts his head to kiss you deeper. the hand on your cheek slides back to cradle the nape of your neck, pulling you closer as he shifts on the couch.
you both move naturally — bodies adjusting without breaking the kiss. he leans over you more, gently guiding you back until you’re half-lying on the couch with him hovering above you. your legs part slightly to make room for him as he settles between them, still careful not to put all his weight on you.
your hands roam — fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt, brushing against the warm, smooth skin of his waist and lower back. he feels so good under your touch. you can feel his muscles tense and relax as he kisses you.
then he slowly pulls back just enough for both of you to catch your breath, his forehead resting against yours.
your lips tingled, sensitive and slightly swollen. heat bloomed low in your belly, a slick warmth spreading between your legs as your pulse throbbed there, needy and impatient. you couldn’t help but glance down — the clear, rigid outline of his cock strained against his sweatpants, impossible to ignore.
now you’re both breathing heavily.
“fuck…” jungkook whispers, voice rough and happy, a small dazed smile on his lips. “i don’t wanna be greedy… but can we do that again?”
you let out a soft, breathless chuckle, still trying to steady your breathing.
“fuck yeah,” you whisper back, grinning.
and this time, the kiss is more desperate. jungkook’s mouth crashes back onto yours with more urgency, but it still stays soft, deep, wet, and needy. his hands slide down to your waist, gripping you firmly as he presses his body closer. you moan quietly into his mouth when you feel his hardness press against your thigh.
your fingers dig into his back under his shirt, pulling him even closer. he groans softly against your lips when your nails lightly scratch his skin.
“fuck… i love this.” he breathes between kisses, lips moving to the corner of your mouth, then your jaw. “darling,”
you tilt your head back, giving him more access as he kisses down your neck. a small whimper escapes you when he gently sucks on your pulse point.
“jungkook…” you whisper, voice shaky with want.
he comes back to your lips, kissing you slower again, savoring. his tongue slides against yours in lazy, filthy strokes that make your toes curl. one of his hands slips under your shirt, palm warm against your waist, thumb stroking your skin in gentle circles.
you’re both lost in it — soft moans mixing with the wet sounds of kissing, bodies pressing closer on the couch, hands exploring just enough to drive each other crazy without going further.
he pulls back for air again, breathing hard, lips shiny and flushed. his forehead rests against yours as he looks at you with dark, hooded eyes.
“again, please..” he murmurs, voice husky.
you smile, a little dazed, fingers still tracing the skin under his shirt.
“again.” you whisper back, pulling him down for another deep, slow kiss.
. . . ,
you’ve both been making out for what feels like forever now. it’s lazy and deep and addictive, like neither of you wants to be the first one to stop. the couch feels smaller, warmer, the air between you thick with shared breaths and quiet sounds. every time one of you pulls back for air, the other chases again, like you’re both afraid the moment will break if you give it too much space.
but in the little pauses, your mind starts spinning again.
you’re supposed to be friends. you’re supposed to be fake-dating in everyone’s eyes, playing pretend until it makes sense to end it quietly. and now this… this feels like crossing a line you can’t uncross. what happens after this? does everything get messy after tonight? just like it did last time?
and the bigger question sitting heavy in your chest — does this mean you’re agreeing to sleep with him again? you liked it last time, yes, more than you’d ever admit out loud, but is this too much too soon? is this stupid? is this wrong?
your mind is screaming ‘slow down, think, be careful.’
but your body… your body is saying something completely different. the ache between your legs has only grown worse with every kiss, every touch, every low sound he makes against your mouth. you’re soaked, throbbing, needy in a way that makes it hard to think straight right now.
jungkook pulls back just enough to look at you, breathing hard, lips swollen and eyes dark. his thumb gently strokes your cheek as he studies your face.
“darling…” he murmurs, voice low and rough, “do you wanna keep going?”
you’re still catching your breath, chest rising and falling quickly. the words get stuck for a second before you manage to whisper,
“but… i’m still on my period.”
he doesn’t pull away. instead, a soft, understanding smile curves his lips. he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, so gentle it makes your heart flutter.
“i don’t mind,” he says quietly. “besides… it should be ending by now, right? we could put a towel down.” then he kisses your cheek. “only if you want to, darling.”
you blink at him, a small “oh” slipping out before you can stop it.
your mind is still racing — telling you this might be a bad idea, that things are already complicated enough, that you should slow down before you make everything messier.
but your body is practically begging. the warmth low in your belly, the slick heat between your thighs, the way your pulse keeps throbbing there… it all screams: ‘yes. please. now.’
and you realise, you want him.
you really, really want him.
but before you can open your mouth to answer, your phone starts ringing on the table beside the couch, loud and sudden in the quiet room.
“fuck.” you breathe out.
your phone keeps ringing, bright and insistent on the table. jungkook glances at the screen first and immediately lets out a low curse under his breath.
“of-fucking-course, it’s fucking hoseok.”
you can’t help but chuckle softly at the pure annoyance in his voice, even though a tiny part of you is thinking the exact same thing, like — why now, hoseok?
“be quiet,” you whisper, still smiling as you reach for the phone.
jungkook reluctantly backs off, sitting up properly on the couch again. he runs a hand through his messy hair, jaw tight, the obvious bulge in his sweatpants making it clear how painfully hard he still is. he shifts uncomfortably but doesn’t say anything else.
you swipe to answer, trying to sound normal.
“hey, hoseok.”
hoseok’s voice comes through bright and energetic as usual. you nod along, giving short replies — “hi… uh huh… oh sure… tomorrow? yeah, that works… okay, see you then… bye.”
the call ends quickly. you set the phone down and let out a small breath.
jungkook is watching you, one brow raised.
“so?” he asks, voice still a little rough.
“just an early study session tomorrow,” you shrug. “he wants to go over some notes before class.”
jungkook scoffs, leaning back against the couch with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “he’s such a poser.”
you turn to him, amused. “what do you mean?”
“hoseok obviously just wants to impress people,” he says, shrugging. “always acting like the perfect, helpful guy. you never even know if he’s actually genuine or just performing.”
you tilt your head, frowning slightly. “is that bad? wanting to impress people?”
“yeah, when he fakes most of it,” jungkook mutters. “you don’t even know if it’s real with him.”
you nudge his arm lightly. “maybe you’re just being too harsh on him.”
jungkook chuckles under his breath, but there’s no real bite in it. he sighs, looking away for a second, then shakes his head.
“forget it,” he mumbles. “he cockblocked us. i have every right to be mad at him right now.”
you laugh, the sound light and genuine. “well… it’s okay. maybe it’s for the best.”
he turns to look at you then, eyes narrowing playfully. “for the best?”
“what?” you ask, still smiling.
instead of answering, jungkook suddenly leans in, cupping the back of your neck and pulling you into a quick kiss. you’re a little shocked at first, eyes widening, but you melt into it almost immediately.
when he pulls back, he shakes his head slowly, still close enough that his breath brushes your lips.
“i think it’s for the best if i go now,” he says.
you blink at him, trying to gather your thoughts as he starts pulling away. “oh… okay,” you manage, voice softer than you intended. then, a small confused frown tugs at your brows. “are you sure, though?”
jungkook looks at you for a second, then lets out a low chuckle.
“would you rather i jerk off here? i don’t mind. i am just worried ’bout you.”
you scrunch your nose, caught completely off guard by the bluntness. “you’re annoying.”
he laughs genuinely, the sound warm and amused, before slowly standing up. that familiar teasing smirk is back on his lips as he looks down at you, eyes still dark and playful, clearly enjoying how flustered you look right now.
“see ya tomorrow, darling,” he says, dragging the nickname out just to mess with you. “try not to miss me too much tonight.”
you roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the small smile tugging at your mouth. “you wish.”
he chuckles quietly, grabbing his phone. “i know you will. sweet dreams about me, yeah?”
you throw a cushion at him half-heartedly. “fuck off, jungkook.”
he catches it easily, laughing under his breath as he heads toward the door. right before he opens it, he turns back one last time, that cocky little grin still plastered on his face.
. . a/n: when i’m writing worst behavior i keep wanting to add more scenes, more moments, and even more lore… but then i’m like maybe it’s better to keep it simple?? idkkk. me: it’s just a silly fic, it doesn’t matter also me: stressed about every lil detail
but anw, i think it’s safe to say we’ve officially entered the fuckbuddy zone <3 (lowk wondering if i should add more chapters or keep it as is)
↳ Index [Chapter 06 - One Step Forward, Two Steps Back]
Pairing: Army General!Taehyung x Royal Healer!Reader
Genre: Smut, slight Angst, slowburn Romance
Warnings: morning cuddles :(, very stuck-up!Reader who is haunted by what she did 2.0, pushing people away out of shame, so much shame around having sexual needs, kinda subby very needy!Taehyung, my boy is going through it, but she is going through it too, sex-starved!Taehyung who is now also starved for her attention 2.0, genuinely she is just doing one long edging session with him at this point my poor boy :'), not so secret mutual masturbation in the morning after he pushed her buttons one too many times, omfg kisses!, vaginal fingering, sloppy handjob, leaky!Tae, begging, wow so much begging, strength & size kink, his hands and arms deserve a warning, there is also so much angst and fighting and yearning, everything in this chapter is enthusiastically consensual, old-fashioned traditions & values, this is not historically accurate except for: kings being assholes, also y'all (including me) will also feel edged fjadsf
Wordcount: 7.8k | Minors DNI you will be blocked & reported
a/n: my fellow sluts, i don't know how many nerves i still have left. my queen oc just let him be your husband please he is trying :( istfg if tae begged me like that, i'd already be on him :) leave some comments my besties, i love to yell with you ❤ hey pssst 🤓 enjoy this as you read for maximum immersion 🤠
An unfamiliar weight traps you. Everything else is familiar. The sheets which have warmed up from hours of being laid in, the faint voices of the court, and especially the feeling of wasting time. It is so familiar and yet entirely foreign this morning because of this weight holding you down. You wiggle under it, opening your eyes when a low groan meets your ears.
“Sire?”
“No leave”, he mumbles half-asleep, face muffled by your hair.
Your body temperature increases. He is hugging you, chest pressed against your back and groin nuzzled to your behind. No distance, only touch. If you weren’t already awake, this would have surely woken you up.
He must have taken you into his arms in his sleep. Your head is resting on his right arm, while his left arm is slung across your torso. This explains the weight, but it only complicates things.
“Mistress”, Taehyung whines and lifts his head, “don’t wiggle.”
“I have to get up.”
“Mhhm, don’t think so”, he mumbles and pulls you closer, nuzzling his nose into your hair.
“You- Sire. I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Ye, is great idea”, he decides. He inhales deeply and exhales, melting into you.
Even if you tried to flee, you couldn’t. He has you locked up, despite his sleepy state. You have to accept being trapped in his arms.
You try to enjoy this, you really do, but you just cannot seem to settle. A thousand thoughts and worries course through your head. What if the servants run in on you? What if his servants realise that he is missing and go looking for him only to find him in your bed? What if the guards walk in? What if somebody from the hospital needs you and walks in? What if the king walks in?
Taehyung lifts his head again, resting his weight on his elbow.
“What’s the matter? Am I truly this revolting to you?”
You glance over your shoulder. He is pouting and his face carries marks of the pillow. Adorable in its own peculiar way.
“No, but what if somebody sees us?”
“In your bedroom? Why would anyone enter without knocking?”
He has a point. No mannerly person would enter without knocking first. He smiles softly and settles on the pillow, speaking with his eyes closed.
“So relax. Just this morning, allow yourself to enjoy this”, he whispers, dancing his fingertips up and down the sheets.
“Do you?”
“Very. I missed you. Besides, you are a wonderful pillow to hug.”
“Thanks”, you say, laughing against your better judgement.
He chuckles and places a gentle kiss on your head. Afterwards, he very clearly relaxes and you are left pondering whether you should join him or stay tense.
Truth be told, this is really nice. The days have become so cold and he is really warm, tempting you to stay under the covers all day. His arms are a different story. They are comfortable to rest your head on, but also heavy to have around your torso.
The morning sun shines onto your face. Interesting. You had no idea that it does that. You glance at the origin of it. It enters the room through the small hole in your window, which you have been planning to get fixed for ages. Perhaps it is finally time to do so and perhaps accidentally sleeping in had its advantage. You have another task to fulfill.
You move slightly. Taehyung holds you down.
“Relax.”
“I am.”
“Good.” He purrs softly.
You cannot remember the last time you actually relaxed. Have you ever even relaxed before? Perhaps you never actually have. For as long as you can remember, your day started before sunrise and ended after midnight. The last time you actually slept for more than four hours was, well, today. Because today the sun already rose and you are still in bed.
Taehyung’s presence made you sleep in. This is your very first lazy morning. The concept of it is foreign to you.
How does one have a proper lazy morning? You do not know the rules one must follow. It leaves you feeling restless.
“This is kind of difficult, is it not?” you ask.
“What is?” Taehyung’s voice is deeper than usual. Gods, if you weren’t already obsessed with him, his morning voice definitely would have done the rest.
“Relaxing.”
“You think relaxing is difficult?”
“Yeah. Are there rules for it? What do I do?”
“This might come as a surprise to you, but you do nothing and there are no rules to follow.”
“Alright. Very worrying.”
He chuckles.
“I should already be at the hospital. People need me.”
“Then you can trust in your healers to handle it.”
You understand what he means by it. You have to take it easy and trust that other people can do a good job. You cannot keep working sixteen hour shifts and refuse to rest. You give up with a sigh.
“You’re right”, you mumble and finally, truly relax.
Taehyung pats your hand, which gives your heart palpitations.
“That’s a good girl. Relax”, he is joking, but your head is spinning regardless. You cannot break your eyes away from his hand afterwards. What the ever loving fudge is he doing to you?
“Do you do this often?” you ask, hoping that conversation will distract your mind from sinful thoughts.
“What?”
“Waste the day away in bed and call it relaxing?”
“Excuse me? It is barely past sunrise. It is you who starts the day incredibly early.”
“Fair.”
“And to answer your question, yes lately I have been doing it more often. It’s a welcome change after the war.”
“Mhm, I understand that. You must not have gotten a lot of sleep.”
“No. Not really.”
“Or rest in general.”
“No, definitely not.” He stubs your back. “You should do it more often too.”
“Yeah, sure”, you scoff breathily.
“Mhm, with me.”
You fluster, heart palpitating.
“Uhm… Do you often hug something when you sleep?” you ask, hoping that a topic change will help. If he keeps being so affectionate, you will begin to want him again.
“Mhm, it helps me relax.”
“But you’re not sleeping now.”
“No, right now I’m doing it because I’m a greedy lobcock, who likes holding his wife.”
“You have to work on the language you are using, seriously”, you murmur, eliciting a boyish snicker from him. It did not work, it made it worse. Taehyung likes holding you. How giddying.
“Sorry, years on the frontline are difficult to shake. You should have heard us talk.”
“I am getting an idea, thank you.”
You feel him chuckle, wondering if he can feel your pulse race. It is impossible to describe, but feeling his laugh is nice and deeply intimate.
“I like this so much”, Taehyung confesses.
You like it too, agreeing by settling deeper into his embrace. He smells nice and his arm is such a comfortable pillow. You wonder how it would feel to be embraced by him. Not just hugged or held, but embraced.
Taehyung closes his eyes, settling into this perfect moment. He dreamed of such mornings for ages and he must remember to thank Jimin for his wisdom. He was right. All it needed for you to relax was a bed in a private room.
You are completely different so locked away from the public. You are open to his affections, you do not complain about his touches and you see his hug as something normal. Taehyung finally feels like your husband and he wants to scream in joy.
He could relax eternally.
You not that much. The desire to be restless again arises. You really suck at relaxing. You want to work and fidget and do something.
You settle on letting your fingers run along his lower arm and open palm, tracing his fingers while you are at it.
You are relaxing. If this is what relaxing is, then you can do it. You just have to keep your fingers busy and then everything is alright.
Goosebumps rise on his skin. Taehyung has a difficult time not to sigh against your neck. This feels amazing.
It is such an unbelievable concept to you that these very same fingers did what they did. They look so innocent right now, but they can move like this and make you so hot.
“Can I ask you something?” his question startles you, forcing your hand to retreat.
“Yes.”
“Why did you leave without telling me?”
“I already told you, you were still sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Well, you should have. I couldn’t find you and it made me worry that you left me. Especially after you pushed me away the night prior.”
“Forgive me.”
“Alright. Done.” He kisses the back of your head, sending your heart into overdrive. He is so sweet. “How is your brother? Honestly.”
“Oh, Sire…”
“What? Did I say something wrong again?”
“No, it’s not that. You are just so…caring.”
“I care about you.”
Because he loves you. He cares because he is in love. You close your eyes, wanting to tear up again. You really like him and it is so scary because it goes so deep.
“Mistress?”
“I heard you.” You close your hand around his pointer finger. It is long enough that you can easily fit around him. Taehyung curls it slightly, deepening the connection. When you are like this, all of his doubts are gone.
“My brother, he is…” You falter for a moment, heart feeling heavy at the thought of him. “He is ten years older than me. He served in the army during the Wonju conquest when he was nineteen.”
“I heard about this. I wasn’t the General yet, my father was. The soldiers barely had time to rest between battles and they used pitch during many sieges. Not many returned unscathed.”
“My brother had his arm burned by pitch so badly that it needed to be amputated. He never really recovered from it mentally. He barely speaks these days and has episodes of mania. My parents sent him to a temple because they say that he will heal up there, but I know that it is just an excuse to hide away their cowardice son.”
Taehyung’s hand balls to a fist. You wiggle your finger in between, relaxing him instantly. You trace his knuckles, following your thumb with your eyes.
“My parents say a lot of things without thinking. I know that my brother isn’t a coward. That is why I try to visit as much as possible because he does not deserve to be cast away for serving in a war he did not want to fight in and returning with scars.”
Taehyung exhales shakily, pulling you closer. He kisses your neck, nuzzling it with his nose afterwards. Innocence laces the kiss and it therefore gives you a different tingle than his hungry neck kisses did.
“I know that your visits mean the world to him”, he speaks softly, squeezing your hand.
“I try to be of help as best as I can.”
“And you are. You understand. Not many can say this about themselves.”
“I understand, I really do. I wish that I could do more.”
“As you told me, sometimes all a person needs is the company of another. Your brother definitely feels better because of your visits.”
“I hope so. If I ever have my own house, I want to ask my brother if he wants to live with me”, you exhale deeply, “is this a reckless dream?”
“No. He will really appreciate the offer.”
“Then I am relieved”, you say and let go of his hand, “now. Time is up, I need to work.”
“Excuse me? No, you don’t”, he insists, holding you down with his arm.
“You! Unhand me”, you whine, wiggling in his strong hold.
“You are not to leave yet. Not when this is so nice.”
“I need to work.”
“No, you don’t.” He holds you down gently.
“Yes, I do.”
“Do I have to make rules just so you relax? Well, rule number one: do not leave shortly, embrace the laziness.”
“You are so-” A loud squeaky giggle interrupts you when he tickles you unexpectedly.
“Rule number two: refuse to rest and I will tickle you into relaxing.”
“That’s not even a rule, that’s a consequence. Sire please stop”, you laugh, fleeing him fruitlessly.
“Rule three: witty talk backs will get you more tickles and kisses.” He attacks your neck with kisses and tickles your side, making you laugh wholeheartedly.
“You’re unfair”, you squeal.
“You. Will. Relax.” A pause just so he can attack you again when you felt safe. “This is an order.”
“Please stop, you’re so unfair.”
“Are you relaxing?”
“No! Not when you are tickling me” You roll to your back, slapping his hand away repeatedly. “Stop, tickling me. Stop.”
“Fine”, Taehyung relaxes again, nuzzling his face into your cheek. You are clasping his hand so tightly.
You nudge him harshly, “you were so unfair right now.”
“Sorry.”
“Tch. You are not sorry. You enjoy torturing me.”
He chuckles, kissing your cheek over and over again. You will simply embrace the fact that he makes you go up in flames because his kisses are so nice that you do not want him to stop.
“Don’t laugh. You know that you are stronger than me and you use it against me like a villain.”
“A villain?”
“Yes, a truly mean villain.”
He laughs, purring softly afterwards.
“Okay, if you say so.” He lifts his head, gazing at you.
You meet his eyes, head still resting on his lower arm and body nuzzled against his strong frame. He is so beautiful. Even in the morning. Perhaps especially in the morning because lying down for hours made the blood rush to his lips and they are puffier than usual. You have never noticed that his right eye is double-lidded while his left isn’t, and that the prettiest of birthmarks adorn them. What a beautiful detail. You want to stare at him for hours.
Taehyung settles on tracing your knuckles because you cannot seem to want to let go of his hand. You have never looked at him this way. He does not know what it means.
“Rule four”, he says.
“You’re still on about the rules?”
“Yeah no, truth be told I had nothing. I just wanted to talk to keep the conversation going.”
“Yeah? Do you like it that much?”
“I do. With you I do.”
You smile. Taehyung retorts it, kissing your cheek. You fluster, giggling and rolling to your side to hide away in his arm. Because you hold his hand so tightly, you really tug his arm around you. Taehyung draws closer and closer, longing to be with you even further.
“Do you like it too?” he asks.
“Maybe?” you say, snickering adorably.
Taehyung sighs against your neck, fighting the urge to litter it in kisses. His heart beats so fast, his tummy is so tingly. This is the best morning he ever had.
You could probably leave if you are fast enough, but you somehow do not wish to. This is really fucking nice. You fluster because of your own thoughts. Now he has you cursing in your head. Oh, he is the most terrible influence.
“Why are you tensing? Are you planning to leave again?” he asks, moving his hand to your waist slowly.
“No, I’m not”, you squeak and grasp his hand tighter. “I’m relaxing.”
He chuckles, it sounds like a purr.
“The rules are working”, he sounds proud, laying himself halfway on top of you.
You are both so thinly dressed and he is so warm and muscular. This is the most amazing and heat-inducing thing that has ever happened to you. The slick feeling between your legs returns, your control falters.
“Must you put so much weight on me? You are really heavy”, you whine, panicking internally.
“Heavy? Really?” he chuckles.
“Yes, really. You are too muscular, it weighs your body down”, you say dead serious but he laughs regardless.
“I see. I am a mean villain and I am too muscular. Harsh words, my lady.”
“Hush”, you warn and nudge him with your back.
Defeated by your adorable attitude, Taehyung shimmies back so you aren’t blanked underneath him. He slips his arm under the blanket and lowers it to your waist. You can breathe a lot easier this way, however you do not. Your waist is so untouched and his arm feels incredibly intimate to have around you. The memory of him pinning you down still lingers on your skin. He is so strong, yet so careful when he holds you. The bantering and his tickles worked you up.
You want to enjoy this, you want to melt into him and never let him go, but the courtly rules haunt you. You were always told that married couples should only engage with each other when the duty of heir producing was asked of them. Marriage in your circles was supposed to be political or a way to secure good positions at court. Marriages of passion, of love and intimacy were things the common folk did or characters in Lady Inna’s stories. At least that is what you had always believed until Taehyung conquered you in this stupid alleyway and showed you another world.
A world you have been trying to escape ever since because in truth, it scares you just how desperately you wish to exist in it.
“Is this better?” he asks, fingers innocently moving on your stomach.
“Not really.”
“What is the matter with it now?”
“Your hand is moving too much.”
He purrs and slows down. If he does not move, his warmth seeps through your chemise. It reminds you of the warmth you felt as his fingers were inside you.
Oh no, you are starting to get really soaked again. Taehyung made you feel so comfortable that you are getting very obvious sexual needs. This is so embarrassing. You wiggle again, nudging his crotch with your butt.
“Mistress”, he breathes and flees, letting his lips dance over your ear, “you’re wiggling so much.”
“Because your hand is so warm and it’s on my lower stomach.”
“Do you want it somewhere else?”
“No?” you scoff, “don’t be ridiculous or I’m leaving.”
“Mhhm, alright”, he purrs and relaxes.
Of course you want it somewhere else. Between your legs.
Thoughts, so many unmannerly thoughts, are coursing through your head. You reach under the blanket and tug his hand away. Back to the light where you can look at it and make sure you have control over it.
“Better?” he chuckles.
“Yes.”
“Mhm, you’re so charming.”
So fascinating. His nail beds are pretty and groomed. His knuckles are fun to trace and massage. His fingers are really long. They are hands, albeit beautiful hands, but hands nonetheless. Yet they leave you feeling so giddy in your stomach.
They were inside you.
Giddiness courses through you. You press down on the pads of his fingers, searching for the magical thing that lit a fire inside you. His fingers are entirely normal. How was it possible to feel this way when he is just an ordinary person with ordinary hands?
But then, Taehyung is very far from ordinary. He makes you feel Feelings, something no one else has ever managed to do.
“Are my fingers interesting?”
“What?! No! I, uhm, sorry.”
You let go of them, dizzy from embarrassment.
“No, no please suit yourself.” He takes your hand again. “My hands are all yours, my lady.”
“Well, now I don’t want them anymore. You made it weird”, you murmur, pushing them away.
Taehyung chuckles, “really?”
“Yes. Really.”
He laughs and grabs your hand one more time, holding it hostage until you stop wiggling.
“You’re unfair. Stop showing off with your muscles.”
“Alright, alright you got me”, he gives up, sounding highly delighted by the entire situation. He relaxes his hand, settling against you without an ulterior motive (for now). He even makes sure not to rest his crotch against you.
You relax as well, letting the time pass as you ogle his hand. Temptation. So much temptation. Perhaps if you pretended to slip, it wouldn’t be so obvious. Taehyung curls his fingers with your touch, but does not react otherwise.
“Ah, nevermind”, you give up and let go, hiding your face in the pillow.
“What? Tell me.”
“No, it’s embarrassing.”
Taehyung props himself up and snuggles closer, rubbing your stomach.
“Tell me.”
“No, it’s silly and embarrassing.”
“Nothing you say can be silly or embarrassing.”
“No, I cannot say. It’s so stupid”, you whine and press back so you can rub your face. It pushes his hips snug against yours.
A gasp leaves you. Taehyung grunts in surprise, failing to act fast enough and flee. Right there, between your bottom and his groin, something stiff lays.
“Sire.”
“Yes?”
“What is this?”
“What is what?”
You wiggle your hips, eliciting a sharp gasp from him. He twitches, grasping your hips to stop your movements.
“Oh my, Sire!”
“Please forgive me, it is the morning and you are incredibly warm. Besides, it is your fault for playing with my fingers like that.”
“My fault? Excuse me, how is this my fault?” you squeak, wiggling quite vehemently which constantly rubs your bottom against him.
“Mhhhm stop. If you move like this, it makes it hard not to get hard”, he whines.
You flip and push at his shoulders. Taehyung falls with a gasp, hands settling beside his head and legs parting.
“No.”
“No?”
“No. Bad boy, don’t speak to me in such manners.”
“I only told you the truth.”
“No, you were being ridiculous again.”
“I’m not. It’s not my fault that I’m a man with a functioning co-”
You press your hand to his mouth, “do not say it.”
“Or what?” he challenges, muffled. “You’ll pretend that you don’t care?”
You increase the pressure. Taehyung escapes with a wiggle of his head.
“You cannot lie to me about how I make you feel. I felt how wet you were that night.”
For just a second he can watch how incredibly flustered his words leave you. Then darkness clouds your eyes and something dangerous flickers deep within your gaze.
“I am fed up with you.”
Your touch comes unexpectedly but wanted, cupping him over his clothes. He gasps, eyes widening in shock and body tensing. Blood shoots to his length and hardens it completely, tension builds in his stomach.
“For days you have been testing my patience and I have had enough. Maybe if you experienced it too, you would understand”, you growl, working him over his clothes.
“Fucking- ah ___, a-ah fuck.”
Taehyung arches his back, eyes threatening to roll back. You want to punish him, yet he is seeing stars. It is obvious that you are rusty with this kind of touch, but Taehyung is so starved for anything sexual that it feels amazing to him.
“How does it feel, huh? How does it feel to be treated so unmannerly?” you challenge, squeezing his tip between your palm and his stomach. The pressure is perfect, the friction is magical.
Taehyung grabs the pillow and feels himself tear up because he refuses to look away.
You are glowing.
“It’s not nice is it? To feel so good against your better judgement.” The way your fingers play with his tip has him curling his toes. “To be brought into such a moral dilemma of whether to enjoy it or be courtly. It’s not nice, is it?”
Taehyung squirms his hips, but you chase him. You wrap your hand around him as best as the fabric barrier allows and punish him with eager rubbing. This feels…so good to give him. Perhaps you cannot stop doing it because he looks so sinful and he feels so good. Perhaps you have to rub him harder to truly get across how frustrated he makes you feel.
“Please amghmh”, he gets out, pressing his hands to his own brow bones. His long fingers are in his hair, twisting it.
“That’s how you get me to feel. Like an unmannerly woman”, you spit and unfortunately redirect your touch to the base of him.
Taehyung croaks a helpless “ah” then his voice breaks and he gasps silently. “Please.”
“What’s wrong? Are you embarrassed? Now you know how I-”
Taehyung grabs your hand and redirects it to his tip. The fabric is soaked around it, wet warmth sticks to your fingers.
“Please touch me there. It feels so good”, he begs, bucking his hips with a blissed out moan.
You freeze in shock, head wanting to explode in overwhelmed surprise. He…enjoys this without shame. What the actual fuck, this is genuinely making you leak.
“More, please. I need more”, he pleads, chasing your frozen hand with eager thrusts. They are uncoordinated and entirely motivated by desperation.
He breaks something inside you, doing something that will embarrass you once you are yourself again, but which you cannot care about right now. You want him.
“Taehyung”, you choke out, slipping your hand under his gown to wrap it around his tip. His eyes roll back, his hands fall back on the pillow just to grab it.
“Darl-”
You silence him by slamming your lips on his’.
He feeds you a high-pitched whimper, arms closing around you and length twitching between your fingers. You feel greedy, insane and insatiable. The current experience is the most addictive sensation, his noises are so empowering. Your hand is merciless, jerking him off without any kind of plan. You have no experience in this, but perhaps this makes it as amazing. The clumsy, entirely greedy, fumbling of your soft hand. It is so honest, so deeply soaked in your raw feelings. He claws at you, desperately fighting for air as you make him see stars. He expected anything but this. He knew that he has been pushing your limits, he knows that he has been really testing them, but he never would have imagined you to show such a side. To punish him with pleasure, to touch him as if he owed you a debt and you hated him for it, is the very last thing he expected you to do and it is making his entire body shake.
“I can’t breathe”, he croaks, panting into your mouth.
“Try to”, you care rather little, pumping his heavy cock. He is leaking so much, getting your hand and his stomach messy. It makes a sound. This is what haunts you most: hearing how messy you get him. Closely followed by his noises.
“Do you really like this?” you ask hesitantly, tingling as he places kisses all over your chin and lips.
“Yes, yes. Yes, I do. Ah, I do.” He licks your lower lip. “Wanted you so much.” He kisses your jaw. “I love it so much”, he whines, dropping his head deeper into the pillow as his body shudders in pleasure.
You cannot look away. He looks so good in this state. You desire to keep going just so you can keep making him look this way. Taehyung writhes and squeezes your waist, throat producing a desperate moan.
“I want to touch you too.”
“Do.”
“Promise me you really want me to.”
“I really want you to.”
He wrestles your chemise over your bottom and pushes his hand between your legs. His touch today is messy and sloppy, unlike the calculated way he conquered you first. It shows how affected you have him, forcing you to gasp against his lips because while it was messy, it was also incredibly pleasurable.
You wanted – no, needed – his hands for days. This is what you couldn’t recreated. This is what you have been missing.
“You’re so wet again.” Taehyung is mewling, fucking your fist. “Please can I feel you, please?”
“This is so wrong”, you choke out and despite that, your hand continues to pump him. Way too fast for Taehyung to have any grip on control. “Sire, this is so wrong. We have to stop constantly being so sinful.”
“But it feels so good.” He rubs your magical spot, having you curl your toes.
“And it’s so wrong”, you moan, twisting your hand around his leaking tip.
“I don’t care”, Taehyung moans louder than you. The sound will haunt you for all eternity. He kisses you, using way too much tongue. Scarcity of air stops him because he forgot to breathe.
“I’m so close. Please let me be inside you, please don’t make me release on myself, please”, he begs, legs shaking and fingers slipping into your aching cunt.
“A-ah Sire”, you choke out, hand faltering around his cock. Fireworks of pleasure, tingles and amazingness explode inside you. The void is finally gone. You have his fingers again. No more hauntings. You are free and happy. So happy.
“Say yes please, I can’t be edged again. Not again. It hurts. Please”, he begs, scissoring his fingers in your soaked, aching, cunt.
You should hate how willing your body is for him and that the painful void you have felt between your legs ever since That Night truly needed his fingers to be cured. You did not want it to be true because it meant that you were truly a sin-driven woman. You should hate it, but you don’t because holy fucking shit, Taehyung curls his fingers so well inside you that you cannot think of anything else.
“Say yes, please. I have to feel you, I beg you”, he is pleading with you, curling his fingers and rubbing your clit at the same time. His begs are like a drug to you. The pressure is building up and it is getting there fast.
“Taehyung”, you whimper, dropping your face against his cheek.
“___”, he moans, giving your bottom a slight push, “sit on me, please I need you, please.”
“I have never-”
“Good morning, Mistress. Oh!”
You break away from Taehyung, staring at the scandalised, shocked faces of your servants. Horror overcomes you as reality hits you like a fallen tree. His fingers inside you suddenly feel like two hot blades.
“More, don’t stop please, I beg you, please”, Taehyung begs, curling his fingers inside you, “ple-”
You silence him with a hand over his mouth, squeezing his face until he finally stops making noises. His fingers are twitching inside you, making it very difficult to function.
“I was merely conducting a medical procedure that required a close up inspection”, you insist, feeling sick to the stomach. They will never respect you again. You will become the court’s scapegoat. This is a nightmare.
“Forgive us, General. Mistress. We knocked but you did not respond so we believed you to be sleeping. We did not know that you were with each other”, they are holding back laughter it is obvious to you.
“No! It was only medical, I swear! I inspected his leg!”
“Of course, Mistress”, they say, exchanging looks with each other as they leave the bedroom.
“Wait, please”, you leave the bed and stumble after them, “wait. It isn’t as it seems, I promise.”
You hear them whisper and snicker outside your doors.
“Please don’t misunderstand. Please.”
They disappear, probably spreading the news of your unmannerly actions everywhere. The rules keep repeating in your head. It isn’t very courtly for a husband and wife to share a bed without prior preparations. Intimacy and sex are means to procreate and keep family lines alive. Things such as desire-motivated mutual masturbation in the morning are seen as uncourtly. Pleasure is a sin, proper ladies and gentlemen do not engage in such. This is what you heard and lived by ever since you grew up. You should have stuck to the rules. You should have stayed courtly.
“This is terrible. This is bad. This, this is a catastrophe”, you are pacing, twisting your own hair. “What if this reaches the king? We will be exiled. My life is going to be over.”
“Seriously?”
You jolt in shock, remembering that Taehyung was still present. You look at him. He is sitting in bed, face flushed and hair tangled. Desperation surrounds him, despite his furrowed brows.
“Your life is going to be over because you got caught touching your own husband?”
“You don’t understand. We are not supposed to share a bed, let alone e-engange in such sin. We just showed everyone that we have no manners.”
“Hah!” He throws his head back in frustration. “Forgive me for a second, but the court has fuck-ass rules.”
“Sire! Lower your voice, you cannot-, this is- do not talk like this.”
“No. Fuck the court and fuck etiquette!” he screams at the closed door.
“Stop yelling, please.”
“Who the fuck even made these rules? A married couple has to stay apart? What kind of bullshit is that?”
“The king made them.”
“The king? You mean The King who does not even have a wife because she would rather spend time in the countryside than with him? The king who is probably jealous of everyone getting more action than he ever did? This king?”
“I…”
“Exactly. His rules are shit. I’m not a terrible person because I refuse to stay away from my wife. And I am definitely not a terrible person for wanting you.”
“Shut up”, you close the distance and throw your hand over his mouth, “if somebody hears you.”
Taehyung wraps his fingers around your wrist and kisses your palm. Your breath hitches. He kisses your fingers and palm which were just around his length. He kisses them. He goddamn kisses them and sends your heart into overdrive with it. He ends the affection by taking the tip of your pointer finger between his lips and flicking his tongue over it. Warm and wet. Your stomach clenches because of it, your breath hitches.
The temptatious world is so close again, whispering to you to just let it happen. Let it happen. You want it, let it happen.
“Stop”, you gasp, pulling back, “stop thi-thinking that the rules don’t count for you.”
“I don’t give a shit about rules. My uncle’s a twat and I’ve survived without them for years.”
“But I do. I care about them!”
“Care less”, he says and drops his head on your lap. He nuzzles his face into you, humming in contentment.
“No Sire, we cannot. No”, you panic, trying to flee him.
He hugs your shaky legs, purring into your thigh. He is too strong to be able to escape him. Not physically because he makes it easy to shake him off if you desire to do so, but mentally. He is intertwined with your thoughts, your heart and feelings.
“Sire, you’re a prince. People will judge you forever.”
He shakes his head, holding you tighter, “I don’t want to be a prince. I want to be your husband.”
“What are you saying?”
Taehyung looks up at you and it steals your breath. You have never been gazed upon in such ways. As if you were life herself, as if the very stars were sprinkled on your skin and your eyes were deep oceans.
“Let me be your husband, please. I’m so tired of fighting and violence and fuck-ass rules that make no sense. All I want is to be with you.”
“I don’t…”
Taehyung rolls off bed and kneels before you, kissing your knees and later the fingers desperately trying to push him away.
“I want to make you happy.” He kisses your wrists and inner arms.
“I want to memorise the paths of you until my lips can walk them blindly.” He kisses your elbows and grabs your waist, looking up at you.
“I want to worship you”, he chokes out, burying his face in your stomach oh so close to where it aches the most.
Heat pools between your legs. Way more intense than it did That Night or minutes ago. If he goes any further, you will break any kind of rule you have.
“No. Stop.”
Taehyung finally lets you push him away, staring up at you as you scurry to your feet. His clothes are messy where you touched him. He is pouting, eyes glassy.
“I want you out of my room once I’m back. Good day, Sire.”
“What did I do? Why are you cold to me again? You drive me insane with your behaviour. What am I doing wrong?”
“You just…I…it is what it is, good day.”
“___.”
You slip out of the room before he can react.
“Why are you doing this?”
He touches his own forehead, gritting his teeth. He is such an idiot!
“Stupid fucker, why do you always fuck it up?” he gets out, punishing himself with a harsh slap on his face.
Working at the hospital is torture. You could swear that every conversation is about your morning with Taehyung. They all know what you did and they are condemning you. You cannot prove it, but you know. Somehow you know that you are today‘s scapegoat, the scandal of the court, the misbehaving mistress. And that it is only a matter of time before it reaches the king and you will exiled.
You spend your day doing work that keeps you hidden, hoping that nobody comes looking for you. Your hands were the most tempting yet cruellest view. You couldn’t stop replaying what they did and how he felt. It haunted you because it didn’t feel bad when you did it. As a matter of fact, the sensation of his length ghosted over your palm and the memory of his desperate kiss stuck to your lips. It was so pleasant while it was happening and yet left you feeling ashamed.
And you hate that most of your day was spent thinking about him sexually. You hate that despite being the court‘s new scandal, you still couldn‘t stop thinking about him.
If you were completely honest with yourself, you want to disobey the rules and live a little. You were so ready to sit on him. Really, you would have gone all the way if your servants hadn’t interrupted you. If you were as brave as him, as confident as him or simply a man, you wouldn’t have to worry as much as you do. But alas you aren’t and therefore you regret this morning. Rules are important to you because they give you the perfect guideline on how to stay as safe as possible. For as long as you obey them, you will draw no attention and nobody will talk about you.
This keeps you safe and content, and most importantly safe from the king and the possibility of him closing the hospital. Yes, being abstinent keeps you very content. Just as content as lazy mornings with Taehyung. Even more content than that. Yes, you love being married and having to stay away from your own husband. You enjoy suppressing all of your desires until you feel like screaming. You really like imagining how it would have been to sit on him and knowing you will never know because of The Rules. You like being just as lonely and untouched as the king.
Oh, who are you kidding? You hate it. You hate having desires, you hate wanting him, you hate that Taehyung showed you the concept of a lazy morning. You hate it because it makes you miss what you cannot have.
And most of all, you are angry at Taehyung for putting these ideas into your head. He never should have opened your eyes to how idiotic the king’s rules are because now you are aware of the unfairness of them. You are questioning them, and you hate having to question what made you feel safe for so many years.
If these rules are as idiotic as they are, why did you build your entire reputation on them? Who are you when everything you ever stood for is based on the jealousy of a king? Your very existence feels uncertain to you, and you hate it.
“General, you’re back.”
You look at the door upon hearing Sooyeon’s greeting. Your worst nightmare just entered the therapy wing. Taehyung converses with Sooyeon, who explains something to him before she points into your general direction.
You feel your heart drop. His eyes brush over you and linger for a moment. The connection is magnetic and terrible for your sanity. He looks away, thanking Sooyeon with a nod.
Oh no. Nonono. No. You told him to stay away. He shouldn’t be here. Why is he here? And why is he making his way to you with food? You told him to stay away and he disrespects your wishes.
Because of him you question everything. Because of him people will stop respecting you. It is his fault. He made you a scandalous woman.
Taehyung is but three steps away from you. Lead by anger, you do something you instantly regret. You shove him back by the tray and therefore force him to spill the food all over himself. He yelps. You watch in horror. People stop what they are doing and stare. Their disagreement hits you like daggers. You feel so deeply embarrassed and ashamed by what you did.
“What the hell? What is wrong with you?” Taehyung gasps, eyes widened and skin burning from the hot food.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“Yes, you did.”
“No I didn’t, I wanted to move you. I didn’t- oh no, o-oh no.” You lower your head, biting back tears.
“The food wasn’t even for you. I brought it for Jungkook who cannot walk as far as the food hall”, Taehyung spits and points behind you. Jungkook is sitting by the table right behind you, staring at you in disgusted horror.
So Sooyeon pointed at him, not you. You completely embarrassed yourself.
“I didn’t know. I, oh gods, I-I…” you choke out and meet his eyes. They are darkened but hurt reflects in them deep inside.
“Thanks to you, he stays hungry. Are you happy?”
“I didn‘t- I don‘t know why I did that. I-” You look at Jungkook. “I’m so sorry.”
Jungkook scoffs and looks to the side, crossing his arms.
“Jungkook no I-” A panicked look back at Taehyung. “Sire, I didn’t- I-”
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find someone to take care of the burns you just inflicted”, he hisses and stomps away.
“No, Sire. Oh gods, why did I do that?”
You run after him, catching him outside.
“Sire let me help, please. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Leave me alone”, he grumbles.
“Please, I can take care of it. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t want you to”, he stops, staring at you with widened eyes and slightly flared nostrils.
You have never faced his anger so directly. It is scary and intimidating.
“Alright? I do not want you to take care of it. I want you to leave me alone.” He furrows his brows. “I mean, wasting food? Hurting me? How low can you steep?”
“I didn’t mean to. I wanted to push you away but I moved wrong. I don’t know why I did that.”
“Keep it. Right now I’m fucking angry at you and I need you to leave me alone.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Keep it.” He shoves past you, stomping away. “No actually.” He stomps back to you. “I’m going to tell you something. You are a frustrating person. I get it, this morning sucked, but pushing me like we’re children at a playground is low. Especially for you.”
You cannot look away, trapped in this uncomfortable moment.
“You didn’t even know whether the food was for you. I didn’t even say one single word to you which could have excused a push. You acted awful and like a dumb child.”
“I’m sorry. I know”, you say which he ignores.
“You embarrassed yourself and if you don’t go to the food hall and make sure Jungkook is fed, I will lose even the last ounce of respect I have for you.”
His words cut deep and they originate from honest anger. You nod your head despite wanting to cry.
Taehyung huffs air and turns. He walks three steps before changing his mind and stomping back to you.
“And another thing: I’m so fucking tired of your game. Stop playing with my heart, you coward.”
You gasp.
“It’s not about the sex, hells I can wait for you for as long as you need me to. It’s about the fact that you make me believe you really care for me until suddenly push me away again without an explanation except for “it is what it is”. What a crap excuse.”
He points his finger at you.
“I’m tired of being played. You want me to leave you alone or not?”
“I-I just. No, but yes. I don’t. Maybe?”
“See? Even now. Stand by your own desires like an adult, for gods’ sake”, he snarls. “How should I know where I’m at with you when you don’t even know yourself what you want?”
“Sire, I’m really anxious right now. I-I cannot think.”
“Don’t try to make me feel bad for you.”
“No, it wasn’t that. I-I’m panicking.”
Taehyung does something he will not be proud of. He does something he fully knows is an awful move to make, but he still commits to it. He commits to it because right now he is too frustrated and in too much pain to not be selfish.
“I don’t care. You’re an adult, solve it yourself”, he spits and turns away to leave.
He doesn’t return again. He truly left and you are trapped under the emotional rubble, forced to find your own way out. You bite back tears because you shouldn’t cry. You bite back tears as you run to the food hall and you bite back tears as you trot the walk of shame to Jungkook’s table. Everyone is still staring, now whispering.
This is actual shame. This is how it feels when people lost just a little bit of respect for you. This is real, not your stupid imaginative shame you made up in your stupid confused head.
“Here is your food. I’m sorry for what I did”, you get out, avoiding Jungkook’s eyes.
Jungkook, who stared at you in distaste at first, relaxes his brows.
“Thank you. Why did you do it?”
“Because I’m a childish idiot who doesn’t know what she wants.”
“I uhm, I don’t know what this means.”
“It’s better if you don’t.”
“Okay? I think you’re alright. You helped me walk again”, he says and smiles.
“Thank you. I’m sorry I just need to-” you flee because the tears finally cannot be held back anymore.
“Mistress? Hey, what’s wrong?” Jungkook calls after you, unable to follow you because of his stupid legs.
You run away from him and the hospital and all the people who witnessed you act like a dumb child.
synopsis : you’re freshly heartbroken watching your influencer ex boyfriend yeonjun move on like it’s his full time job, so obviously you start a chaotic little series called house of me and rope your hot, tattooed neighbor into fake dating you for content, except the kisses and touch feel a little too real, he keeps calling you “ pretty girl ” off camera, and now you you’re left asking yourself are you rebuilding your heart, or just setting the whole house on fire. so yeah do you want the house tour ?
pairings : tattoo artist!jungkook x youtuberf!reader
genre : fake dating + neighbours to lovers
rating : MDNI | 18+ ( explicit )
warnings : jungkooks an absolute simp, lots of sexual tension, dirty talking, unprotected sex, dry humping, recording sex tapes, tit play, overstimulation, creampie, semi-public sex, possessiveness, choking, multiple orgasms, slight voyeurism, hair pulling, spitting, praise kink, thigh riding, jealous/territorial jk, cockwarming, pussy slapping, edging, cockwarming, squirting, crying from pleasure, body worship
status : to be released
taglist : open
INDEX
00 — teaser
01 —
02 —
03 —
04 —
05 —
more to come
you kick off your shoes and pad farther inside, eventually lowering yourself onto the floor with your back against the couch still wrapped in plastic, still not quite yours yet. your phone buzzes in your hand.
ten minutes that’s how long it’s been since house of me the first episode went live.your screen lights up nonstop.you unlock it, breath hitching as comments flood in faster than you can read them.
im so proud of you
this feels so real, thank you for trusting us
healing looks good on you already
WE’RE HERE ALWAYS
your chest tightens, emotion swelling until it feels too big to contain.you smile, blinking hard, liking comment after comment. your thumbs move on instinct more than thought. “thank you,” you whisper, barely audible, like a prayer like maybe the walls could carry it back to them.
but when you lock your phone and set it down beside you, the quiet rushes back in again. you stand and you begin unpacking slowly.
a sweater tossed onto the couch books stacked crookedly on the floor. small pieces of your life placed without any real order, like you don’t yet know where anything belongs and then you freeze.
at the bottom of a box labeled MISC / CLOSET, you find it yeonjun’s hoodie folded and soft.Still carrying the faintest trace of him your throat closes instantly.
you sink back onto the floor, clutching the hoodie in both hands like it might disappear if you loosen your grip. the ache comes fast sharp and unexpected.
another box gives you more proof you’re not as finished as you pretended to be an old concert ticket tucked inside a notebook, a polaroid of you both laughing, careless and happy.
your phone lights up again when you accidentally brush the screen you unlock it scroll and find his contact
jjunnie : did you eat ?
jjunnie : i miss you already 😣
jjunnie : come over
a broken laugh slips out of you “God, i hate this.”the words echo back at you, swallowed by the empty apartment.
“ i hate pretending im okay,” you say aloud, voice cracking. “i hate being strong on camera i hate that he gets to move on like it didn’t wreck me.”your fingers hover over the keyboard one word.
you : hey
that’s all it would take. you stare at it for a long moment heart racing, hope and humiliation tangled together. then you delete it and exhale.
“no,” you whisper firmly to yourself. “not again.”your phone buzzes once more, a new comment. you open it without thinking.
honestly ? best revenge is living well or bagging someone hotter.
you snort through your tears, a surprised laugh breaking free.“bagging someone hotter,” you repeat softly, shaking your head. your gaze drifts upward to the door.
then to the door across the hall you blink. “…i have a hot neighbor.” the thought doesn’t hurt. it lands lightly not a plan, not a promise. Just a tiny spark of something easier than grief.
you smile to yourself, wiping your cheeks. “yeah,” you murmur “that might be enough.”you stand, folding the hoodie neatly this time. outside, the hallway stays quiet then, across the hall, a light flicks on.
and for the first time since the breakup, standing in the middle of your new apartment, you don’t feel completely alone in your new house. you stare at your reflection in the dark screen of your phone.
what am I doing ? the thought comes too late. you slip on your slippers, wipe your cheeks one last time, and step out into the hallway. the lights are dimmer here, quieter, like the building itself has settled in for the night.
you stand in front of 1406 jungkook’s door. your heart thuds loudly in your ears. okay breathe you’re just being friendly. this is normal neighbor behavior totally normal not unhinged at all. you lift your hand pause take a deep breath and knock.
immediately, you hear movement inside footsteps, something being dropped, a muffled “fuck” your eyes widen slightly the lock clicks and the door opens.
jungkook stands there with messy, sleep tousled hair like he’s run his hands through it one too many times. he’s dressed down now grey sweatpants sitting low on his hips, black hoodie hanging loose, sleeves pushed up just enough to show inked forearms.
he looks unreal like you’ve accidentally walked into a very specific fantasy. “hi,” you say, suddenly very aware of how small your voice sounds. he blinks at you once, twice.
“…hi?” he replies, confusion laced with amusement. you shift your weight, hands fidgeting. “sorry, i —this is random i know but i just wanted to say thank you again for helping earlier.”
“oh,” he says slowly, expression softening. “you didn’t have to do that now.” “i know,” you nod quickly. “ i just my manager left and i was unpacking and then i thought about it and—” You stop yourself, exhaling. “i promise im not this chaotic usually.”
a corner of his mouth lifts “could’ve fooled me.” uou laugh, relieved. “ i also promised id treat you so consider this me officially not forgetting.” he leans against the doorframe, arms folding loosely. “you offering food or emotional compensation?”
“both?” you offer. hs eyes flick over your face like he’s really looking this time. “…okay,” he says. “come in for a sec.” your heart skips. you step inside, the door clicking shut behind you. jungkook’s apartment feels nothing like yours yet.
the lights are low and warm, casting a soft amber glow across the space. it smells faintly of laundry detergent and something deeper beneath it coffee, maybe, or the lingering comfort of someone who lives here fully not boxed up not in transition.
you perch on the edge of his couch, spine straight, hands folded tightly in your lap like you’re waiting to be interrogated. your knees bounce once before you force them still.
jungkook sits beside you, close but careful not touching just near enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him, steady and grounding and incredibly distracting.
“so,” he says casually, leaning back into the couch. one arm draped along the backrest behind you, not quite around you. “shat’s the exact reason you came over here?” he raises an eyebrow.
your stomach drops okay now or never. you hesitate, lips parting, closing again. your eyes flick to the floor, then back to him. “i —um i kind of need your help.”
he doesn’t interrupt doesn’t rush you just waits, patient and attentive, like he has all the time in the world.“with,” you continue, the words spilling faster now, “making my ex jealous.”
there, the truth hangs between you. jungkook blinks once then twice. you don’t give him time to respond.
“he started dating someone literally one month after we broke up,” you say, frustration slipping through despite yourself. “like he didn’t even wait for the emotional dust to settle. he’s posting her everywhere and i know i shouldn’t care, but i do, and i hate that i do.”
something shifts in jungkook’s expression subtle, but there. his jaw tightens just a fraction.“and,” you rush on, “im not trying to ruin his life or anything i just want to look like im thriving like i moved on like im fine.”
your hands start moving now, gesturing helplessly as your thoughts tangle. “and I have this series, right? and people love tropes neighbors to lovers soft launch casual flirting nothing obvious but also very obvious?” you finally look at him, eyes wide, hopeful, terrified.
“ I need you to act like my love interest,” you blurt. “but also like my friend just flirt with me hold my hand sometimes maybe a back hug lingering touches stuff that looks natural real but not too real except maybe a little too real.”
you suck in a breath, realizing you’re spiraling. “ i don’t want to give away too much but also i want to give away enough and—” you stop yourself abruptly. your face burns. “…did i yap too much?” silence.
just long enough for regret to creep in then jungkook laughs. warm and low, filling the room as he shakes his head, eyes crinkling with genuine amusement.“whatever you say,” he says easily.
then, softer slower “pretty girl.” your brain promptly shuts down. “…really?” you blurt. “really really? you’re agreeing to this?” he shrugs, still smiling, utterly unfazed. “Sounds fun.”
your gasp comes out before you can stop it, and suddenly you’re leaning forward, arms wrapping around his torso, pressing into him without thinking.
“oh my god, thank you—” you freeze mid hug reality slams into you oh, you’re hugging him. you pull back instantly, eyes wide, cheeks flaming. “ i — sorry — i didn’t mean to—” then you stop narrow your eyes.
“…what did you just call me?” you demand, pointing at him. “you can’t just drop that and pretend you didn’t.” jungkook tilts his head, clearly enjoying this far too much. his smile turns slow dangerous“hmm?”
“you called me something,” you insist. “you don’t get to do that without consequences.” he tilts his head, lips twitching. “did I?”
“yes” he leans in just enough to make your breath hitch, lifts his hand, and gently taps your nose with his finger.
“pretty girl,” he repeats.
EXTRAS
spotify playlist — imma add more songs soon 😛
masterlist
🗯️ JO’s NOTES : hiii pookiesss !! <33
finally starting a new series and i’m actually so excited for this one 😭 HOUSE TOUR has a really special place in my heart, so i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i loved writing it. taglist is open, just comment if you want to be added <3
also wdym mark isn’t in nct anymore 😭 he was literally the reason i became a czennie i’m actually baffled ??? but i respect his choice anyways his contract was ending on 8th april. i really wonder who the next one is. the kpop industry is in shambles, an industry which is literally built on lies is ought to fall some day and i can feel that the days are near
anyways pookies, hope you all have an amazing day / night <33 take care of yourselves and stay hydrated 💗
𓄲 Jungkook raises a brow but doesn't say anything. His gaze, however, never leaves yours when he leans closer, lips parting just enough to let you slide the spoon past them.
전정국 x f!reader ˖ ࣪ ꉂ🗯˙ ‹— cw dilf!jungkook single dad jungkook nanny!reader 1980s au slowburn fluff angst (eventual) explicit content age gap (jungkook is 30, reader is 20) oc!cassian/oc!rayne (jk's children) small injury tiny bit of blood tension so thick your bbl couldn't even match
⧽ word count ⋮ 6.7k
average reading time ⋮ 35 minutes
── [ ✉️ ] Jesus, the tension in this one is actually killing me. I do think this one is serving its purpose in preparing us for what's to come, also Rayne is almost scary in this one... Do with that information what you will, I hope you'll enjoy today's chapter. Feedback in the comments/reblogs and asks are much appreciated <3
series masterlist | last chapter | next part
chapter 14 — "you should be careful with that"
"Can I open them yet?"
The weight of your closed lids rest over your eyes, they move back and forth and your ears strain after the faint shuffling noise coming from somewhere to the right. Inside the bedroom the air is warm but goosebumps still prickle along your forearms in anticipation.
"Not yet!" Cassian says, the sound of a drawer being pulled open following the command as he rummages through his desk.
He had grabbed your hand the second you arrived ten minutes prior, a giddy laughter bubbling in his chest when he pulled you up the stairs and to his room. Then he had sat you down on the floor and made you close your eyes, though not without having you swear not to open them again until he said you could.
A minute had already passed and it was becoming increasingly difficult not to take a peek as curiosity tugged at you. Soon enough, you hear him approach, he's moving quietly across the floor and when he speaks again his voice is closer. "Give me your hand," He says and you oblige with a raised brow, aimlessly extending your right hand.
The brush of his fingers are soft when they meet your skin and it takes everything in you not to steal a glance when you feel him slide something around your wrist. He messes with it for a moment longer before letting his hands drop again.
"Okay! Open!"
Doing as he says, you blink, eyes getting adjusted to the bright light of his bedroom before drifting down to the bracelet he'd put on you. "Oh sweetie," You exhale, tracing the beads with a finger. They were all made out of different colors, from bright blue to deep green, yellows, purples and reds. But what caught your attention were the ones in the middle, with letters that made out your name.
When you lift your gaze you find Cassian swaying back and forth on the soles of his feet, a small smile playing on his lips. "Do you like it…?" He asks, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks as his hands clasp behind his back. "We made them in school, I was going to make one for daddy but he wears his watch all the time. Then Ms Song asked if there was a girl I liked and she said I should make it for her—"
He cuts himself off to peer at the floor, the tips of his ears burning red. "…So I made it for you."
Nibbling quietly on his bottom lip, Cassian shyly avoids your gaze as he awaits your verdict. Glancing down toward the bracelet, you let your fingers graze along the beads once more as the corner of your mouth tugs upward.
"I love it," You exclaim, giving him little to no time to register up your response as you pull him in for a tight hug. "Thank you."Your words are muffled against his shoulder but he reciprocates the gesture, tiny hands clutching the fabric of your shirt as he clings to you.
Everyday the space he had made for himself inside your heart only seemed to grow. It scared you to think about just how quickly you had attached yourself to him. And the fact that you had been so close to losing him entirely makes your chest clench uncomfortably.
Cassian giggles when you pull back from the hug, a grin on his face. "You have to wear it everyday now!" He says as he points to the bracelet.
You hum, holding your wrist up proudly, "I wouldn't want it any other way."
He seems content with that as he nods to himself. You had expected him to reach for his homework next, ready to join his sister in the library for study hours before dinner — but Cassian doesn't move from where he's standing in front of you, and soon the excitement falls from his face.
"Daddy says you were sick." Concern twists his lips into a pout, one hand reaching out to clumsily check your forehead, though you don't think he knows exactly what he's looking for.
Guilt seeps back into your chest, pushing away the previous warmth and you swallow. "Yeah… I wasn't doing too good." You're glad Jungkook covered for you the way he had, even when you hate lying to Cassian — the truth would probably have hurt him more. "I'm much better now," You smile, wondering if he could see right through it.
Though he doesn't seem entirely convinced, he refrains from prodding further. "Being sick is not nice," He declares with a small huff, "Next time you can tell me and I will make it go away."
"Yeah?" Raising a brow, you send him an amused smirk, "Are you suddenly a doctor?"
Cassian quickly nods, "Mhm. Doctors can make that stuff go away. I will be your doctor, nanny!"
You can't help but laugh at that, shaking your head slowly until you realize that he was being dead serious. "Okay," Pretending to ponder his offer, you regard him through the corner of your eye as you tap your chin, "Fine. I'll come see you next time I'm feeling sick, how about that?"
"Promise." He's uncharacteristically stern today and you have no choice but to intertwine your pinkies when he brings his out to seal the deal.
With a confident tilt of your head, you let your finger curl around his, "Promise."
You could almost pretend that things were back to normal as you sit in the library with the children. Rayne is flipping through her text book, reading silently, save for a few sighs here and there. Cassian has himself busy coloring in the number 'eight' in his math book, tongue poking out as he concentrates on not going over the outline.
There had been noticeably less conversation than last week and though you tried not to question it too much, it was still hard not to. For their sake you trust that Jungkook hadn't told them anything. But sometimes Rayne would glance in your direction, and each time it looked as though she wanted to say something before biting it back again.
Half an hour in, you end up feeling rather useless where you sit beside them, staring out of the window quietly. Your fingers pick restlessly at your cuticles for lack of better use, the fragile skin tearing under your nails easily.
"Do you guys want a snack?"
The question is blurted out unprompted and it makes both children glance up from their homework. Cassian sends his sister a glance, silently checking for approval before nodding eagerly. Rayne only hums as she returns to her book, and thus they are back to their studies, paying you little mind.
You rise from your seat, throwing one last look over your shoulder before slipping out of the library quietly.
The Jeon house is as silent as it would be on any other day, with the exception of the creaking steps as you descend the stairs. When passing the hallway your gaze lingers on the dresser, memories of only a few days ago returning and for a moment you could almost see Jungkook, hunched over the piece of furniture with rigid shoulders.
He's gone in the blink of an eye, the memory slipping back into the shadows where you intend to keep it — but the cold feeling lingers deep in your bones.
Making it to the kitchen, you head straight for the fridge, since long familiar with where the fresh produce was kept. You opt for oranges even though they were rather tricky to slice. It would give you something to distract yourself with for a while.
Despite being allowed back to work, things didn't feel the same. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that you and Jungkook weren't talking, like at all. He'd barely greeted you upon your arrival, not that he'd had much time anyway with given how Cassian had hurried you upstairs.
And though you had tried to force yourself back into the once so comforting routines, you were never able to replicate the feeling of what had been. You hoped the children wouldn't catch on — hoped they wouldn't ask questions you knew you couldn't answer.
Grabbing a small knife, you turn it in your hand once before starting to peel the thick skin of the orange. The fruit quickly grows wet with its own juice, the blade slipping every now and then whenever you weren't paying attention.
Your mind is far away, lingering on Rayne for some reason. She had barely spoken a word since your arrival. You did not think she was doing it intentionally, she had always been quite reserved, much like her father. But the way she kept stealing glances your way whenever she thought you weren't looking, almost like there was something on her mind, it made you question yourself.
Perhaps you were becoming paranoid after all? Scoffing at the thought, you continue to peel the orange when the sudden creak of a floorboard from somewhere behind makes you jump. The knife slips from your grasp once more, this time finding its victim in your thumb as the sharp edge slices your skin.
You hiss, dropping the blade and the orange onto the counter as you clutch your injured finger. As you do, the sound of approaching footsteps grow closer and when you whirl around, you find Jungkook standing beside the kitchen island.
Brows shooting high on your forehead, you regard him with something close to disbelief. "I— What are you doing here?" A ridiculous question given this was his house after all, but you had been almost certain he would have left for work by now. Then again, you couldn't remember ever hearing the sound of the front door shutting.
Jungkook's expression remains impassive as he studies you. His eyes no longer hold the same resentment and frustration they had on that night, rather they had returned to their usual, distant edge. "I work from home today," He says as he takes a step forward. His hands are buried in his pockets, but his gaze lingers on the finger you clutch tightly.
You swallow, a small 'oh' catching on your next exhale when he comes to a stop beside you. He lets his attention drift over to the orange which you had been in the middle of peeling, then to the discarded knife before finding its way back to you. He frowns and without asking questions he lifts his hand from his pocket.
His fingers are warm when they wrap around your wrist. "It's just a scratch…" You murmur as he pries your curled fist open, the pads of his fingers brushing over your palm gently. Blood has swelled from the cut, smearing down the side of your hand in an ugly mess and you resist the urge to wince when the cool air hits the open wound.
Jungkook doesn't say anything as he turns the faucet on, adjusting the temperature once, twice, then bringing your injured hand under the soft stream. It stings at first but you bite back the pain as the blood washes off, blending with the water to create a soft pink hue that runs down the drain.
His thumb carefully rubs off what the weak stream won't catch, his eyes fixed on the task at hand. You, however, are only looking at him. Gaze trailing over the sharp line of his tightly clenched jaw, the furrow of his brows and the slight scrunch of his nose when the smell of iron filled the cramped space between you.
He doesn't comment on your lingering stare even when he's undoubtedly noticed it — though a muscle in his cheek jumps as he inhales. The water is shut off abruptly and Jungkook reaches for the towel hanging on the oven's handle. Breathing out through his nose, he dries your hand with it methodically.
Your attention lingers on the cut, still producing blood and your eyes widen when the thick crimson stains the towel. "I'll get blood on it—" You attempt to pull your hand back but Jungkook's grip on your wrist is unyielding as he tugs you back toward him.
"It's fine," He grunts when patting the cut dry with the cloth. He continues like that for a while until his movements suddenly falter. Following his line of sight, you see his gaze fixed to the bracelet around your wrist, the one Cassian had made you.
The colorful beads almost seem to sparkle under the light and he studies the letters engraved into the middle with a small frown. If he thought anything of it then he didn't say so as he instead forced himself back to drying your hand off, the motions noticeably stiffer this time around.
Then he hands you the small towel. "Keep it on," He instructs, stepping back to pull open a nearby drawer. His shoulders are slightly hunched when peering into the wooden compartment.
It doesn't take him long to find what he's searching for and you regard the package of band-aids with bated breath as he approaches. He fishes one out before reaching for your injured hand again — you let him without complaint.
The towel gets discarded onto the counter and Jungkook peels the paper backs off in order to align the plaster over your cut. His brows are pulled together as he concentrates on sealing the adhesive strips evenly around your thumb. The tender touch reminds you of that one afternoon where you had sprained your ankle, the moments spent on the couch as he wrapped your foot in bandages.
Jungkook is always gentle. Even now, when you have given him no reason to be, he's still gentle. The soft brush of his fingers against yours has your chest clenching and you pry your gaze away from his face to watch him smooth the band-aid over the cut. "You should be careful with that," He murmurs, tilting his chin toward the discarded knife.
Letting out a breath you had been holding in, you nod. "I will be." You tell him, glancing up from your joint hands to meet his eyes.
He's regarding you with that same frown he'd been wearing since first stepping inside the kitchen, looking almost conflicted. The corner of your lip twitches without any intent and you hum, "I promise."
He lets out a sharp scoff at that, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he lets your hand go. Taking a step back, he gives you a once-over before huffing under his breath and turning back to the sink to turn the faucet on a second time.
Letting his hands run under the water before reaching for the soap on stand by, he washes them thoroughly, shoulders lined with tension you know better than to point out.
Neither of you have brought up your last conversation, just like you hadn't brought up the kiss before that. The list of things unspoken only seemed to grow for each moment you spent in each other's presence — you wondered when the dam would finally break. You wondered if it would be ugly.
Once he's finished washing his hands he turns the water off, though does not dry himself on the now blood stained towel. His fingers flex by his sides, a few droplets clinging stubbornly to his inked skin and for a moment it looks as though he might say something. But then he snaps his mouth shut, turns on his heel and walks out of the kitchen a little too fast for it to cover what simmered beneath the surface.
You linger by the counter, listening to the sound of his retreating footsteps before shifting back to the orange you had been peeling only five minutes ago. Picking up the knife, you rinse it in the sink, ignoring the way your eyes returned to the band-aid around your thumb.
When coming back upstairs, now with a successfully cut up orange on a plate, both children look up from their homework. Cassian immediately zeroes in on the fresh fruit, his eyes lighting up as he quickly drops his pen and sits up a little straighter in his seat.
"You're the best nanny ever!" He exclaims when you put the plate down between them, already reaching for a slice as he shoves it in his mouth.
Rayne on the other hand, barely glanced up from her book, and when she did, her attention immediately fell on your hand. "What happened to you?" She asks, her tone devoid of any actual concern as she studies the band-aid on your thumb.
"Oh," You follow her gaze, shrugging awkwardly, "Just a clumsy mistake." Brushing the matter off again, you take the seat beside her younger brother, slipping your hand onto your lap to shield it from view.
Cassian immediately frowns, the half-eaten slice of orange hanging loosely between his lips. "Are you in pain, nanny?" He asks, the worry evident in the way he leans closer to try and peek at the plaster his father had secured around your thumb.
"No," Squeezing his shoulder gently, you smile, "I'm fine, sweetie."
Even though he doesn't seem satisfied with your response he lets the matter go in favor of the fruit he had been in the midst of eating. "Tell me if it hurts, I will make it go away." He says between bites, his free hand clutching the pencil he was coloring numbers with.
You promise him that you will, letting your arm wrap around his shoulders as you gaze down at his homework. Silence settles over the table once more but when you steal a glance toward Rayne, you find her still watching you. There was a subtle crease between her brows, her eyes never wavering from yours, even when she catches you looking her way.
The sky has just about settled behind the horizon when you pull the fridge open two hours later. Cassian had requested spaghetti bolognese for dinner and you were more than happy to fulfill his wish. Both children accompanied you downstairs under the pretense of helping out, though you figured you'd end up doing most of the cooking anyway.
"But no onion in it!" Cassian says when he sees you reach for the culprit.
Turning to glance over your shoulder, you raise him a confused brow. "Why not? The onions are the best part," You argue, though pull your hand back as you close the fridge door behind you.
The young boy stubbornly shakes his head where he sits on one of the stools accompanying the kitchen island. "It tastes spicy," He says.
"You're just a baby," Comes Rayne's voice from beside him. She occupies the seat next to him, arms folded across her chest as she eyes her brother with a turned up nose.
Cassian gapes, lips quickly forming into a pout. "No— It is spicy!"
His sister rolls her eyes dismissively. "You can barely taste it in the sauce anyway, stop being so fussy."
Their continued bickering becomes background noise as you rummage through a cabinet in search of the spaghetti. It wasn't hard to find things within the kitchen as Jungkook had everything perfectly organized — a miracle he hadn't labeled the shelves, you thought when pulling out the box of pasta.
"Which one of you wants to get me a pot?" You ask as you turn back to the kids. Their petty argument comes to an abrupt stop as Cassian whips his head in your direction, already sliding off his chair to oblige.
A moment later he's waddling over with a gigantic pot in both hands, a shy smile on his face. "Is this big enough?" He wonders, attempting to hold it up for you to take.
It was… More than enough. You weren't exactly cooking for a football team. But the determination on his face makes you pause and you nod when reaching out to retrieve the pot from him. "This will be perfect."
Cassian beams at that, moving to stand beside you as you fill it up with water. He was more than happy to help, which wasn't exactly unusual for him but today he was taking it to a new degree.
You're just about to ask him to fetch you a wooden spoon when the house creaks somewhere in the distance, cutting you off abruptly. You were just about to brush the sound off when Cassian suddenly exclaims, "Daddy is here!"
He's left your side in an instant, scurrying out to the hallway as he disappears around a corner. You glance after him, frowning as your gaze shifts over to Rayne who was also watching her brother disappear with an unreadable expression.
A moment later the young boy returns, clinging onto his father's hand tightly as he pulls him inside the kitchen. "Look! We're making spaghetti— And I picked the pot!" He rambles as he rounds the kitchen island, oblivious to everyone's silence when he parks both himself and his dad just beside you by the stove.
Jungkook, still dressed in office attire, looks quite disgruntled at having been yanked from whatever it was he'd been doing prior to this. His eyes flicker from his son, then over to the pot filled with water before landing on you. He doesn't say anything, though you notice his attention slipping to the band-aid still around your thumb.
"I see," He murmurs when Cassian gives his hand an impatient tug but doesn't sound overly enthusiastic.
You turn back to the pot where the water was slowly beginning to cook. "Yes, it was Cassian's request for tonight's dinner," Humming softly, you distract yourself by grabbing the container of salt, adding a pinch into the water before grabbing the wooden spoon yourself to stir it aimlessly.
There's a small pause where you almost think that he might excuse himself back upstairs by using his work as an alibi. But before anyone has the chance to do anything, Cassian suddenly speaks up again:
"I know!" He says and when you turn to glance at him, you find that he can barely keep still where he stands. "Daddy can help! He also knows how to make food!"
Silence follows the innocent proposal and though it probably lasts for only a second or two, it's enough for your eyes to meet Jungkook's dark ones. He's already watching you through his lashes but you cannot make out what he was wordlessly trying to convey.
Guilt seeps into your chest, curling around your heart before squeezing hard. This was probably the last place he wanted to be after what had happened — and you didn't blame him. You open your mouth to try and find a way to object Cassian's offer, even when you know he'd only meant well.
But the young boy doesn't seem to be at all bothered by the tense air around him. He's tugging on his father's hand hastily, already leading him over to the sink where he was presumably going to wash his hands before getting started.
Jungkook allows himself to be walked, his shoulders rigid as he peers down at the faucet like it had just insulted him. Then he shrugs, hands moving to push his shirt up to his elbows before beginning the process of washing his hands. His son, however, seems appeased by how the situation was unfolding and heads back to reclaim his seat beside his sister.
You blink before turning your attention back to the pot on the stove. The water was now boiling and you quickly seek another distraction in measuring pasta, breaking the long spaghetti in half before letting it fall into the hot water.
Stirring the noodles slowly, you try to focus on the way they loosened under the boiling pressure rather than the man standing just beside you.
Having finished cleaning his hands, Jungkook shakes the remnants of the water off in the sink before grabbing a cutting board and a knife. The kitchen is awfully silent, with only the boiling pasta on the stove and the rhythmic sound of a blade hitting the wooden board as Jungkook slices a pepper.
Turning your head over your shoulder, you find both children waiting silently on the other side of the kitchen island. Cassian is wearing a beaming grin whereas his sister is watching her father with a small frown.
"Do you guys want to set the table?" You ask, desperate to fill the quietness of the moment.
"Sure!" Cassian says, jumping off his chair and pushing it back in before heading over to where you wait. Rayne joins him not long after and you turn to open a cabinet as you retrieve four plates.
You hold them out to the young boy expectantly, "Can you carry all of these?"
He nods eagerly, small hands reaching for the stacked porcelain with a look of determination as he assures you that he was strong. Then you hand his sister the glasses, watching after her as she follows her brother into the adjoining dining room.
Left alone with only Jungkook inside the kitchen, you slowly turn back to the stove, pulling out a saucepan to place alongside the pot cooking the pasta. Then you head over to the fridge in search of ground beef. Your finger taps restlessly against the door's handle as your eyes scan the shelves up and down multiple times before finding what you're looking for.
"Grab the onion while you're at it." Jungkook's voice nearly makes you jump and you're thankful to not be holding a knife this time around. You peer over at him where he's cutting up a pepper, still not looking at you, though there was a noticeable tension in his jaw.
Your gaze flickers back and forth between him and the onion waiting inside the fridge. "Cassian said he didn't want any added," You hum, your attention subconsciously wandering over to the dining room.
Jungkook huffs out a sharp breath, not lifting his eyes from the cutting board. "He'll eat it." His tone leaves no room for further debate and you did not dare push him, especially with his children within possible earshot — so you grab the onion before shutting the fridge.
He does not thank you when he grabs it, doesn't make a scene out of the way his fingers brushed yours. His movements are slightly uncoordinated when he peels the brown skin off but he still does so efficiently.
You should probably start preparing the saucepan — you should probably stop looking at him for that matter. Yet you cannot tear your gaze away from Jungkook's hands, still slightly damp from their previous wash, a few water droplets clinging to his fingers.
He's skillful with the knife there's no doubt about that and you fall into a small trance when you watch him dice the onion with rapt movements. It doesn't take long for the familiar prickle to hit your eyes, even from a distance, and you squint against the sudden assault. Jungkook, on the other hand, seems unbothered by it as he continues to cut the onion without trouble.
Lucky bastard, you thought when turning to butter the pan. You focus on the way the fat melts against the bottom, fingers drumming restlessly against the counter top.
Jungkook finishes dicing up the onion a moment later and he walks over to the stove which you're guarding. His proximity feels like a cage, heavy with all the things left unsaid and even though he was simply reaching over to pour the onion into the pan, you could hear your heart drumming in your ears.
He was too close. So close that his arm could easily brush yours without meaning to. The worst part was that he had yet to look at you, not once since briefly acknowledging you upon stepping into the kitchen — like he couldn't bear the sight of you. He was doing this not out of courtesy for you, but his children, you'd have to remind yourself of that.
"Nanny!" Cassian hollers when he appears in the doorway, "We need the forks and knives now!" Both you and Jungkook send a unanimous glance over your shoulders at the sound of his voice — but it is you who respond with a small smile as you beckon him over.
"Alright, just be careful when you carry them."
The rest of your shared cooking experience goes surprisingly well. You and Jungkook manage to stay out of each other's way for the most part, stepping around one another when reaching to grab something and keeping your eyes solely on the food cooking on the stove.
Cassian hovers around you both for the entire ride and you're thankful for how eager he is to fetch the things you need, especially if they stood a little too close to Jungkook. Rayne retook her seat on the stool by the kitchen island, not saying much as she watched the scene in front of her with a neutral expression.
Twenty minutes later you had managed to whip together a decent meal. You and Cassian were now in the middle of taste-testing the sauce.
"What do you think?" You ask when retrieving the spoon from his mouth, "More salt?"
Cassian licks his lips before smacking them thoughtfully, a tiny frown pulling on his brows. "Maybe a little…" He says, gaze darting between the saucepan and the container of salt. "I think you should try it too!"
Nodding, you turn back to the pan as you dip the spoon into the sauce. You take your time blowing on it before bringing it to your lips, savoring the flavors on your tongue. "Hm…" You hum thoughtfully, "You're right, it needs a little more salt."
The process is repeated after that as Cassian gets to sprinkle in another pinch of salt and stir the mixture, standing on his tiptoes as he does, just barely managing to peer over the edge of the stove. Then you take turns tasting the sauce a second time, nodding in approval at finally having gotten it right.
"This is amazing!" Cassian exclaims when turning to his sister, "Do you want to try some too?"
Rayne huffs, shaking her head where she sits. "No thanks. I'll eat it later anyway."
Her brother grumbles something under his breath but doesn't dwell on her refusal for long when his gaze instead flickers over to his father. "Daddy, you'll try the sauce right? Me and nanny made it really tasty!"
Jungkook, who had been in the middle of washing up the knife and cutting board, looks up from where he was scrubbing the sharp blade. His eyes land on his son, brows furrowing deeper when they shift over to you. For a second you think he might reject the idea just like his daughter had, but then he turns the sink off and shakes his hands to a semi-dry state.
He walks over to where the two of you stand slowly and you try to keep your breathing under control when he comes to a halt just in front of you. His fingers twitch by his sides and you're not oblivious to the tension etched onto each feature making up his face.
Though Cassian is blissfully ignorant to all of this as he tugs on your sleeve. "Nanny will feed it to you, won't you, nanny?" He asks when peering up at you through thick lashes. You want to object and just hand Jungkook the spoon, but the excitement practically radiating off him makes you waver.
"I… Sure." You awkwardly say, clearing your throat swiftly when dipping the spoon back into the sauce. Jungkook still hasn't taken his eyes off you, the sudden attention directed your way making you sweat. You hesitate for a second before raising the spoon slightly.
Blowing on it gently, you then hold it out for him. "Careful, it might still be a little hot…" You murmur, keeping one hand under the spoon so to not spill anything.
Jungkook raises a brow but doesn't say anything. His gaze, however, never leaves yours when he leans closer, lips parting just enough to let you slide the spoon past them.
You make quick work of giving him a taste, praying he won't notice the tremble to your hand when you withdraw the spoon from his mouth again.
Cassian waits eagerly beside you, his eyes jumping between you and his father as Jungkook swallows. He nods slowly, letting his tongue drag across his bottom lip and you actually have to look away when he does.
"It's good," He says, giving his son a gentle pat to his shoulder and the young boy practically glows at the praise.
"See? I told you!" Cassian hums, not noticing the lingering glances his dad sends you as he instead turns toward the food waiting on the stove, "Can we eat now?"
Sharing the meal together was not half as bad as cooking it. At least then you had the natural distraction of shoveling food into your mouth, all the while continuously wiping at Cassian's chin with a napkin as he kept spilling sauce over himself.
Still, the time spent around the dining table was probably the closest to normal you had gotten all day. For a while you managed to forget about the uncomfortable tension between you and the children's father — and it felt like salvation.
After dinner Jungkook had taken a retreat back to his study, muttering something about an upcoming meeting that he was preparing for. Glad to be freed from his imposing presence, you poured your attention on getting the children to bed.
In regular fashion you tucked Cassian in first. He was chatting along happily throughout brushing his teeth and getting changed into his pajamas. Even as you flicked the lights off and the room was basked in shadows, did he continue to ramble excitedly. You had to fold the blanket over him three times before he finally settled with a big yawn.
"And tomorrow we're going to build this huge fort of sticks and rocks in the school yard…" His words turn into a jumbled mess as his eyes grow heavy, but he stubbornly keeps talking. "…I wish you could come see it, nanny," He sighs, a pout drawing across his lips.
Brushing a lock of hair behind his ear, you give him a small smile. "You don't suppose we could build a fort of our own in the garden?"
That seems to please him and Cassian nods tiredly. "I suppose we could," He hums, his eyes now shut as his breathing began to slow. "But you can't tell daddy… He won't like the mess," He murmurs groggily before sleep pulls him under with a final, big sigh.
You linger for a moment longer, palm caressing his soft cheek. "I won't tell him." The whispered promise doesn't reach him but you thought you could still see him relax further into the pillows.
When slipping back out into the quiet hallway, you turn toward Rayne's closed bedroom door. She would always excuse herself as soon as she was done brushing her teeth, and each time you came to check on her after seeing to her brother — she would pretend to be asleep.
Twisting the knob, you gently push the door open just enough for a sliver of light to spill into the dark room, its single strip falling on the high point of her shoulder. Rayne lays curled up on the bed, her back turned to you and the covers snug around her body. She wasn't sleeping, you could tell by the uneven rise and fall of her chest, but she wasn't acknowledging you either.
Sometimes you wondered if she did such simply to avoid conversation with you.
With Jungkook already home, you were free to leave now that both children were tucked in for the night. Fingers curling around the metal handle, you send the young girl one final glance before slowly sliding the door shut again.
There had been but an inch left when Rayne's voice suddenly pierced the silence.
"Nanny?"
You freeze, eyes widening as they peer through the tiny crack left by the door. "Yes?" A small part of you still didn't believe that you had actually heard her, but then she speaks again and this time you become certain.
"Can you close my window?" She asks, her tone holds a guarded edge despite the simple request.
Hesitating for a fraction of a moment, you then push the door open once more and step over the threshold. She doesn't turn to look at you when you enter, doesn't say anything else either.
The window sits ajar and it welcomes a chilly breeze to sweep through the room. Odd. You could not remember opening it for her. Fingers undoing the hatch keeping the glass ajar, you nudge it back into place before locking it to prevent it from bursting open during the night.
Behind you, there's a faint sound of blankets rustling. A second later the mattress creaks and Rayne exhales, "Can I ask you something?"
Turning your back on the window, you lean against its sill as you give a slow nod. It was unusual for her to insinuate conversation like this without your constant prodding. You regard her through the lens of the moonlight, watching as she sits back against the headboard — it was hard to read her face in the darkness, but you guessed she was frowning.
"Did something happen with you and father?"
Her voice is leveled and far too calm for the question she was inquiring. You don't know what you had expected her to ask but this hadn't as much as crossed your mind. Throat suddenly feeling parched, you swallow thickly as your hands curl protectively around the windowsill behind you.
"No," The lie slips out almost too easily and you're thankful for the shadows of the night. "Why do you ask?" You're the one frowning now, brows pulled deep together as you try to figure out what could have possibly prompted her to pry on such a topic.
Rayne only shrugs, sinking further into the pillows that support her weight. She doesn't respond right away but you know that she's watching, you can feel her gaze on you, sharp and calculating — just like her dad.
A whole minute might have passed by the time she finally says something. "Curiosity I suppose…." Her tone is indifferent, like she was speaking of something as mundane as the weather. After a brief pause of consideration she then adds in that same voice, "Father is acting strange around you."
You let out a disbelieving breath at that, something that borders on a laugh. "Strange?" Echoing her words, you shake your head.
But Rayne is most sincere. She tucks herself back under the covers with a hum, her face falling perfectly in line with the light spilling in from the open bedroom door. "Mhm," She murmurs, her eyes — though half-lidded with exhaustion — fixed on you.
"Strange," She repeats with a yawn, "He doesn't act normal when you're here."
You blink, feeling both guilty and dumbfounded by the statement. Had the remnants of last week been so painfully obvious that even a seven-year-old child caught up? You can't think of a decent response to that and luckily you don't have to for a short moment later you can hear her breathing slow as sleep creeps up on her.
The sound of your feet are soft against the carpet when you approach her small frame, curled up on the bed. Her face is relaxed with the means of rest and her lashes fan across her round cheeks. Fingers reaching out to brush across her forehead, you dare lean down and kiss the warm skin.
"Goodnight, sweetie."
She only curls in further on herself, an unintelligible murmur escaping her parted lips before she relaxes against the mattress. You stay only a minute longer, watching her slumbering figure before exiting her bedroom and shutting the door quietly behind you.
And though you tried to push her sleepy words aside, you knew that they would be keeping you up all night.
── [ ✉️ ] Right so, that was nice. HW!Jungkook we could feed you something other than sauce... But I'll save that for next chapter, which, very fittingly is the porn. I also expect the next chapter to be quite a bit longer than usual, given I write very long and detailed smut scenes. I hope you ladies enjoyed the chapter, please talk to me about it, you know I love it so so much when you do <3
description: You thought that it was just going to be be a normal vacation to the beach. Seven days of hanging out with your parents before moving across the country to start your new life at grad school. It was supposed to be that simple. However, when you meet a local boy that wants to show you how life is lived by the water, you don’t realize just how quickly you can be swept away.
note: this is part 1 of 3
DAY 01: THE SANDBAR
“Are you gonna stay underneath that umbrella the entire time?”
Your jaw clinched, toes nestling themselves further into the sand, as if that would somehow anchor you in place. The constant crash of the waves in front of you had induced an almost trance-like state, so the sound of your mother’s voice had thrown you off completely.
“It's hot,” You responded, turning to face your parents who were just a few feet away, relaxing in their lawn chairs. “And I enjoy the ocean a lot more when I don’t have to squint while looking at it.”
“It’s called sunglasses.” Your mom tapped her glasses, showing off the simple fix to your complaint.
“Well, it’s still hot.” You shrugged.
“Go in the water then. You haven’t been in all day. You’re gonna waste your whole time here.”
You sighed heavily. Wasn’t the point of vacation to spend it in whatever way you found pleasurable? And if for you that was relaxing beneath the shade, what was so wrong with that? Plus… your fear of the ocean and all of its infinite surprises lurking beneath might also possibly be a factor, but nonetheless.
"Fine, but I'm going to the pool." You stood up, grabbing your towel and sliding on your flip-flops.
"You know, for someone starting grad school at their dream college in a couple of weeks, you're surprisingly grouchy," Your dad commented as you began to walk away. You stilled momentarily, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you made the decision not to respond.
Instead, you started your trek through the sand, but that didn't mean the words from your father weren't still ringing in your head. Grad school, dream college, these words did nothing but cause a giant pit of anxiety to unfurl inside of you. And admittedly, it was in fact the reason you had been acting so waspish towards your parents lately. They had been making comments about your irritable mood all summer, but to be fair you weren't doing your best at hiding it.
After graduating back in May, your parents thought it would be a good idea for you to move back in with them until you started grad school in early September. You were moving across the country, and wouldn't be able to see them as much as before, so you couldn't really argue with their reasoning. Not that you minded it. You and your parents had a good relationship, but that also meant they could tell almost immediately when something was off with you. Which was why you hadn't been too keen on living with them again. But hey, four months of not having to pay rent and having home cooked meals was a hard perk to turn down.
You hadn't meant to turn this past summer into a sulking fest. But as the deadline of getting in that car with the belongings you had acquired over your life to move all the way across the country loomed closer, you couldn't help but start to retreat into yourself.
The thing that killed you was that you had been so excited at first. You remembered reading the first line of the acceptance letter last year with all of your friends surrounding you, tears streaming down your face from the overwhelming joy; but now, you were scared, unsure, fucking terrified.
You were going to get your Master's in Architectural Engineering, which had been your goal since learning about the ins and outs of the job during an introductory class your freshman year. It was something you had worked incredibly hard to achieve, and now that you actually had the manifestations of all of your efforts sitting in the palm of your hand… You just weren't sure anymore.
Was it the right choice for you? Was it something that in five, ten, fifteen years down the line, you would end up regretting? Was it worth packing up your entire life to move to a place where the closest person you knew was a thousand miles away? And most importantly, would you fail?
The questions continued to rattle inside of your head, sending violent swaths of anxiety through your limbs every time a new disastrous hypothetical managed to conjure itself to life. You tried shaking them away as you pushed open the gate to the pool that sat outside the community of beach houses, one of which your parents had rented for the week.
It was a beautiful place your parents had picked. The houses were right on the beach, so you didn't have to walk too far after hours of soaking in the sun. All of the houses were lifted high into the air by stilts to protect them against the possible flooding from hurricanes. Thankfully, since there was actually one scheduled to pass by in a couple of days. Luckily it was predicted to miss for the most part, just some outer bands that could bring heavy rain and some power outages. Plus, it wasn’t supposed to happen until your second to last day here anyways.
You dropped your stuff onto one of the empty folding chairs. Didn't seem the pool was a very popular destination at the moment. You were the only one here. Great, more time to spiral in silence. You were expecting a rowdy kid, or something at the very least, hoping the splashing and screaming would do something to keep your mind occupied.
You walked over to the steps, slowly making your way down into the water. You sighed in relief from the coolness dulling the harsh rays from the sun. It was a perfect day, not a cloud in the sky. You'd never expect a storm was coming soon.
You found yourself swimming towards the deep end, treading water for a moment, before forcing all of the air out of your lungs and yourself to sink to the bottom. Your feet scraped at the concrete flooring for traction, wanting to stay in this serenity just for a minute. Down here, with water engulfing your entire body, the stream of the jets reverberating in your ears, you found peace.
On land, you couldn't stop the constant nagging about your impending future, but down here, even though it was even quieter, everything stopped. You weren't Y/N, future architectural engineer. You were just a mass of cells teeming beneath the surface. No thoughts, no future, just here—In the moment.
You stayed like that for as long as you could. Your body starting to betray your desire to stay down here as it demanded oxygen. You were just about to relent and push your way back to the to the top when the calm water around you suddenly fractured. You opened your eyes and started to turn towards the disturbance, but before you could completely twist your body in that direction, a pair of arms suddenly enveloped you; speeding you towards the surface.
The panic from being grabbed by whoever the hell this stranger was caused you to inhale on the way up. The water had filled your throat, causing you to start to choke as you finally emerged and felt the air around you.
"What the—" Cough. "F-fuck!" Cough. “Who the hell—" Cough.
Suddenly an open palm started to repeatedly smack down onto your back as you felt yourself being dragged back towards the shallow end. The hits helped more of the water clear out so you could get in some much needs breaths. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly as you felt your feet come into contact with the bottom of the pool.
"You okay?" The person who grabbed you—and almost killed you—asked.
Even in your adrenaline induced state, hot anger flared as you whipped to face this person who apparently thought it was funny to mess with people in vulnerable states. You had an insult already on the tip of your tongue, but when your eyes settled on this mystery man, the words disappeared like vapor.
You knew you had just been cursing him inside of your head, but almost murdering you aside, this man was absolutely gorgeous. He was muscular and tan, tattoos completely covering both of his arms. Black, wet hair pushed back off of his face that was adorned by an eyebrow and lip piercing covered in jewelry as well.
You realized unfortunately that you were not being subtle in the meaning behind your staring when his lips started to slowly curve into a smirk.
"Almost drowning certainly didn't stay on your mind long." He smiled. "Glad to be of service."
You scoffed. Great, now the arrogant bastard thought you were some air-headed idiot who would get over her near death experience simply because she saw a pretty face… And sure, maybe that had actually happened, but you weren't going to let him think that.
"The only reason I almost drowned was because of you." You scowled.
He cocked his head in confusion. "So I should've just let you die at the bottom of the pool then?" He crossed his arms, the sun rippling over the droplets covering his skin.
God, why did he have to look like that?
"I wasn't dying. I was…" You trailed off, not wanting to sound stupid, but at this point the situation was already past that. "I was trying not to think. I was about come up when you grabbed me. It scared me, and I inhaled some of the water. That's all."
Realization dawned on his face, hand scratching awkwardly at his eyebrow. "Wow, you must think I'm a total jackass, huh?
"Well, I thought you were a murderer there for a minute, but you seem… not the murderous type—for now." Smooth, really smooth. You were just going to use the excuse that you were still trying to get oxygen to your brain.
"Glad my name is cleared then." He laughed, the sound sending a shiver down your back. "I really am sorry. I just got off a shift at the marina down the road. I sometimes sneak in here after and just swim for a minute to unwind. I saw you at the bottom and just thought the worst."
Wow, he really did think he saving you. From his perspective you were down there for a while, making no move to come back up. Now you were the one that felt like a jackass for being rude to him. "I guess we both have jumping to conclusions in common then."
"Seems we do." He smiled. "I'm Jungkook, by the way."
"Y/N," You replied, rolling the sound of his name around in your head. "Thanks for saving me, even if I didn't need it. The thought that counts."
"Thanks."
"If anything, I'm sorry. You said you just got off work and I probably gave you a heart attack when you saw me. Wouldn't have been fun finding a dead body after getting off your shift."
Jungkook said he worked at the marina down the road. You had seen it when you and your parents were driving by earlier today. It was where people docked all their boats or where you could go to rent them for the day. There had been everything, from small fishing boats to luxury yachts. If he worked there that must mean he was a local.
"Definitely not." He agreed. "But really, no need to apologize about earlier. If anything I'd like to make it up to you. There's a hurricane coming in a couple days, can't let you leave here without making some memorable experiences."
You pursed your lips in confusion. "What do you mean?" Jungkook suddenly stepped closer to you in the water, hovering only about a foot away from you now. There was sparkle in his eyes. The action made you tense before throwing a hand in his face to stop his advancements. "Hey, you're hot and all, but I don't need you to make it up to me by using your dick."
His mouth dropped at your words, and then he was doubling over as he burst out with laughter. After he stopped his giggling fit, he brought his hand up to wipe a tear at that had formed at the corner of his eye. "You're funny, city girl. And you definitely weren't lying about jumping to conclusions."
"City girl?" Your brows furrowed, seemingly more irritated by the nickname than the fact that he basically just said he was not in fact trying to fuck you like you had implied ten minutes into meeting him.
"You can just tell after a while of living here." He shrugged, ruffling some of his still wet hair onto his forehead before leaning into whisper next to your ear. "And, uhm, the service I was going to offer you was unfortunately not as enticing as your idea. But hey, I'd be more than willing to help you out, if that's what you need to… What was it, again? Not think?"
There was an instantaneous rush of heat that sliced up the back of your neck and through your belly. You couldn't help the way you pressed your legs together in response. But you quickly pushed away the feeling, turning to whisper your own response back. "Wow, the beach boy is easy. I'm completely shocked."
Jungkook smirked, pulling his head back to look down at you. "Okay, I deserved that, but to be fair you brought up my dick up first."
"Simple misunderstanding." You tried acting innocent to your part in this whole conversation. "So if not that, then what were you going to offer me as an apology for almost downing me?"
"I was going to tell you that there are better things to do around here than sit at the bottom of a pool to get your mind off of whatever's bothering you."
You couldn't lie and say that you weren't just a little bit interested. Granted, you had just met Jungkook, but he seemed like he could be a fun time, even if it was just a hook-up at some point this week. Plus, regardless of whatever his ideas to distract you were, just being in his presence was a distraction in itself. With that decision, you made your way up the steps of the pool, grabbing the towel you dropped on the chair earlier. "Show the way then, beach boy."
— — —
"How long are you here for, by the way?" Jungkook asked, tapping at the steering wheel of his truck as he drove down the road.
Probably not the smartest idea to get into a strange man's vehicle, but you had at least told Jungkook you had to go let your parents knows you were leaving. They seemed a little hesitant about you going off with someone you didn't know. You were their kid after all. But after a brief description of the interaction you'd had with Jungkook they said it was fine, seeming to find the story amusing.
"A week. We just got here earlier today." You answered, leaning against the passenger's side door. "So, are you actually from here?"
"Born and raised." He tapped on his turn signal. He told you during the walk back to the parking lot that the place you were going was only a few minutes away. "Probably gonna die here too."
"Wow, morbid." You whistled. "Thought you guys were supposed to be all chill vibes. Fun in the sun, life by the water, all that jazz, you know?"
Jungkook chuckled, seeming amused by your stereotyping. "I never said I was sad about it. Just stating a fact."
"Actually, you're right. In all those country songs they're always talking about dying in their hometown and being happy about it or something, right? Never really got the appeal, but I guess I also don't live in a place like this. Maybe if I grew up five minutes from the beach I'd feel the same."
Jungkook hummed. "Don't get me wrong. It's not perfect. But it's hard to leave once you're here, and well, I didn't really have a choice in the matter, being born here and all."
You understood what he meant. For you, it was an easy decision to go to college a couple of hours from home after you graduated from high school. You lived in a decently sized city, but nothing special. Not like this place that Jungkook grew up in. It was one of those idealistic beach towns that you saw in movies and TV shows. It wasn't some huge, tourist riddled, spring break bait type of beachtown. There were still tourists of course, you were here obviously, but it was calmer, more serene. You saw how it would be hard to give this is up. Jungkook was pulling into a parking space as you finished up your thoughts on the matter. He opened his door before rounding the truck to open yours, a backpack slung over his shoulder.
"We have to walk like ten more minutes to get there from here. You'll probably have to put your shoes in my backpack."
You raised a brow, but still moving to hand him your shoes to put them away. "Why do we have to walk barefoot?"
"Because we have to go through the water?"
Your eyes widened, heart stuttering. "Uhm, how deep is this water?"
"About to your waist." He motioned for you to follow him, stopping at a clearing in the trees.
"We're going in that!? You gasped, skin already crawling. It wasn't that the water wasn't clear. You could see to the bottom, but it was a narrow channel carved out at some point in time by the ocean. There was lots of shrubbery on either side—plenty of places for animals to hide in. "What about snakes? Spiders? Sharks?"
Jungkook laughed, taking his own shoes off now. "You really think there's a shark in there?"
"You said it's waist deep! It's certainly possible."
"Yes, I will admit it's possible, but very improbable. It's so narrow. They wouldn't wanna risk getting stuck coming through here."
Even with his explanation you weren't sure if you could do this. You didn't like unknown. You wanted to see numbers, facts, guarantees. Not the wild mystery of 'improbable.'
Jungkook could clearly see your hesitation. He stepped down into the narrow channel of ocean water with no hesitation. "Come on. Get on my back." He twisted his backpack so that it was now over chest.
"You're gonna carry me?" You asked, taking a small step forward.
"Yeah, I can tell the second you stepped in some seaweed you would jump out of your skin." Jungkook teased, grabbing your hand to pull you closer to the edge. "Just easier this way."
You huffed, relenting as you slipped your legs into the water, and the second you were fully standing on the ground, shells, rocks, twigs and whatever the hell else touching your feet, you instantly jumped up wrapping your legs around Jungkook's waist, arms encircling his neck.
"Oh, god." You nuzzled your face in his neck. "Was this all just a trick to get my legs around you, because you could've just asked nicely instead of risking my life."
He laughed, the vibrations rumbling against your chest as he began to wade through the water. "Risking your life? We haven't even gotten to the fun part yet."
You were starting to think it was a mistake coming along on this little adventure, but you had to admit, you sure as hell weren't spiraling about grad school right now. "Just go fast. You said no sharks, but what about the snakes."
"Oh, there's definitely snakes."
You let out a small scream, clamoring your way higher up his body as he continued through the water. "Why the hell would you tell me that!?"
"Just trying to desensitize you is all. You said you were only here for a week right? Got a lot of stuff to show you over the next seven days."
"What?" You asked, starting to get a little more comfortable the closer you got to wherever this channel of water ended. "You're gonna be my personal tour guide for the week? I'm sure you have better stuff to do than—Oh, wait." You cut yourself off, suddenly realizing. "Is this like your thing? Swoon whatever girl you stumble upon for however long they're on vacation for?"
Jungkook turned his head, looking at you over his shoulder. His mouth not even an inch away from yours, making your breath hitch. "So I'm swooning you, am I? Haven't even shown you anything yet."
You didn't pull away. You accepted the challenge. "Well, you better hurry up then, or you might have to find a new girl of the week."
He smiled, eyes flicking down to your lips. "Noted, city girl."
He turned his attention back to the path the two of you were following. He was moving a bit more quickly now, and after another couple of minutes you saw where the path flowed out into the open goddamn ocean.
"Oh, what in the actual fuck?" You asked, squirming on his back. "Straight into the ocean?"
"There's a path on the side that'll take us to shore. I'm not evil. I'll let you have a break before I make you go in." He grinned devilishly as he dropped you from his back before helping you find your footing on the worn down path he had been talking about.
"Oh, so you're making me go in now?" You asked, hands on your hips as you stared down at him still in the water.
Jungkook lifted himself up, slinging the backpack over his shoulder. He leaned down, breath fanning over your jaw. "Yes, I'm making you. How else are you gonna get the sand dollars, sweetheart?" He reached up, gently pinching your cheek before pulling away and starting down the walkway.
You were left temporarily stunned for a moment before you turned to chase him down the path. "Sand dollars? Like the things they sell in gift shops?"
"Yes, except these are free, and not whatever upcharging bullshit they try to pullover on people like you." He winked.
You waved your hands in the air. "Ah, yes, the girl from the city doesn't know how to traverse the sea for these magical ocean coins. Call the police." But you decided not to mention that your mom had already bought at least fifty dollars worth of these sand dollar things and you hadn't even been here a full day, so maybe his comment was warranted.
"Traverse?" He snorted as the two of you finally stepping onto the actual shoreline. You breathed a little easier, your toes digging into the sand instead of branches and wet grass. "We're hardly traversing. We're just swimming to the sandbar out there."
You looked to where Jungkook was pointing and immediately went bug-eyed. "Excuse me? That light colored water is where we're going? That's at least fifty feet out!"
"It'll be okay." He dropped his backpack that held your shoes onto the ground.
Your heart was thumping wildly now. You weren't sure why you were like this. The ocean was one of the only entities that you had just never been able to get past. You went to the beach a couple of times as a kid but never went past your waist. The concept of all of the animals surrounding you as you trespassed through their home scared you, and it was just something you never really got over. So what Jungkook was asking you to do was simply impossible. You'd never gone out far, let alone go out fifty damn feet.
"Jungkook…" You trailed off, not wanting to admit how nervous you were. It was just a bit embarrassing. You were an adult and you couldn't just go out in the ocean. Even children could do that. It sounded ridiculous.
He glanced up at as he continued to rummage through the bag, doing a double take when he noticed your expression. He stood up, bringing one hand gently onto your shoulder. "Hey, I was just joking. You don't actually have to if you don't want to. I'll go get them for you."
You bit your lip, looking back and forth between Jungkook and the sandbar. You didn't like the fact that you were making this into such a big deal. You could do this. It was just water—albeit a massive body of water, but water all the same.
"I'll… I'm gonna try," You finally said after a minute.
He gave you a small smile, his hand lifting itself from your shoulder, fingers lightly grazing your cheek. "I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."
There was a flutter beating beneath the bottom of your ribcage. The feeling trickled out slowly down your arms and legs. Wow, this guy was really good. You had to admit, this week was certainly going to be interesting.
"Sweet, but I don't think the sharks will care much about your promises to me." You slipped around Jungkook's reach, the quivering sensation in your stomach dissipating somewhat. You walked onto the shoreline, where the waves slowly lapped at your feet.
Jungkook joined your side, shoulder pressed against yours. "I'll keep a look out, and if I see one coming I'll just punch it in the nose. Easy." He shrugged. Just shrugged at the idea of getting into a fist-fight with a damn shark. "Might lose a hand. Which would suck because I wouldn't be able to play the guitar anymore, but hey, I have to keep my promise."
"You play guitar?" You asked, trying to delay the inevitable of going deeper into the water.
"I do." He grabbed your hand suddenly, pulling you further in, clearly noting your attempt at delaying this. The ocean now swaying at about your mid-calf. "Me and a couple of my friends play in a band at a few of the bars around here sometimes."
"Hmm, like Jimmy Buffet type stuff?" You asked.
He stopped, letting out a small laugh as he pointed to his face. "Do I look like I listen to Jimmy Buffet?"
"Doesn't everyone at some point? Just need the beach and a drink in your hand and I think his voice just magically starts coming from the clouds or something," You said sarcastically, but it earned you another chuckle as Jungkook paused once the water was at your waist.
"Trust me, I've heard that man's songs enough living here to last a lifetime." He was still holding your hand, moving to stand in front of you. "But I'll admit I can't help but sing along when I've had a couple drinks."
"Maybe I'll get lucky and see that at some point this week." Your breaths were getting a little shaky now, but Jungkook standing in front of you and blocking out the vast ocean was helping somewhat.
"Definitely a possibility." He brought his other hand up to tap the the underside of your chin, forcing you to look at his face. Jungkook really was something. His hair was dry now from sitting underneath the sun, the glare reflecting off of his piercings serving as shiny beacons fighting for your attention. "Yeah, just keep looking at me exactly like that the entire time, got it?"
You felt yourself get a little flustered. "Looking at you like what? I was being perfectly normal."
"I didn't say it wasn't normal, but thank you for confirming it with your defensiveness." He smirked. "But seriously, I'm gonna walk us backwards, and you're going to keep your focus on me. Try not to look at the water."
"Wouldn't it be better if I walked backwards so I can still see land?" That seemed the most logical.
"You would think, but you're just going to see it getting further and further away the more we go out. It'll freak you out seeing it like that until your feet can touch something again at the sandbar."
That made sense. Even if you glanced over his shoulder at some point on the swim over there it would still just look like the same ocean that you were standing in right now. But seeing the shore get smaller might send you into a tailspin. Your only saving grace in this situation was that the waves in this town were thankfully calm. Nothing you could go surfing on, just small caresses.
You nodded. "Okay, yeah, I'll just keep… looking at you."
Jungkook gave you a reassuring look—and then you were being pulled in. Water sloshed above your shoulders, your feet sliding down the steady decline of the ocean floor.
"Oh, fuck, fuck—" You were already panicking, and you couldn't help the way your head was already twisting to stare back at the beach. But before you could fully turn your head Jungkook grabbed your jaw forcing you to look at him again.
"Eyes up here, remember?" He was staring at you intently, water swaying gently beneath his chin.
You took his advice seriously this time, locking your gaze with his. you were glad to see there was no smugness or annoyance or just any type of negative emotion at your fear. Just the slightest hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he waited for you to say you were ready.
After about a minute of staring at him, his dark eyes waiting patiently for your answer, you were finally ready—or as ready as you were going to be. "Okay, go. Just do it."
Jungkook pulled you gently, the water finally reaching your lower face. "The bottom is about to be too deep for you to stand, okay."
"Okay." You nodded, still not breaking eye contact, and then suddenly you were off your feet, quickly beginning to tread the water as he continued to pull you forward.
"Just like that." Jungkook smiled at you encouragingly, and it made you feel surprisingly relaxed. Him looking at you with such pride at doing something so small. "See just like swimming in the pool earlier—well besides the sinking to the bottom part. Don't do that."
You laughed, relaxing a bit further as you continued to keep your head above water. "I mean at least you're here to save me again if that happens."
"Yes, I swear if at any point this week I see you drowning I will absolutely save you," He said, when a bigger wave suddenly lapped over the back of his head and straight into your face.
"Ugh!" You yelped, spitting out the saltwater that had managed to slide past your lips. In the commotion you didn't realize you must've panicked and threw your arms around Jungkook's neck, and he looped one of his arms around your back to keep you steady.
"Easy, girl." He whispered, reaching to smooth a piece of hair that had fallen against your forehead. "Here let's try something different the rest of the way."
"Like what?" You asked, nervous for change when you were already in an area that you couldn't stand.
"Keep holding onto my neck. Keep looking at me. I'm gonna lay on my back and kick my feet to pull you that way. It should be faster too."
As long as the idea didn't involve him leaving you stranded out here you truly didn't care, so you agreed to the plan quickly. But when he suddenly leaned back, his hair submerging in the water, you felt yourself being pulled closer to his chest from your arms being looped around his neck. Not only that, but his crotch was suddenly grinding against your stomach with every thrust of his legs propelling the two of you further out. You felt the tips of your ears start to heat up, because you still refused to look away from his face and that was causing a very lewd image to appear beneath you.
Jungkook bared his neck as he looked up at the sky, breathing heavy as he continued to pull both of your body weights through the water. You felt your eyes drift down his chest, the constant flex of his stomach beneath you making you unconsciously dig your nails into his skin as you imagined this scenario of you being on top of him in a different setting.
"You're not doing a very good job at hiding what you're thinking about right now," Jungkook said, amusement fusing with his voice. You looked back up at him wide-eyed, mouth opening and closing like a fish at being caught, but before you could lie and refute his claim, he continued. "I didn't say you had to stop imagining it."
"You are…" You trailed off, letting out an incredulous laugh. This man was seriously doing something to you. He made your body feel it was vibrating when he said things like that.
"I'm what?" He asked, not letting you get out of it that easily.
"You're not very humble, are you?"
"Hey, I was just pointing out the obvious."
You huffed, not liking this imbalance. "Well, sorry I'm so obvious."
Jungkook suddenly shifted beneath you, making both of your bodies go vertical, his arms squeezing around your ribs to pull you closer. You gasped, his nose grazing yours as you both fought to stay above the water. "Never said I wasn't thinking the same thing as you." He whispered. "I'm just better at hiding it."
"And why would you need to hide it?" You asked, starting to feel a little breathless from constantly treading water. Or at least that was the reason you were going to tell yourself why you were so breathless.
"Wouldn't want you to think I'm some sleazy guy who would take a scared woman out here for nefarious reasons."
"Nefarious reasons, huh?" You asked.
Jungkook tilted his head, lips just barely brushing over yours so closely you could feel the drops of saltwater on his mouth. God, you really wanted him to kiss you. You knew you shouldn't. You had literally just met him after all. However, it didn't seem to matter because suddenly he was yanking you forward, head falling into the crook of his neck.
"We're here." His voice echoed against your ear, and it took you a couple of seconds to realize what he was saying.
You slowly stretched your legs all the way out, the soles of your feet suddenly coming into contact with sand, the water sitting just below your hips. You breathed a sigh of relief before turning in Jungkook's arms to face the shoreline. Giddy laughter erupted from your chest as you stared back at your starting point. The backpack Jungkook had left on the beach now just a small black dot in the distance.
"I did it!" You clapped, jumping around in the water like a small child. "Well, you dragged me most of the way, but still!"
"Hey, I won't tell anyone if you won't." He smiled, sitting down to rest after what was surely a taxing journey for him.
You joined him, balancing on your knees in the sand as you took in the view around you. The sandbar itself was probably only about fifteen across, but it seemed like it went on for miles down the coast. It was strange, being so far out here but still being on stable ground.
"It's oddly calming out here," You said, continuing to look around you. You noticed a couple of boats off in the distance as they passed by.
"Ah, has someone gotten over their fear?"
"Not completely." You wished that this sandbar was just a bit taller, but after being over the open ocean floor this felt like a safe haven. "But definitely better."
"That makes me happy." He smiled, shifting his position to dig for something in the sand beneath him. "Now let's get to what we came here for?"
"The sand dollar things?" You asked, moving closer to him.
"Yes," He paused, his face lighting up when he seemed to find what he was looking for. He brought his hand up from the water, holding a white, patterned circle between his fingers. "The sand dollar things."
You reached out, taking it from him. You turned it over in your hands, grazing the random holes that were pierced through it. "Wow, so you really can find these things easily. My mom's gonna be so pissed when I go back with these for free."
He chuckled. "Tell your mom I'm sorry for not showing up sooner. Could've saved her the trouble."
"I will." You handed the sand dollar back to Jungkook, and you watched him shove it into one of the pockets of his swimming trunks that seemed to button shut. He would have to be the one holding them since you were only wearing a bikini. "So you just rub around in the sand?"
"Pretty much." Jungkook reached out, grabbing your hand beneath the water. He guided your hand to dig beneath the first layer of sediment. "There." You felt the hard object beneath your fingertips before pulling it out of the water, the disc almost the size of your face. "Wow, that's big."
"Look at you getting lucky on your first try." Jungkook grabbed it, putting it in his pocket with the other one. "Come on, let's walk around. Find some more." He stood up, still holding your hand until you found your balance.
You nodded, excited to do some more exploring. "Okay, let's go."
— — —
"How's my form!" Jungkook yelled, once again doing a backflip off the sandbar and back into the deep waters of the drop off. This was his third attempt.
"Eh, it's starting to get sloppy." You gave him an apologetic look as he climbed back onto the sand to sit next to you. "But hey, sloppy for you is still pretty good."
"Aw, thanks for the compliment." He leaned over, kissing you on the cheek.
Even beneath the hot summer sun that two of you had been playing around in for about an hour now, your skin still managed to prickle at his touch. Time had managed to slip by before you knew it out here. Jungkook's pockets had gotten full fairly quickly with all of the sand dollars you'd picked up. After that you just watched Jungkook swim around, the sight giving you a little bit of anxiety at first. Not liking your guide putting himself back in deeper waters, but as the minutes passed you realized that this place seemed to be made for him. Like when it was being shaped all those hundreds of millions of years ago, they had him in mind. He was just made for the water in a way that you couldn't explain.
"Are you starting to get thirsty?" Jungkook asked, breaking you from your thoughts.
"Uhm, yeah actually." You hadn't realized until he'd asked, but now you could feel that your mouth was incredibly dry.
"Sorry, I should've asked sooner. We've been out here for a while."
"It's okay." You shook your head. "I'm happy you brought me out here. I had a really good time."
"I'm glad." He smiled softly, reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "There's a lot more I wanna show you this week. If you're still interested that is."
He was giving you an out. That maybe you didn't want to commit to continuing to hang out with some guy that you had just met today. But there wasn't a single thought in your mind that wanted to turn him down. "Yes, I'm still interested. I wanna see how life's lived by the water. Will you show me?"
Jungkook licked his lips, eyes flicking down to your mouth. Your body shifted closer to him. You hadn't even done it on purpose, like your limbs were working with a mind of their own; their mind wanted to be as close as possible to this man.
"I would love to show you," He whispered, head tilting towards yours. You could tell he was about actually kiss you this time. You angled your body towards him, getting ready to meet him in the middle, when a sudden interruption ended your impending serenity.
"Look who it is!" Someone yelled over a speaker. The sound making you practically jump out of your skin. It had only been you, Jungkook, and the sound of the ocean for a while now, so it took you by surprise. When you turned to look it was a boat not too far away. A group of people waved at the two of you.
Just closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Sorry, it's my fuck ass friends." He turned to the group and shot them the middle finger. "Fuck off," He yelled.
"Ladies and gentleman, just to your right here is a very rude man in his natural habitat." There was a brief pause. "And it looks like he's sitting next to an extremely lovely lady."
You snickered. "Charming."
"Sorry, they're idiots." Jungkook stood up as the boat got closer. "What part of fuck off was not understood?"
Now that they were stalling out about a ten feet away from the sandbar you could see the group more clearly. There was one guy and two girls. The man that was talking through the speaker earlier was still holding it when he replied.
He scoffed. "I see a stranded couple in the ocean, come to help, and I'm the bad guy? Wow, Kook, you really are something."
"Yeah, it wasn't just you being nosy or anything, right?" Jungkook quipped sarcastically.
"Kim Taehyung, nosy?" He grabbed at his chest dramatically. "I have never heard of such a thing."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, but I'm charging you for a favor anyways." Jungkook reached down, silently asking for your hand to help you stand. You took it, pulling yourself up beside him.
"What favor?" Taehyung asked, not using the boat speaker anymore.
"This is Y/N. She's here for the week. Can we catch a ride back to her place." Jungkook turned to you. "Are you okay with that? Or do you wanna go back the way we came? Up to you."
You couldn't lie, you were pretty tired. All the swimming and baking under the sun had zapped most of your energy, plus you hadn't had anything to eat or drink in a while. You didn't know these people to just be getting on a random boat with them, but you trusted Jungkook decently enough. Well, as much as you could for knowing someone for less than two hours.
"Yeah, we can ride with them. That's fine. Guess I'll have to get a new pair of shoes though," You finally answered, looking at the beach where you'd left them in Jungkook's backpack.
"No, I'll come back and get them later. No one should mess with it."
The boat was already banking against the sandbar. Jungkook motioned for you to follow him. He climbed up the boat first before reaching down and helping you climb in as well.
You looked around at the group that was now staring at you in close quarters. "Uhm, hi. I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you guys."
"Hi," They all said in unison.
"Taehyung." The man with the speaker from earlier said, giving you a wave.
The two girls rattled off their names: Jihyo and Nayeon. You gave polite smiles as they introduced themselves.
Jungkook was rummaging through a cooler on the back of the boat, bringing a water bottle out. He handed it to you before guiding you to a pair of open seats. You opened the cap, practically chugging the entire thing in one go.
There was tsking sound coming from Taehyung. "You brought this poor girl out here with no refreshments. Shame on you Jungkook. Just shame."
"That's very funny coming from the guy who stranded you and Jihyo in the middle of the ocean for five hours because you ran out of gas," Jungkook replied as he grabbed you another water.
"God, don't bring that up. I just forgave him like a week ago." Jihyo stood up, walking over to place a quick kiss on Taehyung's lips as she ruffled his hair.
"I don't know, Ji. Think you should make him sweat it a little longer," Jungkook shrugged.
Taehyung threw an empty beer can at Jungkook. He laughed as he swatted it away. "I hope my friend has been nicer to you, Y/N, than he's being right now."
"Well, besides almost drowning me earlier, he's been pretty gentlemanly," You said, smiling as Jungkook palmed his face.
"Jungkook!" Nayeon yelled. "You're in the business of drowning tourists now."
"It was a misunderstanding." He explained. "I thought she was drowning, but she wasn't, and I may have made her accidentally inhale a bunch of pool water."
Taehyung was laughing hysterically as he began to reverse the boat off of the sandbar. "Kook, I promise there are better ways to start a conversation with a pretty girl like her than using the excuse that you thought she was drowning," He said with air quotes. "Which way am I going?"
Jungkook pointed in a direction. You weren't sure how he knew exactly where to go to end up back at where you were staying, but you guessed that was a perk of living in this town your whole life.
"I'm just going to exit that conversation," Jungkook whispered in your ear as the boat started off in the direction Jungkook had indicated. "But I do promise it wasn't on purpose."
"I don't know." You tapped your chin quizzically. "Maybe he has a point."
He made a sad expression, his head falling into your shoulder. "Ugh, not you ganging up on me too."
"I'm kidding." You giggled, pushing some of the wild strings of hair off his forehead.
He smiled up at you, placing a small kiss on your shoulder before sitting up straight again. "No rough driving, Tae," Jungkook said as the boat started to pick up speed.
Taehyung scoffed. "I'm a great driver. Don't believe him Y/N. He's just trying to make me look bad."
"Honey, I love you and all, but you're driving could use some work." Jihyo grimaced, shooting Taehyung (who you assumed was her boyfriend) an apologetic look.
"Unbelievable." Taehyung pouted. "Anyone else wanna throw in a jab while we're all at it?"
Everyone simply laughed as the boat picked up speed, making it hard to hear what anyone was saying over the wind. It felt nice though. The loud hum of the motor as the breeze blew against your skin. You hadn't been on a boat in a couple of years, and that was just a lake. Nothing like this.
Jungkook had his arm around your shoulder as you rode down the coastline. His hand squeezed your shoulder every time Taehyung drove over a particularly choppy wave. You'd only been riding for about ten minutes before Jungkook made a motion for Taehyung to slow down.
"Do you remember which house you're staying at?" He asked.
"Yeah, that light green one." You pointed.
Jungkook got up from his seat, walking back to where Taehyung was steering. Jungkook pointed at the same house you had showed him. Taehyung nodded, but then started to smile before whispering something in Jungkook's ear that you couldn't make out. Jungkook gave him an annoyed glare before lightly smacking him in the chest and returning to your side.
"I assume that was about me?" You asked, raising a curious brow.
It wasn't that you were offended that they were talking about you. After all, if one of my friends showed up with a random guy or girl I'd also probably make a playful comment or two.
"Yes, he said…" Jungkook trailed off, clearly not sure if he wanted to tell you.
"I won't be offended," You shrugged. "What? You hooked a nice piece of ass for the week. Something like that?"
Jungkook laughed, shaking his head. "No,no, he wouldn't say something like that when you were right here. Granted, he's probably thinking it." He paused, looking around awkwardly before continuing. "He said he was starting to worry if I was gonna end the summer on a dry spell."
"Dry spell?" You asked, confused. But before he could answer, the boat suddenly stopped not too far from the beach. You and Jungkook stood up, making your way to the ladder that led into the water. You turned to face everyone. "Thanks for the ride. Nice meeting you all."
"I'm sure we'll see you again," Jihyo said. "Hopefully we'll get to actually talk without Taehyung jerking us in every direction with his shit driving."
"Ji, you've been eliminated from the boat!" Taehyung yelled.
You couldn't help but giggle as you whispered, "Yeah, I'm looking forward to that."
You and Jungkook made your way down the ladder, the water you landed in coming just up to your knees.
"I'll be right back. I'm just walking her up. Don't try to leave me motherfucker." Jungkook narrowed his eyes at Taehyung who was grabbing his chin with a mischievous smile.
Once you were a little bit away from the boat you decided to bring back your question from earlier. "So what were you saying about a dry spell?"
Jungkook's head dropped slightly as you both continued walking towards the beach, face twisting as he tried to find the right wording. "Well, I'm sure you already assumed this, but obviously living here our whole lives, we've met lots of women who kind of just want to have a fun time while they're here on vacation."
You gave him a knowing look. "Yes, you would be correct. I did assume that."
Jungkook was an attractive guy, and you were sure he was the target of a lot of woman's desires when they noticed him while being here. Hell, you were one of them. So you weren't offended by this information, because it was something you had just assumed to be a fact.
"Well, I haven't been, uhm, partaking lately." He grimaced at the euphemism, but it made you choke with laughter.
"Jungkook, there's no need to be so polite about it. You have sex with a lot of woman who come here. I figured."
He pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting the smile that was trying to bubble to the surface from the ridiculousness of this conversation. "I know, but I'm not usually telling them specifics. It's just implied."
You understood what he meant. You imagined most people just wanted the fantasy of feeling special when they met someone on vacation. Like it was some sort of precious moment in time. You unfortunately were a bit too cynical for that.
"Well, you don't have to use the innocent intentions act with me. I'm aware of what this is." He was your distraction this week, and he was turning out to be a damn good one. The time you'd been with him today was the most you hadn't thought about grad school in months. "So, is your dry spell ending or not?" You decided to ask straightforwardly.
Jungkook's eyebrows shot up, mouth curving into a smirk at your words. His demeanor suddenly shifted. No longer was the man trying to act coy and flirtatious, now his eyes glinted deviously like you'd awoken something in him. You felt your blood burn hot as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. "You want me to fuck you that bad, huh, city girl?"
You fought back the whimper that wanted to rattle past your teeth before responding. "I don't know. Will you disappoint me?"
He pulled back, looking you in the eyes with an intensity so scalding you felt your lungs shudder. His gaze dipped to your mouth, your lips parting just out of sheer want, and Jungkook didn't seem to intend to deny you; his tongue slipping past your mouth as his hand found the back of your head, crushing you into a devastating kiss.
You moaned, hand wrapping around his chained necklace to pull him closer since he wasn't wearing a shirt for you to grab onto. He hissed, gripping your hair even harder. His tongue gently stroked yours, and you suddenly felt the sensation of another piercing that was not the one on his lip. You gasped, and you could feel the way he was smirking against your mouth at your surprise towards his pierced tongue.
Fucking Christ, how was it possible for him to be even hotter than before? Unfortunately, the kiss only lasted a couple of more seconds before Jungkook was pulling back, giving your bottom lip a tug with his teeth.
"Fuck," You whispered, thumb soothing your mouth as Jungkook stared down at you. His mouth was red and swollen, and goddammit you just wanted to pull him right back in.
He tilted his head, thumb grazing your cheek. "Will I disappoint you?" He asked your question back to you.
Your breaths were still coming out a little ragged as he waited, but even with just that little taste you knew the answer. "No, you won't disappoint me."
Jungkook smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow then? Meet you at the pool at five o'clock after I get off work?"
"Yeah, okay." You nodded, trying to shift your expression back to one of indifference, but that didn't last long as a familiar voice over a speaker began to crackle through the air.
"And ladies and gentleman, here we have two creatures in their natural environment partaking in a mating call involving a hot as fuck kiss."
Jungkook gritted his teeth, rolling his eyes as he threw a hand in their direction, silently telling them to cut it out. You found it kind of funny, however.
"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow, water boy." You started to slowly back your away from him, towards the house you were staying at. Trying to snap this magnetic pull that wanted to you to stand next to him forever.
"Oh, I've been demoted to water boy now?" He laughed, also starting to back away but towards the ocean.
"See you tomorrow, Jungkook." You waved, turning your back towards him before your body physically forced you to run over and tackle him into the sand to keep kissing him.
"I'll be there," He said simply before jogging the rest of the way back to the boat.
And as you made you way beneath the stilted house and towards the steps that led upstairs, your heart was racing with one singular thought: this was going to be a very interesting week.
— — —
DAY O2: SHARK TEETH OVER SEASHELLS
The next day moved at the pace of a muddy crawl. Breakfast with your parents. Walking up and down the beach. Lunch with your parents. Walking up and down the beach. An afternoon snack with your parents. Again, walking up and down the goddamn beach.
There was only so much you could do in this place when you didn't know anyone. Well, technically you did know someone now. Unfortunately, he had managed to morph your brain chemistry within the span of a couple of hours to become completely obsessed with him.
You rolled over on your bed, letting out a muffled scream into a seashell patterned pillow that matched the seashell patterned comforter and seashell pattered drapes. This room was starting to taunt you, with its perfectly themed decorations. Only because you knew there was so much out there that you could doing… that a certain someone could be showing you.
You opened your eyes, staring up at the ceiling fan as it spun around the room. Time passing as you let yourself drift back to yesterday. Being in that open water, walking along that sandbar, kissing him. God, you couldn't stop thinking about that kiss. It was only a couple of seconds but so fucking intoxicating.
You sat up immediately. No, you were not doing this. You were not going to waste time laying in this bed, thinking about a guy you had only known for a day. Absolutely not. Instead, you jumped up, shoving your feet into a spare set of sandals you had. Your flip-flops from yesterday still in Jungkook's backpack. When you opened the door to your room and made your way downstairs you found your parents standing in the kitchen making sandwiches.
“Honey, do you want one?” Mom asked, holding one in the air.
“No, I was actually gonna walk to that restaurant down the street.” You had noticed it on the drive in here yesterday. It wouldn’t take longer than ten minutes to get there by foot.
“Oh, yeah. What was it called again? The Rusty Pelican or something?” Your dad asked.
“Something like that.” You shrugged, not caring what it was called. You just knew it probably had a band and drinks, and that was what you could use to get your mind off the tattooed siren trying to consume your every thought.
“Thought you were meeting up with that cute young man you were telling us about yesterday?” You mom unknowingly brought up the very reason for your sudden departure.
“Yeah, but that’s still a couple hours from now. Just wanted to do something fun before then.” You weren’t even sure if you would qualify this as fun. It might end up being boring hell, but hey, you were trying here.
“Okay, be safe.” They both gave you a kiss on the cheek before you left.
You quickly made your way down the stairs and started on your walk to The Rusty Pelican. You weren’t sure if you liked that name, but it was just another thing in this town that fit the theme of where you were.
You were practically panting by the time you got there. That little ten-minute walk was a lot more brutal in beating sun than you had anticipated. There seemed to be a decent amount of people sitting on the outside deck. There was a band playing and lots of drinks flowing just as you had assumed there would be. You decided to sit down at the part of the bar that connected to the patio area, and through the large rectangular window you could see the inside where people were mingling and playing darts.
You turned your attention to the band playing in the back corner. It was a group of older gentleman, probably in their sixties, all wearing Hawaiian shirts and sunglasses. They were playing some sort of Bee Gees tribute from the sound of it. It was all exactly the sort of thing you expected. You wondered if that ever got boring to the people born here. Maybe that was what Jungkook meant yesterday when he’d told you that living here wasn’t all good. Though, you could say that about most cities or towns. The day to day never changed all that much.
“Need a drink, miss?” The question broke you from your thoughts about this place.
You turned back around to face the voice. The answer ‘yes’ almost formed, but your voice stuttered in your chest as you took in the man before you.
It was deja vu. The tattoos, the piercings, the gorgeous face. He was the same but different. Softer features and eyes that turned into amused crescents as you continued to stare at him for what was clearly an unnatural amount of time.
“Uhm, yeah.” You shook your head, clearing your shock away. “Mich Ultra, please.”
He smiled, winking at you. “Coming right up.” You watched as he grabbed a bottle out of a cooler, popping the top before sitting it down in front of you. You thought he was going to continue down the line of patrons next you to ask for their orders, but to your surprise he continued to stand in front of you. “So, how’s vacation going so far?”
“It’s my second day. Just decided to get out and see what there is to do around here.” You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant about this strange coincidence.
He nodded, scratching the back of his neck. “I know I work here and all, but there’s way more interesting things around here than this place, trust me.”
“Yeah, like what?” You asked, taking a sip of your beer.
He pursed his lips, mouth ticking into a slight smirk. “Could show you around after my shift if you want.”
You scoffed. This was truly unbelievable. The second time in two days a man had offered his services to you—probably with less than pure intentions. But at least Jungkook had attempted a conversation with you… Of course, it was after almost drowning you, but hey, semantics. You didn’t even know this guy’s name and he was already trying to get you to run off with him. Regardless, you already had someone who was haunting the corners of your mind.
“I’m busy—” You started to turn him down when a you were suddenly cut off.
“Sorry, Jimin. She’s taken.” It was a feminine voice that was vaguely familiar. You turned to see who it was, and to your surprise Jihyo was pulling out the seat next you and joining the conversation. “Hey, good seeing you again.” She leaned in, giving you a small hug that you returned.
“Ah, so which one of my friends was lucky enough to get your attention?” The bartender asked, whose name was apparently Jimin.
You laughed, because of course two people that looked like that in a place like this were friends. “Should’ve figured you knew each other. Same looks. Same tactics.”
Jihyo made a disgusted sound. “Jesus, Jimin. You were talking to her for all of two seconds and you were already trying something?”
Jimin threw his hands up in defense. “She—” He paused, looking slightly awkward. “I’m so sorry, and I know this doesn’t make me look any better… What’s your name?”
Jihyo tossed a wadded up napkin at Jimin’s head. “It’s Y/N, you fucking dog.”
You were honestly finding the situation extremely amusing. Being hit on my someone that looked like Jimin wasn’t exactly a negative, even if he was thinking about sex at the time. But hey, you couldn’t exactly blame him. You were in the same boat when it came to Jungkook at the moment.
“Hey, it’s fine. I really don’t care.” You attempted to calm the playful back and forth of them throwing things at one another while trying not to disturb the other customers.
“Good, would hate to tell Jungkook that you were completely turned off by him because his friends have no tact.” Jihyo gave Jimin a look when she said Jungkook’s name, and his eyes widened in response.
“Jungkook? Huh, so he's finally out of his little mood then." Jimin turned to look at you, giving you a sly smile. "Lucky girl."
"Wow, that's some high praise for him." You chuckled, surprised.
"Ah, so you guys haven't slept together yet," Jimin said, like it was a complete and undeniable fact. It made you half choke as you sipped your beer.
"And how are you so sure of that exactly?" You asked once you finally cleared all of the inhaled liquid.
"Because if you had you wouldn't be questioning my high praise." He shrugged.
Your eyes widened. "Wow, with how sure you sound, you make it seem like you've slept with him."
Jihyo busted out into insane laughter as Jimin made a disgusted face at your joke. She grabbed your shoulders shaking them, trying to catch her breath. "You do sound like a jealous ex-girlfriend right now, Jimin," She said, wiping a tear from her eye.
Jimin waved his hands back and forth, clearly denying your accusation. "I simply meant that I've heard so… Well, I've also seen so—but I was absolutely not the person he had his dick inside." He quickly added as you opened your mouth to make another quip.
You leaned back in your chair, mulling over what he'd just revealed. "So… a threesome then I assume is what you're implying.
"Jungkook's gonna kill me if he finds out we're taking about this." Jimin ran a hand down his face, but you could tell that he also found this line of questioning funny. Jihyo also seemed to be interested in how this conversation was going to to go.
"Oh, come on." You grabbed your drink, taking another sip. "I've known him for a day. Its not like I'm his girlfriend and this is some inappropriate conversation."
Jimin pursed his lips, tilting his head at your logic. "Fair."
"So tell me, Jimin." You leaned in closer to whisper. "How fast do you think Jungkook will be able to make me come?"
Jihyo half-screamed next to you. "Oh, my god! I literally love you. You're hilarious."
You couldn't keep up the serious face you were making, a grin slowly breaking across your lips as Jimin stared at you with his mouth agape.
"I'm kidding," You finally said. "I'll let it be a surprise."
Jimin smiled. "I can see why you're the one that's gotten him out of his little mood."
He turned to go ask other customers for their orders before you could ask what he meant by that. Yesterday, you and Jungkook had discussed his 'dry spell' or whatever he wanted to call it, but you hadn't gotten the chance to ask him the reason behind it. And apparently his hanging out with you was such a big deal that everyone who found out about it couldn't help but make a comment.
"Shots when you get a chance, Jimin." Jihyo suddenly yelled , and you watched as he gave a thumbs up. She turned back to you, practically beaming. "I'm so glad I ran into you here. I wanted to talk more on the boat yesterday, but the boys were in the way."
Jihyo seemed to have a very infectious way about her. If she was smiling you couldn't help but smile back. If she was laughing you couldn't help but laugh back, and apparently if she was taking shots you also couldn't help but partake with her. Because as the shots made by Jimin appeared in front of the two of you, they just as quickly disappeared.
"Me too," You finally responded after successfully not choking on whatever type of liquor had been poured into those glasses. "Sorry I didn't talk much yesterday. I was exhausted from all the swimming and the sun. I'm not used to it."
Jihyo waved your concerns off. "No, no, you're fine. Trust me, those boys are like fish. They were born here so they don't understand how tiring the water can be."
"Oh, you're not from here?" You asked. They all seemed so close, you assumed they'd all grown up together.
"No, my parents are older. They retired here when I was like fifteen. That's when I met everyone," She answered as Jimin set another round of shots down in front of you.
"Not sure if I should drink much more. I'm supposed to meet Jungkook in like two hours." Though, you had to admit you were having a good time and wouldn't mind continuing under different circumstances.
"Yeah, I totally get it." She grabbed both shots, handing one to you. "Last one?"
"Last one." You clinked your glasses together, downing that oh so addictive burn.
— — —
You weren't sure exactly what happened. Maybe after that second shot the logical part of your brain simply made way for the part that was enjoying all the fun you were having. Because at the moment you and Jihyo were currently heading a conga line around the bar, you're fifth, sixth (you weren't really sure), drink in your hand.
"Okay, let's sit down." You yelled over your shoulder to Jihyo, pointing at a table that was in front of the band.
"Yeah, sit down. I'll grab us some waters," She replied, hard to hear over all the music.
You nodded, practically collapsing into the chair as you passed by it. You really hadn't meant to continue drinking, but as you and Jihyo had continued to exchange stories about each other, it just kind of happened. You told her all about your worries of grad school. How you weren't sure if you were going to be happy. How you weren't sure if you were choosing the right path in life. While she admitted that she felt trapped in this place with her parents. She was the same age as you but knew that this place offered her no future. No job she could see herself having forever, but also feeling stuck because she didn't want to leave Taehyung who, just like Jungkook, seemed to want to die in this town. Her and Taehyung had been dating for a couple of years now, and she didn't know how to navigate her two polar opposite desires.
—So yeah, the two of you had gone a little overboard on the drinking. But hey, when you were talking about the heavy things in life, it was hard not to.
Jihyo eventually returned with the waters, and you immediately gulped down the entire thing in about two seconds. "That's better." You sighed, propping your elbows up on the table to hold your head.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't meant to make you drink so much." She frowned, looking genuinely apologetic.
You waved off her apology. "You didn't make me, and I'm fine. I promise I'm more buzzed than anything."
"Well, I still feel bad. How long until you're supposed to meet Jungkook?"
"About…" You glanced at the clock above the bar. "An hour."
"Oh, that's plenty of time to sober up." She stood up from her seat. "I'm gonna get us some more waters."
"Thanks. You're the best." You smiled, head slumping onto your shoulder.
She ruffled your hair and it made you relax further into the chair as you closed your eyes to wait for her to come back. The rowdy sounds of the afternoon vacationers surrounded you. It was strange, but the lack of silence was very peaceful to you. It always had been, ever since you were a kid. You let yourself get lost in the humming noise of conversation and glass bottles clinking, when a suddenly not so peaceful sound suddenly reverberated around you. The sound of a voice booming into a microphone next your ear startled you upright.
"Hey, no sleeping in paradise, young lady." It was the older singer from the band that had been playing since you got here. You gave him a sheepish smile, scratching at your head awkwardly. "Come on, let's get you awake!"
Your brows furrowed. "What—" Your question was cut short as he grabbed your hand, bringing you up onto the tiny stage that sat only a few feet away.
"How about a little impromptu karaoke everybody!" The singer yelled into the microphone, making the crowd cheer loudly.
Under normal circumstances you would've ran your ass right back to your chair, but you were tipsy, and you actually enjoyed singing and had been told you were very good at it over the years. All of the bars that hosted karaoke around your college had heard you on at least one occasion during a drunken night out with friends. Especially towards the end after you and your boyfriend had broken up. You had sang every song in the book about how badly that had went. So when he started singing a song that you were familiar with while handing you an extra microphone, you decided to just go with it.
You started singing with him, and you saw his eyes light up when he realized you could actually carry a tune. Everyone in the bar started to cheer, and it energized you further. The only time you could get up and sing like this was when you'd been drinking, never having the courage to do so while sober.
You continued on with the song, everyone starting to clap their hands in unison to the beat, and when you glanced down you saw Jihyo staring at you with her jaw hanging open and the waters in her hands. She set the cups down on the table and immediately started jumping up and down as she watched you.
"Yeah! Go, Y/N!" She yelled with her hands around her mouth.
You finished the final note, the singer who had dragged you up here giving you a big hug. "Now that's what time talking about! Who wants to follow up this lovely lady's performance!"
You jumped down from the stage, Jihyo immediately grabbing your shoulders in excitement. "You didn't tell me you could sing!"
"Only when I've been drinking." You shrugged.
"Well, if that's how you sound while drinking I couldn't image what you'd sound like sober." She handed you your water before looping her arm through yours and pulling you towards the bar that was way more packed than before.
People were holding their hands up to high five you for your performance, and you gave them all polite smiles as you passed. When the two of you finally managed to wedge your way in between the mass of people, Jimin was waiting on the other side.
"So, she's got a dirty mouth and she can sing." Jimin gave you a once over. "Jungkook may have found his match."
You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, just give me my tab. I gotta head back to my place to get ready."
Jimin shook his head. "No charge. Your performance was payment enough."
You scoffed. "Oh, come on. It was not that good."
"What're you taking about? You were awesome! Give yourself more credit." Jihyo shuffled around in her purse for a minute and threw a twenty dollar bill at Jimin. "Don't spent it all in one place, my friend." He did a little dance as he tucked the twenty into the waistband of his jeans, earning a laugh from you as Jihyo started pulling you towards the exit.
"That was a lot of fun," You said once the two of you found yourselves standing in the parking lot. "I'm glad I ran into you."
"Same! It was so fun. We have to hang out some more before you leave. But for now, let's walk you back to your place so you can get ready."
"It's like a ten minute walk there. You sure?"
"Of course. I can help you pick out something to wear." She did a little excited clap.
"That sounds great." You smiled, happy to meet someone like her while you were here.
The two of you started on the walk back to the beachhouse, and it was abundantly clear that you were both still extremely buzzed. You were a pair of walking hazards trying to stay up right as you made your way down the grassy path next to the road.
"God, it's so fucking hot." You panted, foot suddenly slipping as you fell ass first on the ground. Jihyo tried helping you but ended up falling herself. You both looked at each other in silence for a second before devolving into laughter.
"I don't know if we're gonna make it back in time," You said, when suddenly a truck that was passing pulled off onto the grass in front of you. It looked familiar, but all trucks looked the same to you for the most part, but when the door opened and the driver exited the vehicle, your heart began beating violently.
"Our knight in shining armor!" Jihyo beamed as Jungkook approached the two of you laying on the ground, an amused smile adorning his perfect face.
"Looks like you guys had fun." Jungkook knelt down next you, offering you a hand to help you sit up.
You dusted at the back of your head that was now probably covered in grass and dirt. You probably looked a complete mess right now. You silently cursed yourself for drinking so much.
"Yeah, I just went out for a beer or two, but, uhm, well you see how that worked out." You offered him an apologetic expression.
"It's okay," Jungkook said, pulling a twig out of your hair that you'd missed. "Ji tends to have that affect on people."
Jihyo scoffed next to you. "Hey, it wasn't me. It was Jimin."
Jungkook's jaw hardened slightly, but he still held a soft smile. "Ah, so you met Jimin. How'd that go?"
Normally you would've been more nonchalant, but the alcohol was making your tongue looser than normal. "Oh, you know. He just told me all about the adventurous threesomes you guys have had over the years. Nothing crazy." You shrugged, but Jungkook's eyes went wide, lips shifting into a thin line.
"I'm gonna kick his fucking ass when I see him." His eyes turning towards the direction of The Rusty Pelican.
"Hey, he also said some very nice things about you." Jihyo finally sat up next to you, grass and twigs still twisted in her hair as well. You reached over, taking some of them out.
Jungkook smacked his lips. "Oh, I'm sure. Like what?"
You couldn't stop the words from coming out of your mouth."That you had like the best dick ever, and I was going to enjoy myself very much." You paused. "Yeah, he said something like that."
Jungkook's annoyance disappeared almost instantly, laughter suddenly bubbling past his throat. "I don't believe he said that."
"Well, maybe not in such specific words, but he definitely implied it," You said.
"It's true. I was there." Jihyo leaned in, defending your story.
Jungkook pursed his lips, once again looking back in the direction of the bar. "Well, Jimin may be an oversharing jackass at times, but he isn't a liar at least."
You raised a brow at him. "About you having the best dick ever part or the me enjoying myself part?"
He leaned in slightly. "Don't worry. You'll find out soon."
You felt your breath catch, your eyes flitting down to his lips. You just wanted to have his tongue inside your mouth like yesterday. You almost closed the distance in your drunken haze when Jihyo broke the tension.
"Hm, this is kind of hot." She stood up, dusting off the dirt from her outfit. "Jungkook, take me to Tae's before you go to Y/N's."
Jungkook pulled you both up by your hands, steadying you as you wobbled slightly. "I obviously wasn't going to leave you on the side of the road."
"Perfect!" Jihyo ran to Jungkook's truck, opening the back door and jumping inside.
You and Jungkook were alone for the first time since yesterday. You were suddenly self-conscious now that Jihyo's bubbly personality was no longer a buffer. The things you'd just said to him and the situation he'd found you in suddenly making you feel flustered.
"Uhm, I'm sorry about this. I wasn't planning on drinking that much, and… ugh, this is really embarrassing." You hid your face in your hands, trying to muffle the shame.
However, Jungkook pulled your hands down, forcing your chin up to look at him. "Hey, it's fine. You had fun. Nothing wrong with that."
You gave him a small smile. "Okay."
He pressed his hand to the small of your back as he led you to the passenger's side door. He opened it and urged you inside before rounding the vehicle to jump into the driver's side. When you looked into the backseat, Jihyo was already laying down fast asleep.
— — —
Taehyung's house hadn't been that far from where Jungkook had found you and Jihyo. Jungkook got out to help Taehyung get her inside, both of you saying your goodbyes in the process. You really hoped you got to hang out with her again before you left.
It was about a half hour later when Jungkook was pulling back into your place. The pool where this whole thing had started came into view. You both got out of the truck, Jungkook grabbing his backpack from yesterday off the floorboard of his backseat.
"I got your stuff by the way. Flip-flops and sand dollars." He patted the bag.
"Thanks." You motioned towards the house you were staying in off in the distance. "I have to take a shower and change. Do you wanna come in while you wait?"
"Hm, having me meet the parents already," Jungkook joked, throwing an arm around your shoulder as you started walking.
You groaned. "I'm praying they won't be there, but I have a feeling I won't be that lucky."
"Why're you hoping they won't be there?" He asked, quirking a brow to insinuate your hopeful wishes were for less than saintly reasons.
You bit the inside of your cheek, not falling for his bait. "They just have no filter," You said simply.
"Well, I would hope not when it comes to the stranger hanging around their daughter. But also, if they are here, try to act like you haven't been drinking. Wouldn't want them to think I got you drunk just to sleep with you in this nice house they're paying for." He nipped at you earlobe, making you squeal.
You removed the key from your pocket to open the front door. "Well, maybe we won't have to even deal with it at all. They might be gone for dinner already." However, when it swung open, both of your parents stood on the other side, looking like they had just been ready to leave. You felt yourself sober up completely.
Dammit. So close.
"Uh, hey. You guys going out to eat?" You asked as Jungkook's arm dropped from your shoulder, his posture straightening out.
"Yes," Your dad answered, approaching the two of you as he adjusted the cuffs on his long sleeved shirt. "And you must the boy that Y/N mentioned yesterday."
"Yes. Jungkook, sir." He reached his hand out, shaking your dad's hand.
You wanted to shrivel inside your skin. You knew you were an adult, but things like this never got less awkward. And this wasn't even a boyfriend you were introducing, this was just a fun summer fling, and they both knew it.
"Well, he's certainly as handsome as you said." Your mom joined in, mortifying you further.
"Thank you, ma'am." Jungkook looked down at the floor shyly, but you could see the way he was grinning from ear to ear.
"At least this one has manners, unlike that last one. He who shall not be named." She grabbed her chin, looking at Jungkook with a bit more scrutiny. "Actually, he kind of looks like him, doesn't he, honey?"
You palmed your face, even though you had also thought the same thing at first, but not before you saw Jungkook give you a look of piqued interest at your mother's comment. You couldn't believe you were talking about your penchant for men with pretty faces and tattoos right now.
"Okay, have fun at dinner, guys." You grabbed Jungkook's arm, trying to force him towards the stairs up to your room, but he seemed to have different ideas as he held firm in his stance in front of your parents.
"I know you guys probably have your concerns about Y/N hanging out with a stranger in a place you guys aren't familiar with, but I promise she's in good hands. I won't let anything happen to her." Jungkook held a serious face as he faced your parents.
You couldn't help but be thankful as he said that. Even though your parents held a pretty lackadaisical attitude, you knew they still worried.
"We appreciate that," Your mom said, placing a hand on Jungkook's shoulder.
"Oh, I also have a gift for you, from me and Y/N." He started unzipping his backpack, pulling out the sand dollars from yesterday handing them to your mom.
"Oh, wow. Where'd you get all these?" She asked, shuffling through the dozen or so that you had found yesterday.
Jungkook motioned towards you. "Y/N got them when I took her to the sandbar yesterday."
"Wait." Your dad's eyes widened in surprise. "You got her to go out into the ocean? She's petrified of it. How'd you manage that?" He asked, looking genuinely impressed that someone was able to make you overcome your fear.
"Lots of patience." Jungkook chuckled, your dad laughing along with him.
"Well, alright then." He reached out, shaking Jungkook's hand once more. "You better watch out for her."
"Yes, sir." Jungkook nodded, his expression once again serious.
"Okay, honey. Let's go. We're already late." Your mom chimed in, motioning towards the front door. "It was lovely meeting you, Jungkook. You seem like a nice young man."
"Thank you. It was nice meeting you guys as well." He gave them a polite smile as they grabbed their car keys off the table and finally left, the door closing behind them.
You let out a breath that you hadn't realized you'd been holding. "That went just as poorly as I'd imagined it would."
"Really? I thought it went well," Jungkook said as he began to walk around the house. "I also got to learn some interesting stuff about you. Like the fact that you apparently have a type." He turned towards you, his face amused as he motioned towards himself.
You rolled your eyes, pulling at his shirt to get him to follow you to your room upstairs. "Yes, it's an unfortunate character flaw."
You really wished your mother hadn't brought him up. You and your ex-boyfriend had dated for two years, but broke up earlier this year. He said that long distance wasn't going to be feasible for him after you got your acceptance to grad school. You had been sad, but also kind of… relieved? You knew he wasn't the best person. He had rude and narcissistic tendencies. Your parents had never been a fan because of this. You had just felt stuck when it came to him, so when he ended it, you didn't feel the need too argue. Though it did upset you that he had ended it so simply, as if you were just some placeholder he'd held onto during college.
"Hm, guy really did a number on you, huh?" Jungkook asked, following you into your room as you made it to the top of the stairs. "We're not all bad though. Promise."
"Yeah, I see you're quite the charmer when it comes to parents." You walked over to the mirror, straightening out some of your flyaway hairs. You watched in the reflection as Jungkook laid on your bed, shirt hiking up around his ribs. You bit the inside of your lip at the sight. "So, what do you have planned for me today? More ocean adventures?" You asked, turning back to face him.
He flipped on his side, propping his head up with one of his hands. "No, I figured I'd give you a break after yesterday. I thought I'd go for something more relaxing."
You sat down next to him on the bed, his hand finding the top of your thigh. You glanced down at it. "And what is this relaxing activity?"
Jungkook smirked, lifting himself up so that his face lingered right in front of yours. "You already seem to have something in mind."
You tried to act coy, shrugging. "No idea what you're talking about."
He leaned in closer, his breath fanning over your lips. "Okay, then. Since you have nothing on your mind, I won't kiss you like yesterday. You can just go take your shower." He flopped back down on the bed, putting his hands behind his head as he closed his eyes.
You scoffed. Oh, this was absolutely not how this was going to go. Him making you seem like you wanted him so desperately while he simply went along with it.
You immediately went to straddle him, throwing your legs on either side of his thighs. His eyes snapped open in surprise, hands settling on your hips. You shifted forward and grabbed his jaw. His breathing was instantly heavier, and you could feel his dick getting hard beneath you—Well, that didn't take long. But you had to physically force yourself not to grind against him. Which was being made much more difficult by the fact that Jungkook was attempting to pull you back and forth over his length by your waist. You squeezed his face harder, and you could feel the vibrations of the groan clamoring up the back of his throat. You leaned in closer, and he tried lifting his head up from the bed to crash his mouth against yours, but you held him down firmly. You smiled as a pleading expression started to form in his eyes.
Perfect.
You forced his face to the side, your lips brushing against the piercings that lined the shell of his ear. "Who has something on their mind now, hm?"
You jumped off of him, noticing the wild expression as you slipped from his grasp. You went straight into the bathroom that was inside of your room and closed the door. Your heart was beating fast. You knew that you had put on that little performance for your own sake, but you were starting to think that it had backfired. You felt the tingling rush in your lower belly, and all you really wanted to do was go back out there and get back on top of him; preferably with less material between the two of you. But you pushed that feeling away, reaching for the shower handle to turn on the hot water before removing all of your clothes.
You didn't want to take too long, so you washed quickly. You scrubbed all the sweat and dirt off from being at the bar earlier, and the steam cleared any excess haze you had from the alcohol. Once you felt like you were finally clean you stepped out, wrapping a towel around your body. It was only then that you realized your mistake.
In your rush to get into the bathroom after teasing Jungkook, you had forgotten to grab a change of clothes. Fuck. You shook your head, no this was fine. He'd seen you less clothed yesterday at the beach. It wasn't a big deal, but you still felt awkward as you opened the door. Jungkook was still laying on the bed, his eyes immediately roaming up and down your damp body.
You ignored his stares, but you still felt his eyes burning a hole in your back as you turned to rummage through the dresser that held the clothes you'd brought for the week. You were holding up a couple of different shirt options when a sudden sensation running up the bare skin of your back shocked you into dropping them on the floor.
Your head snapped up, breath tangling in your lungs as you saw Jungkook's body behind you in the mirror. His head was slowly rising up between your shoulder blades, and you realized the cool, wet feeling along your skin was him dragging his pierced tongue up the curve of your spine. You couldn't stop yourself from whimpering as his eyes slowly revealed themselves over your shoulder. They were staring at you with such lustful intent, and you wanted so badly for him to take it out on you.
Your breathing went erratic as he snaked a hand into your hair, pulling it so that the side of your neck was exposed for him to continue his path up your body. He stopped as his mouth hovered over your ear.
"That was mean, you know," He whispered, wrapping his other hand that wasn't in your hair around you stomach to pull you against him. You hissed at the feeling of his cock pressed against your lower back. "Getting me hard and running away like that."
You swallowed, your mouth completely dry. You wanted to try and reply with a steady voice. "I was just getting back at you for teasing me."
Jungkook spun you around, and the reflection from the mirror had not been doing justice to the way that he was looking at you right now. His fingers played at the edge of your towel, pulling it slightly before it completely dropped to the ground and left you completely naked before him. His eyes raked over you, nostrils flaring as he took in the sight of you completely bare before him.
You were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were the only vulnerable one in this situation. Jungkook was still completely clothed. "Don't you think it's a little unfair that I'm the only one naked?"
He looked at you again, taking a break from his scowering of your body. "That just means you're going to be the one that gets to come. Doesn't that sound fair?"
You suddenly felt hot at the description of your apparently impending orgasm from Jungkook. You only managed to nod your head, and it made him smirk as he stepped closer, placing both hands on either side of your face. Your breath hitched as he leaned in, placing a kiss against your mouth before pulling back just an inch. He stayed there, the playful glint in his eyes seeming to say, 'if you want this you're going to have to come to me now.'
You didn't hesitate to close the gap, wrapping your arms around his neck as you crushed your lips against his. The gentleness he'd pecked you with earlier was extinguished by the caress of your tongues as he yanked you back and laid you flat on the bed. His mouth moved to your neck, and his teeth grazed at the skin of your shoulder, sending a wave of electricity straight to your center. You gripped the back of his shirt, making your realize that something needed to change.
"Take off your shirt at least. I don't wanna be the only one naked." You yanked the fabric up stomach.
He sat up, pulling the shirt over his head and throwing it onto the floor. The sight of him looming over your body made you quiver, arms shaking as you forced yourself to sit up on your elbows.
He smirked, one of his hands reaching down to squeeze the top of your thigh. "I think you just wanna watch me shirtless while I eat your pussy."
That was exactly what you wanted actually. To watch his back flex while he had his head between your legs—but you weren't going to tell him that. "If you do it well enough then I shouldn't even have the energy to look down at you… I've heard your pretty good with your dick, but maybe you're not very skilled in this area." You quirked a brow a brow, shrugging your shoulder.
However, Jungkook's face shifted, and suddenly he was pulling your hips down the bed, your head falling flat against the mattress. He leaned down, face hovering above yours for a moment. He placed one hand by your head, the other cradling the side of your face. He used him thumb to coax your jaw open, and your breath hitched as he slid his tongue inside of your mouth.
The kiss from yesterday had been intense but quick. It was something done in the midst of a goodbye, no time for anything extra. This… This was different. Slow, languid movements that had you threading your hands into his hair to keep him in place. You didn't want him to stop. You wanted that controlled and steady brush of his tongue to go on forever, and you realized that was what he was trying to show you. It had been a joke, you insinuating that maybe he wasn't good at going down on someone. You knew he was probably good at it. But right now he was showing you everything that he was going to do to you between your thighs while he was inside of your mouth. The thought of it had to squeezing your legs together, and you could feel how wet your already were as you began to squirm. This went on for another minute or so, and you knew that he wasn't going to move his attentions to where you wanted unless you ended this kiss. He wanted to make you admit it. God, this man was killing you.
Eventually, you pushed him away. Your breathing grew heavy as you stared at the way his lips had turned red and glistening. "Okay, you win. You're good at that too."
Jungkook smiled. "Good girl."
He gave you a quick peck before he disappeared from above you, and your legs were suddenly being pulled over his shoulders. You sucked in a shaky breath as you felt him mouth his way up the inside of your thighs. He was torturing you, slowly making his way towards your center until you were fisting the covers as you waited. The longer it went on the tighter you squeezed.
Finally, you couldn't take it anymore. "Please—" You were going to resort to begging, but just as you said the word you felt the cool brush of his tongue along your clit. The sensation from his jewelry made you tense up, your thighs immediately trying to trap him there.
You could feel him chuckle against you as he forced your legs back apart. "I'm not going anywhere. I got you this fucking wet I'm gonna fix it for you," He promised before his mouth was back on you.
"Fuck, that's feels so good," You whispered, back arching off the bed as you grabbed the hair on the back of his head, urging him along in his movements. He groaned, the vibrations making you press your yourself harder against his mouth.
One of his hands traveled along your lower stomach, and he used his palm to press down gently, the extra pressure inside of you making your eyes screw shut. You didn't think it could feel any better until you felt the brush his fingers from his other hand caressing at your entrance. You were so wet. His finger slid inside of you and your mouth fell open as you bucked against him, trying to get it to go deeper. But he held you down with a growl as he added a second finger, an your legs almost instantly began to shake on top of him.
It took every ounce of resolve you had to lift your head up so that you could look down at the man currently devouring you. You felt the instant punch to your gut as you watched him work between your legs, licking you in every place that you needed him to, never straying from a spot that wouldn't make your toes curl. Every time his piercing slid against you clit you felt yourself getting closer and closer.
Jungkook glanced up, and your expression must of been of someone fucked out of their mind, because his movements slowed down as his eyes darkened, like he wanted to just flip you over and fuck you face first into the sheets. You also wanted that, and you almost hoped he'd do it. But instead he started to suck at your clit with light flicks of the tip of his tongue, and your head instantly fell back against the bed.
"F-fuck, I'm gonna c-come. Gonna come." Your hold in his hair was pulling even tighter now and you felt him hum as he continued to break you down. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop."
He didn't deny you. He kept going, fingers still pumping inside of you as you finally felt that building pressure snap and your lower belly convulse beneath his palm. You let out a high pitched whine as your hips lifted off the bed, your legs sliding down Jungkook's shoulders as he sat up. He ran his hands up and down your thighs, but your eyes were still squeezed shut as you tried to find some sort of control over your breathing again.
Eventually you were able find some minute amount of strength to sit up, but your body felt weak as you did so. You looked up, and Jungkook was staring down at you, patiently waiting for you to level out. But all you were focused on was the dripping wetness of your arousal still shining around his mouth and chin. His lips were swollen, and you couldn't stop yourself from crawling towards him on your hands and knees before throwing your arms around his shoulders to kiss him.
It wasn't like the one before where he was being slow with intent as he showed you the way he was going to eat you out. Which, truly hadn't even compared to the actual act you had just experienced. Instead, this kiss was messy and desperate. You could taste yourself on his tongue as your nails scratched into the back of his neck while his hands tangled in your hair.
You forced yourself to pull away after you lapped away all of the your wetness from his mouth and face. "You're gonna do that to me again, right?" You asked, practically panting. "Before I leave?"
Jungkook grinned, pushing a strand of wild hair behind your ear. "Oh, I plan on doing that to you over and over and over again before you leave." He placed a kiss on your lips. "But not just with my mouth."
You looked down between your bodies, and your eye widened. You could see the way his cock was tented against his gym shorts, the stretchy material leaving nothing to the imagination of how fucking big he was. You felt your core swell with that feeling of want once again. You started imagining how well he could fuck you with it when he tapped your chin forcing you to look at him again.
"Trust me, I want to." He paused, licking his lips as he stared down at your face like he also truly wanted it just as badly. "But once I start with you I'm not stopping, and I'd really prefer your parents not come home in the middle of you screaming while I make you come."
You felt yourself groan at the idea of him forcing yells of pleasure from you, but shivered in horror at the idea of your parents accidentally hearing it.
"Yeah, I guess you're right." But you found yourself glancing down at his cock once again, still completely hard. "Do you want me to…" You trailed off, not sure why you were being coy about the idea of returning the favor by giving him head after he'd just had his tongue and fingers all over you.
He shook his head, but you saw the way his dick twitched inside of his pants. "I told you earlier, you're the one who's naked, so you're the one that gets to come."
His words suddenly made you realize that you were in fact still completely naked. It was stupid but you suddenly felt yourself covering yourself slightly with your hands.
He laughed, standing from the bed and facing away from you. "Would you prefer if I turned around while you got dressed?"
"Haha, very funny," You said as you climbed off the bed as well.
"Wear something comfortable. Like sweats and a hoodie. I'm taking you down to the beach out front, and it's only like an hour till sunset so it shouldn't be too hot." He was still facing away from you, letting your dress in private. It was strange, he had a dirty mouth, but then he would do things like turn around while you changed after giving you an orgasm. It was odd, but kind of sweet at the same time.
You followed his suggestion, fishing out an oversized hoodie and some sweatpants. You put the items on quickly. "Alright, I'm decent. But not like you haven't seen everything at this point." Jungkook faced you again, his dick slightly softer but definitely still visible. You pointed at it. "You're going to scare the children, you know."
He chuckled, sticking his hand down his pants and tucking it into the waist band of his boxers you assumed. He brought his fingers into the air, wiggling them. "Magic." You snorted, watching as he grabbed a hoodie from his backpack that he'd discarded on the floor earlier. He slipped it over his head, and then walked over to you and grabbed your hand. "You ready?"
"Yeah, ready."
You interlocked your fingers with his, and he led you downstairs. Both of you headed for the backdoor and down the steps that went towards the beach.
"So are you showing me anything interesting today, or is this just a post-coital romantic walk?" Jungkook laughed as he guided you closer to the shoreline. He knelt down in front of you, pulling the legs of your loose sweatpants up to the middle of your calf. "What're you doing?"
He stood up. "We're going on a hunt for shark teeth, darling."
Your eyes widened as he turned to walk away, looking down at the sand as the waves lapped at his bare feet. Both of you opting to leave your shoes inside. "Shark teeth?"
He bent down, picking something up out of the sand. He held it up in front of you. It was a small, black triangle. "Mhm, like this."
Jungkook placed it in the palm of your hand. You poked at it with your finger. "Is this really a shark tooth?"
"It's millions of years old, but yes, it's real." He put his hand in your lower back, ushering you down the beach. "It's a tiny one, but you can find pretty big ones sometimes. They have so many teeth so they're pretty much all over the shoreline here."
" You know, you're really not helping the case for me getting back in that water this week. Showing me evidence of all of the creatures that could eat me."
He pointed at a place in the ground, and you leaned down to pick it up. "These guys have been dead a long time. They're not gonna give you any trouble."
This tooth was a little bigger than the last, maybe the size of a nickel. "Their offspring might revolt at me stealing their ancestors body parts though."
Jungkook laughed hard, doubling over. "I know I told you this before, but you really are funny, you know that?"
"Thank you. Now you can say you aren't just sleeping with me for my good looks." You flipped your hair dramatically, leaving him behind as you continued down the beach to search for more teeth.
Jungkook stayed a little bit behind you, looking around for any that you may miss. It was hard to notice them when they were surrounded by distracting shells of all colors and shapes. You picked up one that was cream colored with maroon stripes. You turned it over it your hand. It reminded you of all the shell-themed decorations in your room. It was pretty for sure, but also so… typical? You weren't sure if that was the right word. But in the end, you threw it to the side, deciding that the hunt for the teeth of the things that you had always feared was much more interesting.
You wondered around for a little while, finding a couple more of those elusive triangles in the sand, when you suddenly saw something sticking up from the wet sediment beneath your feet. You leaned down, digging around and you finally were able to pull it out.
"Oh, my god! This was one's fucking huge!" You yelled, waving it in the air. Jungkook jogged over to you, an impressed look on his face as he took in the shark tooth that was the size of your palm.
"Damn, that's a keeper for sure," He said, putting it into his pocket.
You scoffed, reaching for it. "Hey, I'm the one that found it."
He laughed, pushing your hand away. "Calm down. You'll get it back, sweetheart. I'm just gonna do some stuff to it first."
You narrowed your eyes. "Okay, but you better not be lying."
"Never." He threw an arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Come on, let's go sit up on that hill. The sun's about to set."
You nodded. "Okay."
Once you guys managed to make it through the sliding sand, both of you giggling as you tried to stop the other from falling, Jungkook sat down, pulling you to sit in between his legs. He flipped the hood of your jacket up before pulling you back to lay your head on his chest. It felt comfortable in a way that it shouldn't for someone you'd known for so little time.
You glanced out at the ocean, the orangey-red sky bursting with color as it refracted through the clouds. It was beautiful, the sky slowing darkening around all that light.
"This is probably something even someone who lives here forever never gets tired of, right?" You asked, bending your neck to look up at him.
"You'd be correct. This is one thing about this place that never gets old." He smiled as he looked out at the sunset.
You couldn't help but admire how beautiful he was. The glow of the fading sun cascaded over his face, the the scent of the salty breeze blowing through his hair.
You kept watching, and the corner of his lips tilted upwards as he leaned down to whisper against your ear. "You're missing the sunset, you know?"
"That's okay." You twisted your body, pressing your mouth against his for a brief moment.
His hand ghosted against your jaw as you pulled away. His eyes searching your face. "Can I ask you a question?" You nodded. "When I found you yesterday at the pool. You said you were just trying to find a place where you didn't have to think. I was just curious what it was exactly?"
You didn't expect that. Honestly, you had been so consumed by everything here for the past two days that you truly hadn't been thinking about all of your worries. You sighed, laying your head back against his chest. You weren't good at eye contact when you were talking about your feelings, so you opted to use the sunset as your scapegoat.
"It's stupid…" You trailed off. "I'm gonna sound ungrateful, but I'm moving across the country in a couple of weeks for grad school, and I'm just… I'm scared." You shrugged.
"Why're you scared?" He put his arms around you, locking his hands in front of you.
"I don't know. This has always been the plan since my first year in college, and I actually accomplished it. But now that it's actually happening, the idea of leaving everything behind to start over is kind of terrifying. Or what if I don't like it? This job I've decided is gonna be for the rest of my life… Like I said it's stupid." You squirmed as you started to feel awkward with your confession.
"It's not stupid," He replied. "Leaving behind places you're familiar with is scary."
You were silent for a moment, mulling over something that you also wanted to know. "Can I ask you a question too?"
"Mhm, anything."
"Is that also the reason you said you were probably never going to leave this place?" You asked, and he didn't answer at first. You sat patiently, waiting for him to find the proper wording.
Eventually, you felt him take a deep breath beneath your resting head. "That is something I've had to think about a lot in the last six months."
"Is this about the 'mood' people say you've been in lately?" You asked, remembering Jimin's comment from earlier.
He laughed. "I assume Jimin said that."
You nodded. "Yeah, sorry."
"No, it's okay. They were all understanding the first couple of months, but it's been a while now so my moping probably has gotten a little old at this point." Jungkook shrugged.
You turned around to face him. The sky was getting darker, not too much longer before the sun completely disappeared.
"Can I ask what happened?" You played at the string of his hoodie, twisting it beneath your fingers as he stared at you.
He cleared his throat, pulling his hood over his head. "This is gonna sound lame, but me and my girlfriend broke up."
You couldn't help your surprised expression. "You had a girlfriend?"
He laughed, clearly amused at your shock at the idea of him being tied down. "Yes, I do actually have the ability to not seduce every pretty tourist I come across."
You felt your face heat up, but ignored it. "So, what happened between the two of you?"
He smile turned into a thin line, looking like he was still pondering the reason himself. "We only dated for about a year. She moved here for a job, but decided this place wasn't for her. She wanted to move to the city. I didn't. Impassable difference."
That reminded you of what Jihyo had been telling you at the bar earlier that day. How she had desires to move to somewhere with more opportunities, but she knew Taehyung would never want to leave his hometown. Seemed it was the same for Jungkook.
Both of you held forlorn expressions as the sky continued to darken around you. You reached for his hands, holding them in yours. "Looks like we're both scared of change, huh?"
"Seems that's only me actually. You're still moving across the country even though you're scared."
That was true. You knew you were going there no matter how badly the idea made your chest feel like it was concaving. "Yeah, but just because someone you love asks you to do something doesn't mean you have to do it. If you love this place, then why should you leave?"
He leaned back, his fingers digging into the sand. "Yeah, but then I do have to deal with consequences of people I care about leaving when I won't."
You pursed your lips. "Yeah, can't really help you there, bud."
Jungkook laughed, leaning in to ruffle the top of hood. "Did you just call me bud?"
You started into a fit of screaming giggles as he tickled your sides. You rolled over in the sand, jumping up to run down the beach. He chased after you, both of falling you into a fit of hysterics as he caught you. His arms wrapped around you stomach but you both suddenly crashed to the ground as the ground shifted beneath his feet.
You both turned to face each other with wide grins. You tuned on your side, cradling the side of his face as he did the same to yours.
"I don't know if this is something I should say, but I'm glad you stayed and that I got to meet you." You bit your lip, feeling guilty that something that was causing him so much turmoil was the reason you were getting to experience this.
He didn't seem angry about your words, however. Instead he moved closer, pressing a brief kiss to your mouth. "And I'm glad that I got to meet you before you moved away."
You both turned to lay on your backs in the sand. You stayed like that for a while, talking about your lives as you stared up at the stars.
It seemed your distraction for the week had needed you just as desperately.
Pairing: Army General!Taehyung x Royal Healer!Reader
Genre: Romance, Smut
Warnings: plot <3, asshole kings who i wanna punch, their marriage is a really supportive union, aloof!Taehyung who doesn't hides his feelings with her, he is the cutest husband ever omfg, healed!Taehyung who wants her, drinking together, she is a cute drunk and he is a goner, very stuck-up!Reader, she listens to a dirty story and gets soo flustered, making-out, neck kisses, sex-starved!Taehyung, soft Dom!Taehyung, inexperienced!Reader, public sex in an alleyway, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, strength kink, dry humping, female orgasms, oh lordd this is such a sin in their time, this is not historically accurate, for real let's ignore that this would not have been possible in historical clothing fjdfja, did i mention that he is starved for her?, and that his fingers do sinful things?, his hands besties his hands i need milk
Wordcount: 16.2k | Minors DNI you will be blocked & reported
a/n: last week i gave you fluffy angst or angsty fluff?, this week i give you plot with filth. there is one line tae says in this chapter that affected me so deeply i needed to put my phone down for a while. i don't think you besties understand just how starved being at the frontline left him. leave some comments my besties, i love to hear you yell ❤
Taehyung sits in the courtyard with the other soldiers, playing a round of yut. They get along well, chatting like friends. A few empty bowls of makgeolli surround them, but they all seem clear-headed. It must have been just one drink each. You know them by name these days. Hoseok, Namjoon, Jimin and Jungkook. Jimin returned unscathed, while Namjoon, Hoseok and Jungkook were your patients. They begin to nudge each other as you approach them and one by one they rise to their feet to bow deeply. Except for Jungkook who has to stay seated.
“Good day, Mistress Healer.”
“A good day, Mistress Healer.”
“Greetings, Mistress Healer.”
A choir of enthusiastic greetings welcomes you. You give them a smile and a slight bow of your head. It really moves your heart to see all of them so well. You remember how they arrived at the infirmary, wounded and broken, and rejoice in how their health improved. It is days like today where you are glad to be a healer.
“Who is winning?” you ask, analysing the game board.
“Aaah that. Jungkook, but he is definitely cheating”, Namjoon says.
“How am I to cheat? It is impossible!”
“You somehow are!”
“You are a liar and you know it.”
“I am not. You-”
“Be solemn”, Taehyung stops their bickering from escalating, “Mistress ___ probably has a reason to approach us and we should allow her to speak.”
“Yes, General”, they say in a solemn choir. “Forgive us, Mistress.”
“Actually, it is you I wish to talk to”, you say to Taehyung, making the other soldiers whisper to each other. Taehyung ignores them.
“Of course”, he says, pointing at the path behind you.
You walk a few steps together. The others watch excitedly like giddy teenagers waiting for one of their friends to ask out their sweetheart.
“You may speak.”
“May I invite you to dinner tonight?”
Taehyung’s eyes widen. Your question comes unexpectedly, flustering him.
“I, uhm.” He clears his throat. “Forgive me. Mhm. Of course.”
“Wonderful. Then I shall expect you at eight in my chambers.”
His eyes widen even further. He laughs breathily, tugging at the collar of his hanbok. His ears flush and he seems unable to stand still.
“Sire?”
“Forgive me. Yes, you can expect me then.”
“Perfect. Now if you will excuse me, I have to return to the hospital. Until later.”
He bows rather clumsily, letting you leave before he is able to find what to say. He returns to the others when you are already too far away.
“What did she want?”
“Did she ask you for a meeting?”
“Will you finally do something as husband and wife? I heard taking a walk together is very popular these days.”
“You could hold her hand then, General”, Jungkook says, snickering with the others.
“I won’t entertain your prying questions. You are being impossible. Whose turn is it?” Taehyung says, trying to hide his flushed cheeks as best as possible.
His comrades snicker, nudging him brotherly. They have long figured out their general and Taehyung simply has to take the teasing. He looks at the now empty path, calming his racing pulse with deep breaths.
Taehyung checks his appearance one last time, then finally leaves his chambers. He is nervous. There is no beating around it. Tonight marks exactly three months and four days ever since Taehyung’s division returned from the colonies. It seems like a very short time in the grand scheme of things, but Taehyung’s life changed drastically within this time. He improved both physically and mentally, and changed in ways he never thought capable of changing. He can actually fall asleep these days and wake up without pain. He also learned to be gentle and soft, and relearned at least some amount of etiquette. He is proud of his achievements, but most of all he is grateful for you. You really helped him, giving him strength where he least expected it and he cannot keep it a secret any longer: Taehyung grew to adore you. So much in fact that the walk to your chambers makes him incredibly nervous.
He went to the royal bath houses just in case and even perfumed himself. He has no idea what to expect and it is making the anticipation unbearable. He wonders if you noticed his lingering stares whenever you passed each other and he wonders if tonight you will act on them. He dares not to think it, but Taehyung would really want this to happen.
Your room is located only two doors south from his’. Because of your status as first royal healer, you are allowed to sleep in the nobles’ wing, and because it also meant that the king can always call for you if needed. He mostly calls you for foot massages, which Taehyung still despises him for.
He stops in front of your door and knocks. Your shadow moves behind the screen, inching closer to him. The door slides open. Vanilla, jasmine and a faint hint of lavender meets his nose. You smell divine.
And you are beautiful.
“Good evening, Sire”, you greet him with a smile. Taehyung cannot look away, stumbling for his words.
“Good, uhm, good evening, Mistress”, he says and presents a bouquet of healing flowers to you.
“For me?”
“Yes.”
“But those are medicinal flowers. How did you know?” You accept them with your smile growing. “Thank you, Sire.”
“Of course”, he says, fighting a smile. It was a good idea to ask one of the healers to make him a list of medicinal flowers.
“Please come in. These flowers will be so helpful. How did you know which ones to pick?”
“I have a keen eye.”
“You truly do. This is wonderful. Please get comfortable. I shall ring for the servants.”
You get comfortable as well after ordering the servants to bring dinner. You seem very excited tonight, smiling at him even now. Taehyung is mesmerised.
“Did you have a good day?” he asks, burning to hear your voice.
“I did. It was stressful, but good. And you? Did you win in yut?”
“Jungkook won, he always does. It is impossible to beat him.”
You snicker, “I see. I am very nervous for tonight”, you confess, making Taehyung’s stomach clench excitedly.
So he was correct in his assumptions. How glad he feels that he bathed thoroughly.
“You mustn’t be. I will be gen-”
The servants interrupt him.
“Oh the food.” You bounce excitedly. “Close your eyes, Sire.”
Taehyung obeys, albeit confused.
“You can begin serving. Thank you.”
He keeps his eyes closed until the servants stop working and leave the room.
“Open them, Sire.”
Clay domes still cover the food. He can see rice and lettuce leaves as well as perilla leaves and different kinds of sauces. Kimchi, pickled radish and braised garlic is also present.
“Tonight’s dinner is a celebration, Sire. You managed to finish massage therapy successfully.”
“I did.”
“It is a very happy occasion and it deserves a reward. So tonight is your special dinner”, you say and finally lift the domes.
“Meat!” Taehyung exclaims, face lighting up like that of a little boy seeing candy. “There is meat!”
“Is it to your liking? I told the kitchen to prepare it just for you. We have pork belly, cuts of beef, chicken. Even rabbit. I told them to make it a proper feast.”
“This is everything I have ever dreamed of and more”, he says, making you laugh.
“Well then, I am glad. Please enjoy. You deserve it.”
“Tonight feels like my birthday, truly”, he murmurs and begins his happy feast. He hums and sighs happily, barely wanting to chew his food.
It might sound rather peculiar, but seeing him happy makes you happy as well. It flickers in your chest like a warm flame and feels…comfortable. Really, really comfortable.
“Please slow down and chew your food, Sire”, you chuckle.
“I cannot stop, it tastes so good.”
“You will get indigestion if you do not chew. What am I always telling you?”
He sighs in defeat, giving you a hasty glare.
“Digestion already begins in the mouth.”
“Exactly. So chew your food.”
“You’re too stern sometimes”, he mumbles, slowing down groggily.
“I am merely looking out for you in the near future. You will have an easier stool-”
“Please, Mistress”, he silences you, “you must stop talking about shitting while I eat.”
“Forgive me”, you say and snicker, “I have to leave the healer at the door sometimes.”
He hums, but his eyes show amusement. This is comfortable. He picks up a lettuce leaf then a perilla leaf.
“What do you enjoy most, Mistress?”
“Me? Let me see. I enjoy this and a little bit of this, oh and this has to be present always. I also like this.”
Taehyung prepares a lettuce wrap with the things you said you enjoy. He folds it neatly and leans closer, guiding it to your mouth.
“Ah.”
“What are you doing?”
“Feeding you.”
“Oh.” You accept the wrap, covering your mouth afterwards with burning cheeks. His gesture set your heart aflame, your stomach is fluttering, and you can barely meet his eyes.
“Is it good?” he asks, eyes sparkling.
“Yes, thank you.”
Taehyung puts two more pieces of your favourite meat on your plate then prepares a wrap for himself.
“This is delicious”, he mumbles, chewing happily.
Now that he is occupied with eating, you dare to glance at him. This was the most thoughtful and romantic gesture anyone has ever shown you. This is the very last thing you expected from such a stern man. He seems to glow in your eyes as you look at him now. Like a star in the sky.
Taehyung lies down on his side with a loud sigh after finishing dinner. He is propped up on his left elbow, resting his temple against his hand, and his legs are fully stretched in relaxation. He snacks from a bowl of caramelised nuts, seeming entirely happy with his situation. It is a peculiar view merely because he seems so comfortable.
“This was the best dinner since long”, he says, reminiscing with a sigh.
It embarrasses you to have him lay like this in front of the servants as they clear the table. They must think you and him are so improper.
“Do you want some tea?” they ask.
“Perhaps later. Thank you.”
“As you wish.”
They leave with the last trays, closing the door behind them.
“What is it?” he asks, studying your fidgeting hands.
“Nothing.”
“Something is the matter. Did you dislike dinner?”
“I didn’t. Although I missed the vegetables.”
He scoffs in amusement, “of course you did.”
He looks at you so softly that you feel nervous. You clear your throat, wiping your palms on your thighs repeatedly.
“What’s the matter? You’re clearly nervous.”
“You are still in my room.”
“Is this a problem?”
“No, it’s not that.”
“But?”
“Shouldn’t you leave now?”
“Do you wish me to leave?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then I will stay. I find it rather comfortable here”, he says and lies down completely. He snacks on two nuts, having his eyes closed.
“But why? We finished dinner.”
“I know.”
This is new and it stresses you out. As always, you barely talked during dinner and you expected him to leave right away afterwards. This is your thing. You eat in silence then go your merry ways. Tonight was supposed to be another day of routine so why is he staying? Why is he spreading on your floors as if he lived here?
“You were right, your floors are very comfortable.”
“Mh-hm.”
He peels his eyes open, “what’s the matter?”
“It’s just that…you never stayed after our meals, but you changed the routine and it is stressing me out.”
“Can’t a husband enjoy the company of his wife after successfully finishing therapy?”
“Oh my”, you get out, averting your eyes to the side.
He props himself up on his elbow again, reaching out to stub your knee.
You jump up with a yelp, startling Taehyung as much as he startled you.
“Tea. We should get some tea.”
You kneel down by your herbs and begin to flick through them aimlessly.
Taehyung furrows his brows. This is suddenly very confusing. Is this not why you called him to your chambers tonight? He finished therapy and therefore you and he can focus your attention on your marriage instead. Is this not what tonight meant?
He sits up, setting the nuts aside.
“What was the purpose of tonight?”
“A celebratory dinner for your successful therapy.”
“And afterwards?”
“I thought we could go to bed.”
“Yes? I can take you to bed, if this is what-”
“No, Sire. I meant separately. Please don’t misunderstand.”
“Oh. I see. Now I’m confused.”
“Is it really hot in here all of a sudden?”
He follows you with his eyes as you run to the window and open it. A breath of fresh air fills your lungs, cooling you down. It smells like future snow. If your pulse races any more, you will pass out.
Taehyung stands up, closing the distance to you. He places his hand on your shoulder, making you flinch and turn to him.
“Say the word and I will leave”, he whispers, eyes flitting to your lips, “but don’t be mistaken, Mistress. I would lay with you if you asked.”
The step you take back doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He retreats his touch but stands his ground, resting his shoulder against the window frame.
“Sire, you were my patient just yesterday. It is inappropriate of a healer to, to…” you whisper the next words as if ashamed, “...lay with her patients.”
“Patient?”
“Yes, Sire. You were my patient.”
“Who you are married to.”
You look at the floor, clearly embarrassed. Taehyung bends down so he can meet your eyes.
“Is this not what this dinner was about? Us transitioning from patient and healer to husband and wife?”
You look up at the sky.
“No. I mean, yes. No, I don’t think so. I don’t know. I didn’t consider this option.”
“Then I misunderstood and must apologise”, he says, straightening his back.
Your breath leaves you shakily, for just a split second he could watch your lips part. He wonders.
“Just one question for you, to satisfy my curiosity”, he says.
“Yes?”
“Do you not wonder about how I feel?” he asks, taking in the view of your eyes flitting to his lips. You are curious, he knows that you are. But will you let go of your etiquette and give in or clasp onto it stubbornly?
You stumble for words which never come. He brushes his thumb over his lips, watching how your eyes follow his finger. You are mesmerised by it.
“Isn’t it unfair that you touched me each week while my hands still haven’t experienced your skin beneath them?”
“This was different! You needed treatment.” You straighten up high. “I never touched you inappropriately, Sire. I am not this kind of healer.”
“Of course not, but I finished therapy and I wonder. When the night is quiet and you feel heat rise, do you wish for the kind of treatment only a husband could give?” he whispers, eyes racing over your face greedily.
Your hands clutch your own collarbones, body swaying as if he pushed you. He desires to support your waist but doesn’t. He wants you to ask him for it first.
Your hands connect with his chest, pushing him back. You aren’t able to move him, but he lets you win. It is more fun this way.
“Do not say this, Sire. I do not have these feelings.”
You and he stumble into the bedroom, he smiles at you.
“Don’t smile after making such serious accusations about my character.”
“I’m not smiling about that.”
“What else could you smile about?”
“You have been secretly training your fighting, have you not?” He collides with your dresser on purpose, making a sound just to challenge you.
“No, I’m…” You pull back, cupping your own cheeks. “I didn’t want to. Sire, please don’t act this way! Be normal again, I don’t like this. You are putting me in a very inappropriate situation.”
“Then tell me to leave.” He pushes off the dresser, closing the distance to you. You don’t step back, which only draws him in deeper. “Tell me that you aren’t curious and I will leave.”
Your eyes are on his lips. Your breathing is quickened. Your face is heated. Your body is telling the truth, but will you?
“No, I. I don’t. I am not. Sire, please. Oh, this is too much”, you stutter, sinking to your knees.
“Careful.”
He kneels down with you, reaching out in case you needed support. No touches because you never allowed him.
“You are too bold, Sire.”
“You cannot blame me. Each week you made me better with your touch. I want to return the favour.”
“Sire!” Your eyes are as big as saucers, while your thighs press together subconsciously. “You cannot say such things to me!”
“Why? Because it makes you curious?”
“No! No, I am a proper lady!”
“Forgive me, my lady.”
“You are mocking me.”
“I would never.”
You stand up, pacing from side to side. He looks up at you on his knees and his eyes clouded over in obsession. If you pulled up your skirt and sat yourself on his face right now, he would welcome you with open arms. You are hypnotising when you are flustered.
“I cannot simply confess such things. I am a lady and, and you were my patient just yesterday. I thought that we were alright the way we are.”
“Then send me away.”
Your hesitation kills him. Why are you lying to yourself? He is willing to play out all your fantasies, all he needs is your honesty. Why do you deny yourself what he could give you?
“Please leave, Sire”, you whisper hesitantly and unsure.
“Is this what you want?”
Your eyes say no, “yes, it is.”
“I see.” He stands up, tugging on his skirt to fix it. There are thankfully enough layers to hide what he feels for you.
He closes the distance, you don’t step back when he does. He lowers his head, you hold your breath and squeeze your mouth shut. You are sticking to your lie even when your body speaks the truth.
Taehyung does not look at your face as he takes your hand. Out of pettiness perhaps. Instead he places a kiss on your hand, feeling you melt and hearing you gasp. The second kiss by your wedding band, he places out of spite.
“Sleep tight, my lady”, he whispers against it, ghosting his lips over your skin before he pulls back.
You want him, chasing him instinctively but Taehyung is petty. And patient. You aren’t ready to be honest and he can wait. He will get you to rid yourself of your silly manners.
“Sire.”
Your quiet call tugs the corner of his lips up into a smirk. He closes the door behind him without giving in. It has already started. Once he is done with you, you will be begging him to take you to bed.
“The king requires your presence today.”
Taehyung liked waking up until this message. Now, his day sucks and he hates waiting in front of the king’s chambers to be let inside.
As always, ten servants and ten guards surround him. You are present as well, massaging his feet. Taehyung grits his teeth, entering the room without bowing. He planned on bowing, but not after seeing you on your knees.
“General, you are actually on time for once.”
“You called for me.”
“I did. Sit and eat breakfast with me.”
Taehyung sits and glares. A servant feeds him while you have to touch this old fuck’s feet. If Taehyung was just a little bit crazier, he would hit him.
“Colonies, General. Your thoughts on them?”
“My thoughts on colonies?”
“Speak them. Should we extend to the south? The north is ours, however I have been thinking. We should take the south as well.”
Taehyung’s stomach clenches. His ears threaten to ring and images of the frontline try to claim his vision. He applies what he learned in therapy, remaining calm for now.
“Our troops have suffered a great loss in numbers, your majesty. Claiming the south with the numbers we currently possess, would be an unwise decision.”
He is not lying. This war took far too many men. Alas even one person killed in war is too much, but this war was especially cruel.
“Then make it work.”
“I wouldn’t recommend this. The peace treaty with Emperor Hanazono provides our kingdom with rich trade and a secure southern border.”
“I want more land.”
“Uncle, think just once”, Taehyung growls.
The king darkens his eyes. The room grows quiet and ice cold. Taehyung clears his throat and continues.
“What I meant to say, your majesty, was that breaking the peace treaty would put our country at unease on two fronts and a war we cannot afford. Emperor Hanazono supports our troops with provisions, he honours the peace. Furthermore, it would cut off trade by sea as the emperor’s fleets far outnumber ours and will therefore rule the waters. It would throw this country into poverty and famine.”
“Why are you even here if you only tell me no?”
“Forgive me, your majesty, I am acting in the interest of the country. Strengthen the northern border, rebuild and improve the regions, strengthen the health system. It will bear bigger fruits than destabilising the southern border.”
“But will it bring more land?”
“Yes, for fuck’s sake. Actually put your coin into the destroyed villages instead of new clothing, help the people rebuild and you will have a functioning northern region with lots of land to spare.”
Taehyung does not realise what he said until it is too late and everyone in the room stares at him. They are in awe, except the king who very clearly has a bruised ego.
“You will speak with more respect from now on, General. You constant demands are getting on my nerves.”
“Forgive me if I find it a little difficult when you speak of new wars while we are still recovering from the last.”
“You have no idea of war, General. I still believe that we can afford to extend the south border.”
“I have no idea of war?”
The king nods his head. Fear overcomes the unwilling audience, thoughts of how the general will react begins to wander in the people’s heads.
Taehyung takes a deep breath and straightens his back. He studies the king, then the servant who is too scared to feed him and lastly you who glances at him nervously.
He exhales.
“Why does my wife have to massage your feet? Is she not first royal healer? She leads your hospital, your majesty. The praise people sing for your health care system is because of her efforts”, he says calmly.
The king blinks in confusion. His attempt to enrage his nephew has failed.
“Have you put a baby inside her yet?” the throws back.
“What? This is not even remotely of importance right now and beyond disrespectful. She is a lady of great standing and shouldn’t do the tasks of a servant.”
“You didn’t impregnate her. Then this discussion is over and she is still mine to use as I please. Claim her properly and I’ll reconsider, you lobcocked brat.”
Taehyung grinds his teeth, meeting your eyes. You seem scared and impressed at the same time. He holds his tongue because you clearly do not wish him to be rude.
“The language you use for members of the royal family is rather un-kingly.”
“Excuse me?”
Taehyung stands up, “you’re excused. Good day, uncle.”
He leaves, slamming the door on the way out. The guards outside stare at him. It is clear that they respect Taehyung more than the king.
“You heard?” he says and they nod their head with a frown. Nothing else is spoken because too many words might get one killed. Nothing else needed to be said however to understand. The king is mad and his greed for land will ruin this kingdom.
Taehyung waits for you, fighting his own thoughts. He really does not want to start another war. He does not want to go back, he does not want to send more men to their death, he does not want to see unarmed civilians die in the crossfire. He has to prevent this war, he has to show reason to the king. Which will be hard because his uncle is a fucking twat.
If Taehyung could change anything, he would put his mother on the throne. She has always been the wiser sibling, she cares for the people and knows diplomacy is more important in keeping a land’s prosperity than war. But alas a cock matters more than actual brain, and Taehyung’s dream will always stay a dream.
“Sire?”
Taehyung looks your way. He stands up and bows. The anger in his chest dissipates when you are by his side. His worries seem easier to handle.
“Mistress.”
“I wondered if you waited for me. This was intense, wasn’t it?”
“I am used to his ideas. This is not the first war I prevented.”
“I never knew that you had to do all these things as well. Prevent wars and get rid of idiotic rules. I believed that you were only here to fight.”
“In a way I still am.”
You laugh softly, melting Taehyung’s heart. He walks easier by your side. The day does not seem so dreary.
“I think that you were remarkable in there. I agree with you. Stabilising the northern border will be more fruitful than destabilising the south.”
“It is. He just has to bloody see it as well.”
“He will. With time. Just like he did with the health care system.”
“I am a good general, alright? I know what I am talking about. I have lived war for five bloody years while he sat in his palace, drinking and jerking off. Yet he constantly thinks up delusions of power and undermines my knowledge.”
Taehyung gets worked up again, speaking louder than he normally does.
“He has no idea what war is like! To wake up each morning with the knowledge that you will end up with the blood of thousands on your hands and that one small decision determines whether it’s going to be the blood of your men or those of your enemies. But it will be blood regardless. That’s the reality of war! Blood and death and loss!”
He is pacing.
“I dedicated half of my teens and all of my twenties to serving this country and what do I get? A fucking twat for a king who wants and wants and wants but gives nothing in return”, Taehyung is very well yelling at this point, “I’m a good fucking general! I know what I am saying!”
“I know and he knows”, you calm him with a hand on his chest, “he is just too proud to admit it. The most important thing is that you stood your ground. I am certain that he will give it up very soon for another fantasy. You are intelligent, Sire, and he fears that.”
“You believe that?”
“I do. You see the entire situation, you consider the consequences and understand the workings of a state. You are a better leader than him because you actually care and think. He attacked you because you told him things he never even considered and that bruised his ego. He calls you incapable because it is the only way he will ever feel more powerful than you.”
He scoffs.
“What?”
“You wouldn’t have talked like this months ago.”
“Oh. I…” you panic, but Taehyung calms you.
“It is refreshing, thank you. I will keep it between us.”
“Thank you. I got so worked up that I forgot my tone. I really cannot stand to see you upset, Sire.”
“And neither can I you, Mistress”, he talks so softly that it feels endearing, “your support in this matter means a great deal to me.”
“It does?”
“Of course. I am glad to have my wife on my side.”
“Oh”, you glance shyly, “then I am happy to be by your side.”
Taehyung smiles at you. In the middle of the courtyard, where people can see their general smile for the very first time. You retort it, which isn’t unfamiliar to the people but it still feels different when the general is the recipient.
“I am certain that he will admit that you are right.”
“Perhaps”, Taehyung says and exhales deeply, rubbing his forehead, “I might get a headache before that happens.”
“Then you can come to me and I will massage it away”, you say, wiggling your fingers at him.
Taehyung smiles and pushes your hands away in a playful manner. He holds them for a mere second, squeezing them gently before releasing them. His touch remains as tingles.
“Alright, alright. Thank you, Mistress.”
You snicker, relaxing beside him. You walk the familiar path to your office. The days are cold, winter has arrived and it will only become colder from now on. The first snow must come soon, the smell of it in the air has become stronger since last night.
“I also thank you for standing up for me. Even if it probably did rather little, it was a kind gesture”, you say.
“He treats you like a simple servant and talks without manners even though you are of noble blood. You are my wife, which makes you royalty on top of it. I cannot watch it without doing something.”
“This is kind of you, Sire. I felt…it might sound mad, but it was nice to be protected.”
“Of course, Mistress. I am your husband, I will always protect you. Even against my uncle.”
You pass a dark corner and stop, shoving him into it. Taehyung allows you, heart palpitating. He sighs when his back hits the wall.
“The thing he said about the baby”, you begin.
“Yes?”
“Is this why you spoke as you did last night? Is he putting pressure on us, which I do not know of?”
“No, I acted out of my own volition last night. I misread the invitation and thought that you wished me to act.”
“I see. Well then, uhm, we can pretend that my ability to carry children has never been mentioned so publicly.”
“Of course, Mistress. Unless, you wish me to try?”
“Try? No”, you giggle nervously, looking left and right, “no, Sire. Not me. I am a lady.”
“Of course you are.” He touches your hand, making you gasp. “Mistress, may I ask you out tonight?”
“What?” you breathe, slipping from his touch, “why? Sire, if you are thinking of… then I-I cannot simply agree.”
“I can calm you, nothing of that sort. Some of my comrades asked me to celebrate our successful therapy at Moonbar. They are bringing their wives, so I wondered if you might want to go with me.”
“Oh. I see”, you fluster, cheeks heating up, “this is…this is the first time I am asked such a thing. I do not know what to say.”
“Yes, perhaps? It will be a very fun evening.”
“Will it?”
“Yes. There will be card games, conversation, drinks. It will be fun.”
“Fine. But I will not get drunk. I must be a proper role model.”
“Of course, you are a lady after all.”
You shove him, pointing a finger at him afterwards.
“Do not tease me. Good day, Sire.”
You leave, but Taehyung feels great. As a matter of fact, he feels properly excited. You will go with him. How thrilling.
Taehyung never asked you if, when and where he should wait for you, so he is pacing in front of your chambers. He feels a little sick, perhaps he needs to ask you if a constant raised pulse was a symptom of something dangerous. It has been happening for weeks. Whenever he thinks of you or knows you will meet, his heart races. It must be an illness. Or perhaps… Taehyung touches his chest. Perhaps feelings show themselves this way.
“Is this possible?” he wonders out loud.
“What is possible?”
He jumps slightly, startling you as well.
“Mistress, oh hey. I mean, good evening.”
“Good evening, Sire. What are you doing in front of my chambers?”
“Pacing, no, I mean. I was waiting for you, we never decided on a meeting spot.”
“I see. Well, I am ready. As ready as I can be at least. I have never been to Moonbar.”
“You haven’t?”
“No, I was always too busy.”
“I see.”
You glance at each other, shifting in the nervous silence. So this is your first official outing as husband and wife. There is no other way to put it. Taehyung asked you and you agreed. You are his wife and he is your husband, and tonight everyone will see you as such.
Taehyung clears his throat.
“Did you say something?” you ask.
“No, I uhm. Actually. Do you like this?” he asks and opens his palm to reveal a hair comb made from mahogany.
“It is very pretty, yes. Where did you get it?”
“The market. It’s for you.”
“For me?” you gasp.
He nods his head, gazing shyly.
“Why?”
“Because I thought of you when I saw it.”
“Oh.” Your cheeks heat up, your eyes flit down coyly. He thought of you.
“May I put it on for you?”
“Oh. Yes, okay”, you turn with a palpitating heart, grasping the sleeves of your dress nervously.
Taehyung feels just as nervous, heart beating out of his chest as he adorns your hair with the comb. He is scared to accidentally hurt you, working beyond carefully. Your hair is so soft and smells like violets. He wishes to smell his fingers once he pulls back, but restrains himself because this would be weird.
“Did you do it?” you ask.
“Yes.”
“Does it look good?”
“You are very beautiful, I mean, yes it looks very good.”
You turn, staring at the floor because you couldn’t possible look at his face when you are this giddy.
“Thank you, Sire”, you whisper, following it up with a giggle.
“Of course. Shall we walk?” he asks, offering you his arm to take.
You take it, still avoiding eye contact at all cost. Taehyung is content nonetheless. He made you happy with the present and he gets to feel your touch on his arm. He couldn’t wish for anything better.
He will have to tell Jimin about his success with the present. Without his wisdom and advice, Taehyung would be lost. Because in Taehyung’s eyes Jimin is wise beyond comparison when it comes to being a good husband.
“Are you cold?” Taehyung asks.
“No. Why do you ask?”
“Just making sure. Tell me when you get cold or when you feel hungry or tired or when you wish to leave.”
“Yes. Alright”, you say, having to smile to yourself. He is so endearing. Perhaps changing your status from healer and patient to wife and husband won’t be as scary as it first seemed.
You close your fingers around his upper arm just a little more, sneaking a glance at his face. He gave you a present and wants to take care of you. Oh, he makes you want to giggle and hide your face in his arm. You resist the urge because it would be weird.
“Have you been to Moonbar ever since you are back?” you ask.
“No, I wasn’t. The last time I visited, was before I got called to the front. Hyungsik and I, we-”
He laughs breathily, wiping at his nose.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s funny, I was just thinking about how he and I always went together and how I cannot wait to see him again, until I remembered that I watched someone cut his head off.”
“Oh, Sire. Do you wish to stay?”
“No. No, I wish to honour him by going. I think he would be mad at me if I skipped tonight just because of grief.”
“People always say that grief is love you cannot put onto the person you lost anymore, and that it hurts so much because you weren’t done loving them.”
“It is. I really wasn’t. He loved Moonbar and I loved going with him. Right now, it feels like the only way I can still love him.”
“Then we shall spend tonight well. In honour of Hyungsik.”
“Yes, in honour of my friend. And everyone else this war took.”
“Agreed.”
Taehyung clears his throat awkwardly.
“This got darker than I wanted it to. Forgive me.”
“It is alright. I understand, I always do.”
He manages to meet your eyes just briefly before his comrades and their wives join your togetherness. They are the same soldiers you met this morning, except for Jungkook who is still unable to walk long distances and therefore has to stay back. Not that he minds a lot, he doesn’t like crowds. And Sergeant Min promised to make him lamb skewers tonight, one of his favourites.
“Mistress, you decided to join us. What fun”, Namjoon greets you.
“It seems that I did.”
“You will love Moonbar. It is the most fun you will have all week actually”, Hoseok says.
The rest of the way, conversation is light-hearted and everyone gets their chance to talk. Taehyung walks beside you, allowing his inferiors to talk. He would rather listen and enjoy seeing them so much better than talk himself.
Moonbar is the most popular place for young people to meet. Most of the people are of noble blood or at least of higher standing, but citizens and even high-ranking merchants are seen on occasion as well. The establishment itself is located in the eastern neighbourhood, past the merchant district. A small plaza in front of it is bustling with drunken people and new guests. Loud dancing music leaves the two-story building and the smell of grilled meat hangs in the air.
“This is it. How I missed this smell. Come, my love, you must try to fried chicken”, Jimin says and leads his wife inside. She follows him with delighted giggles.
The customers of Moonbar are required to take off their shoes by the door. It is customary in all establishments which serve food or drink, for the customers to walk in their socks or barefoot. It is also an instinctual habit of the people to slip off their shoes. You store yours next to Taehyung’s right by the door.
He offers you his hand to take as you walk up the two small steps, which you accidentally decline because you are too busy looking at everything. So he lingers beside you, gazing at your awestruck features and thinking to himself how beautiful you are.
Moonbar, as previously mentioned, spans across two stories, whereas the second floor is open and overlooks the ground floor through balconies. People converse by floor tables, while others play cards or mahjong. The ground floor is spacious with a bar opposite side of the entrance. One has to cross a spacious floor, currently empty but used for dancing on other nights. Along the borders of said floor, more tables invite for conversation. The establishment seems to continue behind the bar. It is hidden to you by beaded curtains.
“General! Mistress Healer!”
The others call you over, waving their hands. They have found a table by the window. An unfamiliar man and woman sit next to them. They are both attractive people.
“After you”, Taehyung says and follows you.
“You found a free spot.”
“Indeed we did, Mistress. Do you and the General want to join us?”
“We would love to. Thank you.”
The unfamiliar man and woman get to their feet, bowing to greet you.
“Admiral Kim Seokjin and this is my wife Lady Hyeji. You must be Lady ___.”
“Indeed I am. Good evening to both of you”, you say, granting them a smile. They seem like nice people.
“Now, drinks. What may I get all of you? It’s on me”, Taehyung says.
“What? No, General we couldn’t.”
“Yes, you could.”
“Well…if you insist then Hondonju.”
“Perfect.”
He leaves for the bar, while you get comfortable by the table.
“I have heard of this, but what exactly is it?” you ask.
“You have never had Hondonju before, Mistress?”
“Never.”
“You take rice wine and drop a glass of soju in it. This will get you drunk easily.”
“Oh. I see.”
“And we will make a game out of it. Have you played Canon Fodder before?”
“I have. Taehyung, I mean the general, showed me.”
“Perfect, then you and he can be a team. The losing team has to mix it with the soju Jimin’s grandfather makes.”
“I heard of it, isn’t it supposed to be uncharacteristically bitter?”
“It is. Nobody in our family can manage to drink more than one glass”, Jimin says with fondness.
“I don’t know. I am not very fond of drinking.”
“Please Mistress, it would be such an honour if you drank with us.”
“We would be forever grateful, Mistress.”
“Fine then, but only one drink. We shouldn’t drink too much as it is not healthy for us.”
They all cheer for you, excitement bubbly in their hearts. Taehyung returns to the table and places the tray down.
“Why are we cheering?” he asks.
“Mistress ___ agreed to play Canon Fodder. The loser has to drink Jimin’s soju.”
“Is that so?” Taehyung sits down beside you, eyes only on you. “Should we team up, Mistress?”
“I already decided that we should”, you say.
“Did you?” he asks to which you nod your head, panicking internally because his gaze leaves you highly affected.
“Then it’s decided. I’ll shuffle the cards.”
Cannon Fodder is a card game Taehyung and his comrades invented at the front lines. It can either be played solo or as a team of two people, the goal of the game is to eliminate the opponent with higher numbers – canon fodder – until no new cards can be dealt. The player whose number is higher after three dealings wins and a new round begins. The game is won when three out of four rounds belong to one’s team.
You have only played it with Taehyung until now, so you allow him to play in the first round. Teams add a few new rules, which you haven’t quite understood yet like throwing in decoy cards, launching a surprise attack and retreating. Quite frankly, teaming up changes this entire game and you have to fully rely on Taehyung to guide you.
You could not wish for a better partner. He is patient and never loses his composure when you ask for yet another clarification. He also takes over when you are confused and explains to you why he did what he did. And when you and he sadly lose, he does not get angry, he jokes and drinks the punishment with you.
“Oh, this is terrible. I could use this stuff to sterilise wounds. Are we certain this is drinkable?” you complain, making the others laugh.
“That is what we have been telling, grandpa. But he insists it is correct”, Jimin says.
“This is far from correct. This should be forbidden.”
They laugh and you join them. It is fun.
“Perhaps another round? I have figured everything out”, you say.
“Oh? Has the spirit of battle taken over you, Mistress?” Hoseok teases.
“Indeed it has. We will annihilate all of you.”
“We will see about that.”
Going out is fun. You did not know that you could laugh as much and as loud, and you did not know that you could talk as much as you do. Even the Hondonju is delicious and does not make you feel regretful. Perhaps you needed that, perhaps all of you did.
The war brought too many victims each day. You have seen what it did, day in and out you witnessed the repercussions. They lived it, they are the repercussions. And perhaps you all needed this evening. A small ray of light, a little promise that life will become better from now on. Hope has not died yet.
Unluckily for you, the fifth loss (yes, you have been playing this game for a few hours by now, breaking it up with conversation or eating) goes to your team again. Taehyung’s comrades are ecstatic, cheering loudly.
“This is my fault.”
“No, it is not. Jimin shuffled the cards badly”, Taehyung says.
“I did not. You are simply destined to lose. Drink up.”
The mood is light-hearted and happy. Taehyung drinks the bitter liquid and wants to reach for yours, but you are quicker. You down the second shot, shuddering vividly. The cheers are loud, soon drowning out into scattered conversation as each team discusses the previous game. Except for Namjoon and his wife, who discuss possible snacks.
“I thought that you did not wish to drink”, Taehyung uses the moment to converse with you. He does so whispering against your ear, which raises your pulse.
You turn only to stub noses and instantly look away. Taehyung flusters as well, giving you space. His heart palpitates.
“Excuse me for a moment”, you say and stand up, “I shall get water from the bar. It is important to hydrate with your alcohol intake as it will reduce the risk of a hangover. Does anyone else wish for water?”
“No thank you, Mistress. I’ll risk the hangover.”
“I would like some, please.”
You walk to the bar with wobbly legs. The soju was too strong. You never drink and now everything is turning. Your nose still feels Taehyung’s. It was but a vast second and yet it affects you so deeply.
“One jug of your coldest water and bring some to this table as well.”
This is a lot of fun. Except the dizzy head. This is not fun. Or the racing heart. This is mildly fun. You wobble, knocking into somebody.
“Excuse me. Oh, you.”
“Are you alright?” Taehyung asks, having followed you, even if this earned him knowing looks from his comrades. He didn’t care for them, only having eyes for you.
“I’m alright. I am done with alcohol for the night however. One should know one’s limit and I have reached mine. Perhaps I have even overstepped. Ah, my head is dizzy.”
“Why did you not allow me to drink for you? I would have taken the punishment”, he is slightly whiney, arm stretched behind you without touching you, just in case you needed to support yourself.
“And made me look like a fool? Oh no, General, I am a lady of honour.”
His gaze softens, he pokes the finger you are yet again pointing.
“How could I assume anything different?”
“Besides, I can hardly say no”, you say, sipping on your water.
Taehyung leans against the bar, body turned to you and gaze enthralled by you. Anyone in this bar can see how enamoured he is by you, anyone except perhaps you. Because you do not know any other look from him, so for you this is the way Taehyung has always been looking at you.
“You can always say no if you wish to”, he says.
“I perhaps wanted to do what I did.” You set the jug down and sit on a barstool, swinging your legs.
“You did?”
“I did. I think I needed to remember that I can still act my age. You know, I’ve been dedicating my life to medicine since I was twelve. I watched. Then I studied, I learned and trained, I assisted my mother and now I am leading her hospital. I’ve almost forgotten how it feels to be young.”
“Mhm”, Taehyung purrs in acknowledgment, nodding his head, “I understand your sentiment. The military has been my life since I was fifteen, it is difficult sometimes to be anything other than your duties.”
“Exactly.” You sigh deeply, scanning your eyes over the bar. “But this is nice. And I’m wearing your ear jewellery”, you say, posing.
He steps closer so he can inspect it with squinted eyes. He hums and steps back.
“You are. They fit you so well.”
“Thank you”, you say, snickering. “They go perfectly with the comb.”
You pose again and Taehyung swears that it lights up the room.
“They do.”
“Ah, I’m happy”, you say more to yourself than anyone else, turning your attention to the water. You sip on it, talking to the bar tender when he comes over.
Taehyung does not know what you are talking about because he is flabbergasted. You are happy and it is his doing. He made you happy. His desire is to hug you and kiss your cheek because his chest might burst, but he does not follow his desires. He cannot.
He wants to learn more about you. Quite frankly, he wants to learn everything about you. Or perhaps he simply wants you to talk so he can watch the way your lips move.
“Alright, game time”, he says.
You look at him. “No more games, if I have to drink another drop of alcohol, I will fall over.”
“No drinking, just talking.”
You turn to him on the chair, resting the side of your face against your propped up hand. He mirrors your position subconsciously, elbow on the bar counter. Your gaze is slightly droopy, drawing him in.
“I can accept talking”, you say.
“Perfect. The game is: question and answer. I ask and you answer.”
“Alright, that sounds easy. Unless you ask me questions about geometry. I don’t like geometry.”
He chuckles, “no questions about geometry.”
“Then I’m ready”, you say, settling into this comfortable moment. You really, really, like looking at his face. His eyes, his nose, his cheeks and lips. Everything is so nice to look at.
“What’s your favourite colour?” Taehyung asks.
“My favourite colour? Mhm maybe purple? I know that it’s really difficult to make, but I like it. Yours?”
“I like green.”
“That’s a nice colour too.”
“Next question. If you were an animal what would you be?”
You giggle because his question is cute. Taehyung likes the sound of it, soaking it up greedily.
“I think maybe I’d be a deer? Or a mouse? I can’t choose”, you say.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. They’re the first animals that came to mind.”
“I think you’re more of a dog.”
“Why?”
“Because you are positive and you like people, whilst being liked in return. And you care deeply for people, wanting to spread joy.”
“Wow.” You have never been described this way before. “This was so nice, thank you.”
“I mean it.” He draws closer because you give him the feeling that you want that. You don’t avoid him.
“You would be a cat because you seem feisty at first, but when people take time to get to know you, they realise that you are nice”, you say, gaze switching between his lips and eyes.
“You think that I’m nice?”
“I do.”
Perhaps if he leaned in for a kiss, you wouldn’t move away. He acts, stopping a second later when you raise your glass to drink.
“This is fun. Do you have more questions?” you ask, oblivious to his desires.
“Uhm, uh. Yeah sure.” Taehyung clears his throat. “If you had to pick between only eating noodles or rice for the rest of your life, what would you choose?”
“Wah, this is so hard! But I think I will have to pick rice. It’s part of our identity, I cannot possibly say no to rice.”
“Understandable answer, I agree. Rice is delicious.”
“It really is. Especially with vegetables”, you are teasing, eyes gleaming in anticipation of his reaction.
Taehyung is obsessed with everything you say or do. He wants to laugh just to delight you.
“I beg to differ”, he jokes, heart doing somersaults when you giggle and scrunch your nose.
You drink afterwards. A droplet of water sits on your lips. Taehyung wishes to clean it off with a kiss.
“Do you have more questions?” you ask, still so terribly oblivious to what goes on in his lovedrunk head.
“Sorry?” his eyes flit up.
“Do you have more to ask?”
“Yes, sure. Let me think.”
What to ask you when all he really wants to know is whether your lips taste sweet? What should he ask when all he wants to learn is whether or not you could ever want to hold him like a wife holds her husband?
“I, uhm…”
Could you imagine liking me just how I like you?, he thinks.
“If you weren’t a healer for a day, but just an ordinary woman, what would you do?” he asks.
“I would…mhm…” You furrow your brows, thinking really hard. “I cannot tell you, honestly. Medicine is such an integral part of who I am.”
“Fine, then if you did not have any duties.”
“I would catch up on my readings. I have so many scriptures I want to read. There is one about using fish skin for burn victims. And, and ooh! Another is about western herbs.”
He smiles.
“What? Was that a boring answer?”
“No. No, it was perfectly you.”
It is a nice feeling to be known and liked for it. Safe. And warm. How nice.
“What about you? If you were normal, what would you do?” you ask him, hanging off of every word he says.
“Paint. I would leave the capital and go to the mountains to paint.”
“Do you like to paint?”
“I do.”
“This is an unexpected answer.”
“Why? Because I am the ruthless General Kim?”
“Yeah”, you laugh.
He does too.
“But I know you better these days so it fits the real you. Taehyung. It fits Taehyung.”
“Mistress”, Taehyung whispers, features softening in surprised awe.
You snicker. “Perhaps we could go together. I read under a cherry tree while you paint.”
His eyes light up, quite frankly his entire face lights up.
“I would love this very much. We must plan a trip in spring. We can have a picnic and smell the flowers.”
“Yes, alright.” You cup your heated face, swaying on your chair. His romantic attitude flusters you so much. “Oh I’m drunk. I have never been drunk before, except once after my twentieth birthday.”
“Five years ago?”
“Yes, it was a night where I wanted to forget, so I do not look back at it fondly. I was very nauseous the next day.”
“What did you wish to forget?”
“The fact that I will get married off.”
“Oh. I see.”
His chest stings. For a mere second because then you drunkenly reach out and squeeze his upper arm.
“I shouldn’t have said this, forgive me.”
“It’s…it’s alright. I understand. Our marriage is political. I know that I am not who you dreamed of.”
“No, Sire. I was careless right now.” You jump off the stool and close the distance to him. You hug him for a second then stay close, holding his sleeves. You are so close that he can taste the alcohol on your breath.
You draw him in and you aren’t even aware of it. Taehyung looks at your lips, feeling the most intoxicated he has felt all night.
“I like being married to you, Sire. You are so kind and interesting. And I like that you are part of my day, it is nice. And you are so handsome. I like it, I do”, you say, too lost in righting your wrong to notice just how close you got to him.
Alcohol makes you chatty, honest and sweet. Taehyung draws closer to you, taking your hand in the middle of this establishment. His nose brushes yours, his gaze is lowered to your lips.
“I see”, he whispers.
“Sire, don’t.”
He chases you until your fingers slip from his’. The touch lingers, affecting him as much as it affects you. He craves to taste your breath again, he wasn’t done savouring you.
“We really shouldn’t”, you insist, shaking your head.
“You give me such mixed signals, Mistress. You touch me and tell me sweet words, but push me away when I act on it. I do not know what to make of the game you are playing.”
“I am drunk, forgive me for touching you. I, I wasn’t thinking.”
“You do not have to think to feel, Mistress. And you do not have to apologise for touching me.”
“But I’m a lady, Sire. I cannot hold hands in public. Let alone kiss you.”
“Of course. Forgive me, my lady.”
“Don’t”, you point your finger, “no teasing.”
Taehyung points back and grins, turning his attention to Jimin because the latter joined him.
“Tae, we want to play sand ball outside. Do you want to join us?”
“Do I have to? ___ and I are talking.”
“No, it’s alright. Please go with the others”, you assure him.
He looks at you, “is this what you want?”
“I do. Have fun”, you are definitely saying this to push him away.
“Very well.”
He bows and leaves with the other soldiers. Right before he goes outside however, he looks over his shoulder, searching for your eyes. You cannot look away. It is as if he conquers you with just his eyes, taking your breath away.
Jimin nudges his shoulders, separating the addictive connection. Taehyung looks away and leaves. You finally inhale, following it up with a shaky exhale.
Water. You need water.
“Mistress?”
Jimin’s wife, Lady Jieun, leans closer to speak with you. The other women have joined as well.
“The other ladies and I have been talking. Now that our husbands are outside, Lady Inna is here tonight and we want to listen to her stories. Do you want to join us?”
“Lady Inna? Is she a writer?”
Lady Jieun exchanges a look with the other women and they giggle.
“One can call her like that, yes.”
“Lady Inna tells stories like no other.”
“She is very inspiring with her ideas.”
More giggles, piquing your interest.
“Very well then, I wish to join you.”
“Perfect. If we go now, we might catch her next story.”
A great number of women have gathered in a back room of Moonbar. You had to go past the beaded curtains and follow a hallway to reach it. It must be one of the private suits one can reserve for more secret meetings.
Lady Inna sits atop the table, giving your group a smile as you enter the room.
“Welcome to the secret club”, she says, making the women giggle and snicker.
“I hope we are not too late.”
“You are not. Get comfortable.”
You choose a free spot close to the door. There are around twenty-seven women present. Twenty-nine if you count in yourself and Lady Inna. You recognise some women from court and others you have passed on the streets. Lady Inna is still a stranger to you. She seems a little older than you, her lips are painted red and she blushed her cheeks just a little too much. Strings of pearls decorate her big updo and her dress is completely held in pink. Her fashion is eccentric and a little out of date, but you get a sense that it is not out of character for her.
“Have I ever told you the story of Lord Ozai and his beloved Lady Zuki?” she begins.
The room becomes silent in awe and so you decide to pay attention as well.
“They lived in a far away country a few decades ago and their love was so strong that they could not stay away from one another.”
She talks formally and almost regal, captivating the women. You aren’t completely engrossed yet, still busy figuring out why this secret club seems such a big deal to these ladies.
“Lord Ozai was to marry Lady Mei, but his heart belonged to Lady Zuki.”
“Oh, how sad. A forbidden love, their hearts must have ached so much.”
“Oh yes, they did. They ached so much that Lord Ozai swore that he would rather cut out his own heart and give it to her than to give it away to Lady Mei.”
The women giggle and fan air to their faces. You finally get it. Lady Inna tells stories of romance and love. She tells fairy tales where women get the men they actually love. These women love her because she tells them tales of what they could never have: A marriage out of love.
You listen more intently, wanting to know what love feels like. Do you feel for Taehyung what Lady Zuki felt for Lord Ozai? Is your marriage one of love? Will you learn something from this story?
“How did they find to each other? Oh, I really hope that this is a happy ending.”
“Lord Ozai refused to marry Lady Mei. His parents were furious, threatening to send him to war, but Lord Ozai insisted. So he was sent to war. Each day he thought of Lady Zuki, he wrote to her and missed her deeply.”
“Their love must have kept him alive.”
“It did. He lived through each battle because he wished to return to Lady Zuki one day. They were apart for seven years and when he returned, everything was different.”
“Did she get married?”
“His parents were weak from old age by now and Lady Mei married another, but Lord Ozai only cared for Lady Zuki. His heart burned for her. The night of his return, Lord Ozai went to Lady Zuki’s house. He was willing to steal her away from her husband if he needed to.”
You cringe, but many women seem thrilled by the idea. How peculiar, you would not want another man to steal you away from Taehyung. As a matter of fact, you would actively cling to Taehyung in such a situation. This shifts how you view your own situation.
“Lady Zuki opened after the third knock and she cried when she saw him.”
“She must have missed him so much.”
“She fell around his neck and Lord Ozai embraced her”, she says, pausing to allow the women to squeal and giggle vividly. Being held is a rather risky topic to bring up in stories. You feel shocked as well, holding your breath.
“He told her that he will marry her no matter the consequences. She had his heart and he would dedicate each day to loving her.”
“I wish men would actually say such things. This is so romantic.”
“Lady Inna, did he kiss her?” one of the women asks, making the others giggle and nudge her.
Lady Inna stares at her with a big grin.
“What do you think?” she says, increasing the volume of the giggles. She speaks louder, “Lord Ozai looked at her as if she was the very moon they met under. He begged her to accept his proposal and Lady Zuki told him that she waited each day for his return, that she kept her heart empty just for him. He kissed her before she could finish the sentence.”
You gasp while others squeal and scream in delight. How scandalous.
“As their lips connected, Lord Ozai realised how starved he felt for Lady Zuki. He had never touched her before, yet his hands craved every inch of her.”
The room is vibrating in emotions. You feel light-headed. This is exactly what Taehyung told you last night.
“He took a step inside her house and she followed. Soon her back connected with the wall as he deepened the kiss and his hands touched her waist.”
This is so deeply inappropriate to talk about, but the women here seem elated. They hang off each word she speaks, they fan air to their faces and enjoy every second of this story.
“Lady Zuki felt waves of shock run through her body as his hands touched her. She could count each finger on her body and felt heat rise deep inside.”
“I have waited for this moment. I really hoped that he would visit her.”
Some women are holding each other, giggling with each word. You feel dizzier than you did from the alcohol. Rising heat, yearning hands, starved kisses. You see Lord Ozai clearly in front of your eyes and he has the face of Taehyung. Has it always been this difficult to breathe?
“Lord Ozai broke the kiss only to whisper to her.”
You all lean closer to Lady Inna as she whispered his words.
“Let me be your servant tonight, my lady.”
You squeak with the others, covering your mouth. This story goes places one should never go.
“And when she nodded her head, Lord Ozai sighed her name and then kissed her neck.”
Actual screams fill the room. You have finished the water by now, but your throat is dry. This is too much. No respectable lady should listen to such a story. If people saw you here, they would never respect you again.
You get on your knees and flee to the door.
“Where are you going? It’s getting good now”, Lady Jieun whispers to you.
“Please excuse me for a moment. I need more water.”
You leave the room while behind you, Lady Inna describes the places his hands explored.
“She arched her back, sighing his name as his hands claimed her waist. His touch was desperate. He dreamed of holding her in this way for seven years. She clasped his arms, his muscles rippled beneath her fingers and-”
You close the door behind you and run to the front of the bar. The lights are blurry and the collar of your dress terribly tight. Can other people see how sweaty you feel?
You need to get out of here, blind to your surroundings.
Taehyung sees you come outside, tuning out the conversation of his mates. You seem disoriented and flustered, stumbling down the stairs. Alarm settles in for him. You do not see him, you do not even see other people. You hurriedly push yourself through the crowd, getting shoved and pulled from side to side as people attempt to dodge you. Anger boils in his chest upon watching you get mishandled.
You bump shoulders with a stranger bigger than you, resulting in you almost toppling over. The man, who refuses to take any responsibility, calls something after you when you run away, raising his fist.
Taehyung leaves the game, fuming in anger.
“Where are you going?”
“I will be back.”
“Should we wait for you?” Jimin asks but Taehyung is too far gone, storming at an unfamiliar man. “Ah crap. I should stop that.”
“Hey! Fucker. Yeah, you. What the fuck do you think you are doing pushing my wife like that?” Taehyung is yelling, the impact his hands make with the man’s chest is audible.
“Okay Tae. Tae, hey. Let’s go, come on”, Jimin intervenes, dragging Taehyung back with the help of the others while Taehyung is still yelling at the surprised man.
You are long gone, oblivious to the situation.
The fresh air does you well. You were suffocating inside.
You stop when you are hidden behind a wall. The trees shade you from the moonlight and below the small incline, a stream of water is frozen over. You pace, breathing inconsistently from running and your nerves.
What a terrible establishment. If you knew what kind of stories would be told without shame, you never would have followed Taehyung. And to think that he enjoys these types of establishments. It horrifies you to your very core. Does he listen to these stories as well? Does he enjoy them? You fan air to your face, pacing left and right. You cannot go back in, you simply cannot.
“Mistress?”
His voice sends a chill down your spine. Out of all the people it is him. Perhaps if you pretended not to hear him and walked away…his fingers close around your wrist and tug you back gently.
Like in the stories! His touch seeps deep into your skin, speeding up your already increased pulse.
“Please don’t touch me”, you get out, turning to face him.
“It’s just me, do not be frightened”, he assures you, ghosting his touch over your hand. It should be reassuring but to you it is torture.
You pull back. You cannot have him touch you. Not tonight. Not after everything you learned.
“What is the matter?” he asks.
“I cannot tell you.”
“Perhaps you can try.”
You shake your head vehemently.
“At least tell me that you are alright. You seem shaken. Did somebody touch you? Must I defend your honour?”
Inna’s story replays in your head. How they met again under the moonlight, how he held her and looked into her eyes. The kiss. His hands sliding to her waist and his lips escaping to her neck.
You shudder. Your breath hitches, dizziness overcomes you.
“I have to sit down.”
“Of course. Allow me.”
An unfamiliar strength melts against you as he comes up behind you to support you. It is like in the story. Men actually do such things. Your man does such things.
Your knees shake as you sit down, your face feels on fire.
“What is the matter? Did you drink more?” Taehyung asks, sitting beside you.
“I cannot say. It is so inappropriate.”
“It is alright if you did. You are allowed to let yourself go from time to time.”
If only you were drunk. Perhaps the situation would be easier to handle. You glance at him.
“I…I listened to Lady Inna.”
“Oh.”
An unfamiliar sound forces you to look at Taehyung. He is…laughing? His head is thrown back and his mouth is fully agape as he laughs his dear heart out. You have never heard him make such sounds before.
You gawk until he calms down, unable to find the right words to say. You didn’t think that he could laugh so much.
“This explains everything. Which story did she tell tonight? The one with the boat or the moonlight story?” he asks, snickering afterwards as he wipes his eyes.
“Huh?” Your confusion only grows.
“But I am surprised. Shouldn’t you be more accustomed to such topics?”
“Excuse- ah! What. How very dare you! What kind of picture are you painting of me?” you exclaim, jumping to your feet just to stomp them.
You are in front of him, hands on your hips and eyes widened in shock. Taehyung smiles up at you.
“I am nothing like these, these rampant people in the story!” you insists.
Taehyung laughs, standing up. His features are soft, his gaze is warm and amused.
“It was the moonlight story, wasn’t it?” he teases, moving his face closer to yours.
“Do not talk of it”, you squeak, covering your ears.
His eyes crinkle because you have him smiling so much. You are too worked up to really appreciate how carefree he seems in your presence.
“Did he already kiss her neck when you ran or did-”
“I’m not listening to your filth. I am a proper lady, I have no space for such stories.”
“Alright, alright I shall stop the teasing”, he chuckles, lifting his hands in defeat.
You uncover your ears, catching your breath. By now, you are certain that you must glow in the dark because of how heated you feel. You expected anything, but this. For Taehyung to tease you and repeat the filth back to you is too much for you.
“Do not take Lady Inna too seriously. She is a sweet woman, but also a daydreamer. She means no harm with these stories.”
“Then she should have thought about it before speaking. Seriously, talking about such crude topics in a public place. Has she no decorum?”
He chuckles, “if I didn’t know any better, it seems that you are scared to be caught enjoying her stories.”
You slap his chest softly, “I am not enjoying them, be quiet.”
He laughs, drawing closer.
“Not a step closer, please.”
He stops, eyes softening. The moonlight illuminates his face. His dark hair drapes over his shoulders softly. You can smell the alcohol on his breath.
“You are so wonderful, Mistress Healer”, he whispers, ghosting his gaze down your cheek until it lands on your lips.
The sensation lingers like an itch you cannot scratch. You fumble for words you cannot think of.
“This is inappropriate.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. I must…I must go.”
“Go where?”
“Back to the palace.”
“I will walk you.”
“No! I can walk on my own.”
“I cannot allow you to walk alone at night. Please wait here as I bid the others a good night”, he says and disappears behind the wall.
You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. What should you do? You cannot possibly walk with him when such filth is still travelling your head.
You must flee.
Your steps are hasty and aimless. You feel dizzy. Inna’s story mixes with the memory of that dinner. You really wanted to forget that night but it is so clear right now. His questions, his fingers under your chin, the kisses on your hand. Lady Inna confirmed your questions tonight. Such things a man only does when he desires his woman. And your feelings only happen when you desire him back.
“___! Wait!”
Quick. He is catching up with you.
“Wait!”
Cross the corner and down the path. You must escape.
“Stop.” He circles you, forcing you to collide with his chest because you couldn’t slow down in time.
You look everywhere but at him, heart beating in your throat at this point. You are out of breath, he seems to breathe heavily too.
“You are fast”, he says.
“Allow me to leave, please.”
“You can always leave, my lady.”
You finally look at him, glaring. This nickname again. It is laced with petty mockery, riling you up. He chuckles and stubs the tip of your nose, catching you so off-guard that you squeak.
“Allow me to walk with you, please.”
“I don’t know. You keep mocking me, I find it rather insulting.”
“Why? Aren’t you a proper lady? I must show respect.”
“You are still taking me for a fool.”
“On the contrary, I take you as someone very intelligent.”
His compliment flusters you, dragging a shy smile to your lips. Taehyung retorts it.
“Shall we walk?”
“Fine, but you must promise me not to mock me any further.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
“Yes, you would Sire.”
He laughs. It is rather squeaky for someone with his voice. And it is endearing, making you want to join him. But you do not, pretending to be mad at him so you can keep your honour.
“You know me better than I thought”, he says, wanting to nudge shoulders with you.
“And keep your distance.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Really.”
He chuckles, lifting his hands in defeat. He takes a step away from you.
“Lady Inna’s story must have left an impression on you. You seem very flustered.”
“I am. Because it was very inappropriate and I am shocked.”
“Of course. But just for my own understanding, which story did she tell?”
“Why do you even know so much about her stories?”
“Jimin is very chatty when he drinks, he tells me stuff. His wife likes getting inspiration from them.”
“Why did I even ask? Oh, now I’m having pictures in my head”, you whine, trying to wipe them away.
Taehyung laughs before he probes, “so which story was it?”
You hesitate for a moment before giving up with a sigh.
“The story of Lord Ozai and Lady Zuki.”
“I don’t know this story yet. It must be a new one. What was it about?”
“Lord Ozai loved Lady Zuki but he was promised to another. He refused to marry her and so his father sent him to war as a punishment.”
“How cruel.”
“It is. When Lord Ozai returned seven years had passed, but he still loved Lady Zuki.”
“This sounds wonderful, why would this fluster you? Does love fluster you, my lady?”
“Of course it does, who wouldn’t fluster? But I would not have any issue with this story if she did not describe their reunion.”
“Did she? What did they do?”
“I am not going to repeat this, this filth back to you.”
He twirls so he walks in front of you, facing the street with his back.
“Please, my lady.”
“I will not.”
“What if I begged?”
“Sire!”
He chuckles and returns to his previous spot. You fan air to your face. You hate that you are actually steaming in these cold temperatures. How embarrassing.
“I know you do not think much of these stories, but do not judge Lady Inna and the others too harshly. Her stories are the only escape some of these women have.”
“I got the same impression and I understand them.”
“Do you? Am I that terrible in your eyes?”
“What? No. No, not like that. I still know how it feels to be married to someone you did not wish to marry. I understand wanting to escape because reality seems bleak.”
“Fuck, you cut sharper than any sword ever could.”
“I understand, but I do not have these desires”, you say, searching for his eyes shyly.
He meets them, lips curled into a giddy smile. One you retort before having to look away and rub your own neck in soothing. Taehyung clears his throat, rubbing his hand down his own arm.
“So what did he do?”
“Oh Sire, will you let it be? I am a proper lady.”
“Come on, I know you want to tell me.”
“You are awful, truly I take back what I said. I wish to marry someone else.”
He laughs, twirling to face you again.
“You are a delight. It mustn’t have been that terrible.”
“But it was! He kissed her and, and touched her waist.”
“Mhm, he’s living the dream”, Taehyung purrs the words, smiling dreamily.
“Oh my! Sire!”
“What?”
“This is inappropriate.”
“I disagree.” He returns to his previous position. “He seems starved for her. I understand him.”
You fumble for words, covering your own cheeks. Taehyung chuckles, but his eyes are clouded over. There it is again: this feeling of being conquered, the magnetic pull which almost wins this time around.
You look away and into the sky.
“It is snowing”, you say, stopping in the streets.
Taehyung stops as well, tilting his head up. This is the first snow of the season.
“Finally. It has been feeling like snow ever since last night”, you say, closing your eyes as the snow kisses your heated face.
Taehyung stares, entirely awestruck. The moonlight illuminates you. Contentment softens your features. He feels jealous of each snowflake melting on your skin.
“I love the snow.” You open your eyes, smiling up at the sky. You reach for it, catching the delicate flakes in your palm. “The world seems quieter in winter.”
“I wish to kiss you.”
“Huh?”
You gawk. He fumbles with his hands.
“I know that I have been teasing, but I am truthful right now. I’ve wanted to kiss you all night. You are making my heart race. I look at you and, and I wish to be the snowflakes melting on your lips.”
“Don’t say such things”, you get out, whispering the words like a shy lover. There is no shock in your voice, only awe.
Taehyung faces you and steps closer. You do not flee this time around, staring at his lips.
“Please let me kiss you”, he whispers, “I cannot think straight, I look at your lips and I wonder how you taste. I see the moonlight in your hair and wish to feel it between my fingers. I look into your eyes and dream of getting lost in them.”
“Sire, you…did you take notes of Lady Inna’s stories? Whatever are you saying?”
“No. No stories, just the truth of my heart.”
“I see”, you whisper, stepping closer.
Taehyung acts on it. He erases the distance and cups your face, pulling you into the kiss.
You squeak and shove him away, covering your tingling lips.
“Why? What did I do wrong?” he asks, confused by your sudden distance. He was so sure that you were finally ready to kiss him.
“What if somebody sees us?”
“We’re alone. You are allowed to relax, my lady”, he assures you and takes your hands.
Your chest rises in a deep breath and sinks as you exhale, your fingers close around his’. He erases the distance, you let him.
“Yes?”
You nod your head shyly.
Taehyung smiles before he kisses your cheek. Another kiss and another and another. Inching closer and closer to your mouth. You have no strength left, resisting him would bring more harm than good. Your every fiber wishes to be with him.
“But we have to be quick”, you insist.
“Alright. Now kiss me again”, he whispers, stubbing you with his nose.
You place your hands on his shoulders and lean in, eyes squeezed shut and breath held. You hope that he takes over because you do not know what to do. One could ask you any question about the ailments of a human body and you would know what to say, but kissing? Kissing seems like an impossible thing to perform.
Are your hands placed correctly? When do you breathe? Are your teeth used and what about the tongue? Wait, why is he suddenly smiling?
“You’re still thinking”, he purrs against your lips.
“What else should I do?”
“Enjoy it.”
“I am.”
“No, you’re thinking”, he says and lowers himself just to hook his arms behind your legs and lift you.
“What are you! Eek!”
You clutch onto him, hiding your face in his shoulder.
Your back hits a cold wall, forcing your head to snap up. You are face to face with him, gulping heavily because of his intense gaze.
“Try it again. Kiss me”, he insists and you cannot resist. He pulls you in just by existing. You place your hands on his cheeks and close the distance.
Taehyung purrs, deepening the shy kiss and pressing his hips against you. In the current position you cannot think. At least not about the rules of a kiss. All you can think about is how strong he is and how delicate you feel. You can think about his hands on your legs, his voice tickling your lips and just how wet a kiss actually is. You did not expect to feel his saliva and it surprises you because you do not think it disgusting. No, you want more of it. Of him.
You try to mimic what he did before, sucking on his upper lip. Taehyung moans and chuckles, rolling his hips against you just once. It was only once but the sensation rips through you like a flood you cannot escape.
You gasp, accidentally breaking the kiss.
“I like this”, Taehyung rasps, reclaiming your lips to do the same thing to you. He sucks on your upper lip then moves to your lower lip, biting it gently. You swear that this is unnatural. You feel so fuzzy but it is a good kind of fuzzy. Unfamiliar but good.
He smiles and deepens the kiss. You get a feeling that this smile meant he is happy that you enjoyed his lip bite. You get the feeling that he loves this and you somehow have to admit that you do too.
Taehyung lowers you down the wall inch by inch until he can set you on the ground again. He towers over you like this, forcing you to tilt your head. It rests against the wall, his body cages you in. His hands are on your arms, exploring the paths of you.
You suddenly feel an itch, acting on it against your better judgement. You grab his neck and yank him down, sticking your tongue between his lips.
Taehyung gasps, kiss breaking as he stumbles for balance. He chuckles, eyes half-lidded and sparkling in adoration. His lips are puffy, glistening in the moonlight.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” his deep voice is raspy.
“I am”, you confess with heated cheeks, dragging him down again. You want more kisses. It is all you can think about.
“I’m obsessed with you”, he gets out and pushes you back against the wall, kissing you with tongue. Just as you tried to do but better. So much better. It is as if you and he are floating and ambers begin to light a fire deep within you.
It should scare you, but it doesn’t. The very moment you let yourself feel the kiss, you stopped caring. He is too powerful to resist, you want to taste every noise he makes. You have never felt more starved than you do right now.
You let out a sound and brush your hands down his chest. You cannot control them, they are acting on their own. They only stop when they are on his waist and you can feel his stomach ripple because of your touch.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, my lady”, he lulls between kisses, purring deeply as he sucks on your lower lip again. He bites it then flicks his tongue over it, deepening the kiss.
But you do not want to stop. You might have gone insane. It is as if you became a different person who cannot think rationally anymore. You need to keep exploring. You want to touch him. Differently than you did in the therapy sessions. You want to feel him. Your husband, not your patient, you want to know how your husband feels.
“Fuck, my lady”, he breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, “you’re touching me in ways which give me a hard time.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t shy away, I like it. But it makes me curious”, he tilts your head up with two fingers, eyes connecting with yours in a mesmerising way, “before the snow stops, is there anything else you want to do?”
“I cannot speak it”, your voice trembles, your eyes are filled with curiosity and readiness to indulge it.
“Then allow me to serve you, my lady.”
“Sire”, you sigh, melting against the wall and into his hands.
“Yes?”
You nod your head, eyes widening in a silent beg to keep this going.
“Gods, your eyes”, he sighs and cradles your cheek, “they’re like stars”, he adds and connects his lips with your neck.
Shock waves run through your body, for a mere second your heart stops. No wonder that Lady Zuki arched her back in the story. Quite frankly, it is a wonder she only arched her back. You wish to crumble to the ground and never get up again.
Taehyung purrs deeply, placing his strong hands on your waist just like Lord Ozai did. Your own memory comes back to you. How you saw Taehyung’s face when you imagined the lord and how you wanted to be Lady Zuki in this moment. Yes, it is out there now: you fled because you enjoyed it too much. Your imagination could have never come close to reality. You will be able to recall his touch for days. He burns himself into your skin and you won’t be able to wash him off.
Breathing is impossible, yet you do way too much of it, clinging to his shoulders tightly. The connection leaves Taehyung dizzy and hungry for more.
He kisses a path to the other side of your neck, leaving kisses on your jawline and chin as he explores. The memory of the snowflakes melting on your skin haunts him. Every inch they kissed, he needs to adore.
You make the sweetest sounds. So shy and reserved, motivating him to keep exploring. He takes your enjoyment in this personal, dragging a breathy moan from your lips as he sucks on your pulse point. No marks, he would never, but the sensation still shakes you.
He sets your body aflame, only clasping to his back may help. It squeezes him closer, hips rolling against your body and deep purr ghosting over your skin.
“Do you wish for me to melt with you, my lady?” He is half-teasing and half-asking because you are really hanging onto him.
“I, I don’t know. I’m so breathless”, you get out, gasping for air.
“Me too”, he whispers against your ear, “do you need treatment?”
“Oh my”, you breathe, head feeling like it might explode. There are a million scenarios coursing through it. The one you decide you want scares you because it is sinful and wrong, but you really want it.
“Just say the word and I will make it so good for you”, he purrs and looks into your eyes, waiting for your beg. He devours you with his look, piquing your curiosity to unbearable levels. You know the consequences of indulging, but you really don’t give a fucking shit about them. Fuck the rules.
“Please.”
Your sweet beg. His sign to go further, your honesty. Taehyung smiles, cupping your face.
“Lift your skirt.”
“What?”
“Trust me.”
You tug the layers and layers of skirt up your legs until they are bunched up just above your knees. He has you so heated that you cannot even feel the cold air.
“What a good listener you are”, he rasps and brushes his thumb along your cheekbone, a tender show of affection and a mocking contrast of what his other hand does. He takes his third and fourth finger into his mouth, eyes seducing you and tongue flicking along the digits as he takes them out again. They are wet, messy, ready for you.
“You won’t regret this, my lady”, he rasps and slips his hand under your bunched up skirt and into your underpants. He drags them through your folds, purring in answer when you gasp in reaction.
“Such a soft heaven”, he rasps and conquers you, claiming places you thought never to have claimed.
“What the- holy shit.”
It hurts a little because you have never been claimed before. But more than anything, it is as if he is lighting a fire inside you. Fireworks of burning pleasure light deep within you and take away any kind of initial pain. You whimper, squeezing your legs together.
“Relax”, he whispers, shoving your legs apart with his knee. “You’ll like it more when you relax.”
“I-I don’t- I can’t breathe.”
“You can. Follow me. In. Out. In, that’s it. And out, very good. In.”
He bottoms out and curls his fingers, forcing you to make sounds you have never made before. Quite frankly, you had no idea that you could even produce such noises.
“And out. How beautiful you are when you allow yourself to feel pleasure. I love the face you are making, my lady.”
“Sire, ahngng”, you are loud. Really loud. It is the first time you have fingers inside you and anyone would wail from that.
He silences you with his hand over your mouth, smirking when you clench down on him and your eyes flicker in desire.
“Hush, my lady. Let’s not wake the neighbours”, he teases, curling his fingers inside you as he bottoms out.
You squeak behind his hand, scratching down his chest. You were unable to make eye contact once and now you seem obsessed with the connection. Taehyung smiles at the view of you. Your eyes are filled with such delicious pleasure even through your embarrassment. Oh, he wanted to ruffle your feathers for bloody weeks. This is sacrilegious.
Taehyung increases the tempo of his movements because of it, making you whimper behind his hand and your body tense in bliss.
“I fucking wanted you for so long.” His voice is dripping in desire, his eyes are darkened like those of a hunting tiger. “I was so loyal to you, aching and longing for you. I'm losing my mind. You’re all I want. You’re fucking all I want.”
With his long, slender fingers curled against your g-spot he presses his thumb to your clit and rubs circles on her. Your knees buckle, your focus blurs. This feels as if he is starting a fire between your legs. You find your last hold on his lower arm, arching your back.
“I know”, he purrs, inching closer to kiss his own hand over your lips. Like a phantom kiss, so close and yet so far away. His fingers are so deep, your control is slipping.
Right here and now. In this dim alleyway which is bustling with merchants during the day. On the spot where people buy their eggs or trade their goats for coin, Kim Taehyung shows you what his battle-skilled fingers are also experts in.
He is brimming with passion, his touch is calculated and precise. He pumps his fingers in and out of you as if he needed it himself, as if exploring you brings him just as much pleasure. This is insane. Reality is insane.
You tug at his sleeve. Taehyung releases your mouth, resting his arm above your head. The distance shrinks, his breath mingles with yours. His kiss is so close to reach.
“Please, Sire”, you beg, grasping the nape of his neck, “We should stop.”
“Don’t be shy with me. I can feel that you needed this.”
You tremble, scratching his neck as you clasp him tighter. Both figuratively and literally, dripping walls clenching down on his long fingers. He read you like a book, you wish to go up in flames, and for some unexplainable reason, it makes you want his touch more. Taehyung purrs softly, lids lowering dangerously.
“That’s it my lady, take me in just like this. Let’s stop pretending that you aren’t enjoying this. Not when you are dripping down my fingers.”
No man has ever done this with you and it definitely wasn’t on your list of wishes. This is so far out of your comfort zone, this is beyond scandalous. So incredibly vulgar not even concubines would dare to do it. You should feel more shame for it, but you don’t.
You are enjoying this, knowing with every curl of his fingers that this is wrong. But sin feels so good. Oh it feels so good.
“Sire, this is so wrong”, you choke out, chasing his touch with needy hips.
“And yet your body is begging me for a pinnacle”, he challenges and presses down on your clit and g-spot at the same time.
He kisses you before you can scream, arm coming around your waist to support you as his sweet abuse throws you over the edge. You rely on his strength, losing track of your surroundings. You missed out on this? You were a bloody fool.
“See? Just relax, my lady. I’m right here”, he talks you through it, stomach burning in desire as he feels your orgasmic moans against his lips. You tremble in his arm, warmth so tight around his digits. This will stay with him for days.
Fucking hell, he is so hard.
Your strength leaves you after the tension and heat stops controlling you. Taehyung is still kissing you, pulling his fingers free to pick you up. Your skirt is still punched up, his hips are lodged between your legs. The wall is rough and cold against your back, your head is turning from the shock.
He is making noises you have never heard of him before. Or from any other man for that matter. It sounds pained and desperate and…starved. He feeds you his tongue when you try to pull back, he grips you tighter when you try to wiggle and his hips pin yours against the wall when you try to get out of his arms. You are trapped, at the mercy of his strength and witness to his animalistic hunger.
If he keeps kissing you, you will suffocate. You cannot give him more. Your hands push at his face, finally giving you the distance you need.
“Don’t push me away again, please”, he begs, kissing your palm, your wrist, down your arm and your shoulder until he has your neck under his lips.
He carries you with ease, licking and kissing your tender skin under the moonlight. All while his hips roll against you constantly. You know enough that you know what the hard sensation between your bodies means.
“Control yourself, Sire.”
“I’ve been so patient with you, even if it was torture. Please don’t stop me, I beg you.”
“I can’t, Sire. Please.”
“Can I convince you? Nobody will see us here and I will be gentle.”
Perhaps you should give in. You have already acted uncourtly.
“Maybe we-”
Voices fill the sinful night. Strangers come down the path. You and Taehyung have around ten seconds to act.
“Please, no. People. I don’t want to be a woman of scandal”, you beg.
“Fuck.”
He sets you down, swaying from side to side. His shoulders rise and sink quickly, his gaze is predatory. He lifts his fingers and licks them, gaze soaked with dark lust. Inch by inch, he cleans the fingers which were buried deep inside you. It is too late to be precious, he tells you with it, your sin is all over my fingers.
He finishes right as the people come into view. Taehyung leans in and whispers against your parted lips.
𓄲 Though your attention is fixed on his attire rather than what was happening on the TV. The black dress pants he wears are a familiar sight, as is the button up and the tie — loosened around his neck. The cufflinks are undone, his sleeves bunched up to his elbows, doing a most taunting job at displaying the tattoos that crawl their way along his skin. "Do you like them?" He suddenly asks, his tone indifferent.
전정국 x f!reader ˖ ࣪ ꉂ🗯˙ ‹— cw dilf!jungkook single dad jungkook nanny!reader 1980s au slowburn fluff angst (eventual) explicit content age gap (jungkook is 30, reader is 20) oc!cassian/oc!rayne (jk's children) unnamed tension between reader & jungkook
⧽ word count ⋮ 5.9k
average reading time ⋮ 30 minutes
── [ ✉️ ] This chapter is, hm, it's the foreplay in a way. Next chapter is the climax, so think of this as the leading act that's going to take us down this imaginary and heated road. And uh, if that made no sense then just enjoy the chapter and we can meet on the other side! Slightly worried about the quality of this chapter (?) Let's pray I'm being delusional. Feedback in the comments/reblogs and asks are much appriciated <3
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chapter 09 — "dirty dancing"
The October air — clinging to the remnants of warmth and the last rays of the sun — eventually froze into a chilly cold as November rolled around. The trees lost their final leaves and the world went from orange, to a dull brown in a matter of weeks. Morning light broke the sky later and darkness intruded by five in the afternoon.
Halloween passed in regular fashion, with children crowding the streets as they went trick or treating. You had asked Jungkook if you could take Rayne and Cassian but due to the elder feeling unwell, any plans of dressing the kids up in scary costumes diminished into nothing again.
Perhaps that was for the best. Your mid term exams were coming up. Whenever you weren't at the Jeon estate, your time was spent crouched over your desk as you revised the human anatomy until your head pounded and your eyes bled. Though your efforts paid off and you ended up passing without much trouble.
Your ankle healed just like you knew it would. It took nearly three weeks until you were able to walk normally on both feet without pain — but the reward was unlike anything else. Now you were looking forward to playing with the children normally, no longer a slave to whatever chair or couch in sight.
You had also taken it upon yourself to quit the few evenings spent working at the restaurant just below your apartment. Due to your unforeseen injury you had ended up missing a great deal of the sparse shifts you had — and Jungkook paid you enough to no longer be reliant on a second source of income.
It was only around four-thirty but the sun had already began it's slow descent down the horizon. Upstairs the children were occupied with their studies and you had left only to get them something to snack on as they worked.
The kitchen is silent — just as the rest of the house was during homework time. Jungkook had left for work just as you arrived an hour prior. Your knuckle had been a breath away from knocking when the door had swung open as a fully-suited Jungkook stumbled out.
Your joint bodies nearly collided over the threshold and you just about managed to save yourself from an even more embarrassing ordeal as you pulled back. Jungkook had muttered an apology, bowing his head and mentioning something about the children being in their rooms. Then he'd brushed past you and headed over to his car without another word.
There was no saying when he would be back — during the past week or so he'd been working far longer than usual. You thought about asking if there was anything going on with his business, though figured it might not be your place. So you kept silent, pouring your attention on the children instead — that was why you were here after all.
The sound of your footsteps seem to echo throughout the house when you enter the kitchen. You had grown accustomed to the way things were organized by now. You knew which drawer held the cutlery — well versed in where he kept big and small plates, the bowls belonging on an entirely separate shelf.
Though there is something else that catches your eye upon rounding the marble kitchen island. Stuck to the surface of the fridge was an anomaly so tiny that you could have almost missed it, had it not been for the stark and contrasting color against the grey steel.
Your fingers brush against its sharp edge — picking it from the fridge, you cradle the small sticky note in your palm. The green paper appears brighter under the kitchen light and your thumb strokes over the cursive letters written down. Without meaning to, the corner of your lip tugs into a quiet smile as you read the message he'd left, the handwriting so familiar and so undoubtedly his:
"Children's dinner is on the top shelf. There's some for you as well."
It had been about two weeks since you and Jungkook introduced this new tradition of leaving small notes for each other around the house. They easily stuck to any surface and written down were little reminders of things that needed to be done. His were always short and simple, cutting straight to the point in that clean cursive that you had been having trouble deciphering at first.
You, on the other hand, tried to be a little more whimsy with yours — often leaving tiny doodles in the corner and finishing off with an exclamation mark. Jungkook never commented on your attempts at something artistic — though he did not complain about it either.
Folding the note up, you tuck it safely into the back pocket of your jeans, not because you intended to keep it or anything… It was simply in case you forgot. Better to keep it on hand so you could check again, right?
The children were grateful when you brought them the freshly cut apples and pears, quickly setting their homework aside for a moment to indulge in the simple snack.
"What are you working on?"
Pulling out a chair, you take a seat next to Rayne. She had what appeared to be a novel, placed out in front of her. Even as she chewed on a slice of apple, her brows furrowed in tune with the way her eyes tracked the words on the page. "Mm," She hums, not bothering with more of a response.
Half a minute later she turns the page, licking the tip of her finger in a way you had not seen any child do before. Her attention briefly turns to the apple as she finishes it down. "Homework," She states simply — already reaching for another slice as she competes with her brother for the bigger one.
"Hey— I wanted that!" Cassian whines as he attempts to snatch the fruit from his sister's grasp, much to no avail.
Nudging the plate in his direction, you give him a small smile. "There's plenty more for you to have," You say when handing him a slice of pear instead.
The children did not often bicker with one another, at least not in the same fashion siblings usually did — you would be lying if you said it wasn't nice to seem them argue like this, even if it was over something as petty as a slice of fruit.
Cassian seems content enough to eat what he was offered and quiets down again. You turn back to Rayne, folding your arms across the table as you lean forward to peek at the open pages. "Homework you said", Nodding toward the book, "That doesn't look like homework to me."
One thing you had learned about Rayne during these past weeks was that she needed quite the bit of push-back in order to draw an actual response from her.
It wasn't that she did not enjoy answering your pestering questions — for her eyes would light up with a spark they otherwise wouldn't when she got to talk about the books she had been reading. No, you had found that she simply needed more than a little nudge to actually open up about the things she liked.
"It is homework," Rayne bites back, though doesn't actually sound upset. "Mrs Mae told us to write down something we like about our favorite book." She picks the book up, tucking the bookmark between the two current pages before closing it to show off its cover, "I'm re-reading it so that I can write a good summary."
Your brows raise high on your forehead, "I see." It wasn't the idea of the assignment that surprised you — rather the book she had chosen. You point to the cover, one you recognized all too well from your high school years. "Frankenstein?"
Rayne nods, the corner of her lip pulling into a tiny grin. "Yeah," She says, one small finger tracing the engravings on the spine. "It's my favorite," And you could tell that it was by the way she cradled it so carefully, gaze clinging to the title like she never wanted to look away.
"What is it you like about it?" You ask, curiosity getting the better of you.
"Haven't you read it? It's a classic," She huffs, arching a brow your way.
You nod, "I have. But I'd like to hear your thoughts on it — think of it as practice for your summary."
Rayne hesitates, bottom lip jutting out in an unconscious pout as she considers the idea. "Well…" She begins, drawing her words out slowly as she thought long and hard about her answer. "I like the creature. I don't think he's evil, not the way people see him."
Her finger traces the edge of the book, "He's just misunderstood. It's not his fault that he is the way he is — Victor made him that way." Her brows furrow as her expression morphs into something more conflicted, "It must be scary to wake up and not know anything. I would be scared I think."
"Do you think the creature is scared?" You wonder, tilting your head to the side as you regard her. Cassian had stopped paying attention to his own homework, he was now munching quietly on the remaining slices of fruit as he listens to his sister.
Rayne nods, she didn't have to think about her response for long. "I know he is," There's sorrow in her voice when she speaks, like the thought of a fictional being still made her ache deep inside. "He's not a monster but he thinks he is. Victor made him, he should teach him kind things — but he leaves him because he thinks he's made a monster."
She shakes her head, fingers curling a little tighter around the book's spine. "They're wrong, they're all wrong. The creature is a human — just like Victor. He's made from human flesh, he was just born differently…"
You remain silent for a long moment, astonished by the empathy she holds for something so commonly portrayed as horrific by other people. "Do you think things could have turned out differently if Victor was kind to the creature?"
"Yes," Rayne says, "The creature only knows that he is bad because it is how he was treated ever since he was born. But if Victor told him that he was kind, then I think he would be." She hums quietly, nodding to herself as she fiddles with the bookmark.
"Would you say it's important to be kind then? Even if you're scared?"
She doesn't answer right away but you could see that she was considering your words carefully. The crease between her brows grows before it lessens and finally she nods with a quiet hum. "Yes. I think kindness can fix anything." Her eyes are glossed over with what looked to be unshed tears. You don't ask her about them — you don't pry even when you want to.
Instead you give her shoulder a gentle pat, picking the book from her hands to open it on the page she had bookmarked. "I think your summary will turn out great," You hum, placing the book back down in front of her with a small tap.
Rayne nods mutely, inhaling sharply before turning her attention back to the pages she'd been so immersed in a few minutes prior.
You wrapped up their study session half an hour earlier that day — neither of the children objected, which was a first. They followed you downstairs, waiting patiently on the stools next to the kitchen island when you heated up the food Jungkook had prepared — by now you knew perfectly well how to work their expensive microwave.
Just like his note had promised, there was an additional box left on the top shelf for you as well. "Will you be eating with us, nanny?" Cassian had asked when he saw you grab three plates rather than two.
"Mhm," You hum, pulling the drawer open to grab forks and knives for you all, "Your dad made some food for me as well."
Through the corner of your eye, you thought you could see Rayne mumble something under her breath, though what she said had been too quiet for you to catch. You brush it off, focusing on plating dinner for the children before tackling your own serving.
You ate in silence for the most part. It wasn't uncomfortable, in fact it had become somewhat of a routine during meal times. Dining in each other's presence seemed more than enough for the children and the idea warmed your chest.
"Anything fun happening at school this week?" You ask between bites, barely glancing up from your plate as you move your food around. Jungkook's cooking was not bad, quite the contrary. He paid just as much attention to detail when it came to his meals as he did everything else in his life.
On the opposite side of the kitchen island Cassian shrugs. "Not really," He says, shoving a piece of broccoli past his lips as he chews slowly. Rayne shakes her head beside him, a non-verbal response that she seemed particularly fond of.
You hum, dropping the subject all together again when neither appeared interested in the conversation. The kids didn't share much about their days. Cassian would occasionally mention a game he'd played during their break with his friends or repeat a silly joke he'd heard.
Rayne never contributed. It was obvious that she had little to say, if anything at all. You want to ask about her friends — though you already knew the answer. She did not have many, possibly none. Try as you might, but you couldn't warp your head around why. She was a really sweet girl once you got to know her.
The thought of her sitting alone during the lunch hour and walking herself to class everyday made something uncomfortable twist deep inside your gut. Perhaps you should tell Jungkook — perhaps he already knew. The situation continued to weigh heavy on your mind for the rest of your shared meal.
When dinner came to an end you helped the children wash up before bed. This too, had become part of a routine that seemed more than normal by this point. You would go about fluffing up their pillows, laying out pajamas on their beds and drawing the curtains as the kids brushed their teeth in the bathroom.
Once they were done you came to inspect their hard work. Rayne did well but more than often would you have to send Cassian back for a second round of brushing, 'And don't forget your tongue!' you would call out after him.
After a few bumps on the road, both children were finally tucked into bed. Cassian gratefully accepted a kiss on the forehead while Rayne settled for a small hug and a soft smile. Closing the door to her room gently, you pause in order to throw a glance down the hall.
The locked door at the far end still intrigued you, often you would catch your gaze wandering in its direction — wondering what had Jungkook keeping it under such strict supervision. In the end you knew that you would be none the wiser, unless he chose to share its secrets with you.
When making your way back downstairs, you go on to tidy up the mess that dinner had left behind. Cleaning gave you time to think — for better or worse. And as you turn on the faucet, getting ready to wash the plates and boxes you had ate from — your mind starts to wander.
It would be a blatant lie to say that Jungkook did not inhabit most of your thoughts as of late. He would appear when you least expected him to. Worst of all was the fact that you were unable to pinpoint exactly what about him you were so stuck up on. Which part of him had your brain become so strangely fascinated with — and why?
He paid you to take care of his children. That was all. That was the only way you should think of him, the only way you should let yourself see him. So why is your mind conjuring these strange images out of things that do not and most certainly should not exist?
Often do you find yourself comparing him to the guys you would meet at the bars downtown. That had been your first mistake. The last thing you should do was think of Jungkook in the same light you had thought of those flirty, wasted young-adults — least of all the ones you had been romantic with.
Jungkook did not belong in that category of your life and he never would.
And yet, you continue to picture him in their place. Those useless conversations over the loud music, the drunken confessions about how hot you look, the invasive touches and sleazy pickup lines. You erase them — all too easily replacing the 20-something guys' crooked smirks with Jungkook's dark eyes and quiet demeanor.
You imagine lingering glances, brief touches that somehow feel like more than they truly are. And sometimes — when your thoughts spiraled far beyond your control — did you dare think about what it could be like to meet him elsewhere. Would things look different, would he let his gaze linger on you with something other than cold indifference? Would he—
Shaking your head abruptly, you pry the the thoughts aside as you finish scrubbing the last plate. It's set to dry with the rest and you instead turn to the fridge as you pull it open and rummage through it for ingredients.
You had at least one good hour and a half before Jungkook was to return home — in the meantime, you cooked a simple meal which you then transferred to one of the boxes you had just finished cleaning out. It wasn't much, not by any means, though you hoped it would still be enjoyable after a long day of work.
Once the lid is in place comes your favorite part. Fishing out the stack of pink sticky notes from your jean pocket — you search the area for a pencil. Finding a discarded one on the hallway dresser just outside the kitchen, you swivel back toward the counter before putting the ink onto the paper.
Your handwriting is nowhere near as neat as Jungkook's, still, you cannot keep the smile from your face when you scribble down a short but sweet message:
"Food was delicious! Thought I'd return the favour, I hope it's to your liking :)"
You waste a couple of minutes on drawing stars, a tiny sun in the upper corner and some clouds to accompany it. Suppose it was a little excessive but you felt it gave the little note a personal touch. When you're done you stick it onto the lid before stuffing the now prepped box back into the neatly organised fridge.
Silence was no stranger within the Jeon house — it lives in each room, clinging to the walls and settling over the furniture like it had always belonged. But you were no stranger to the Jeon house either. The dense and quiet air did not bother you, at least not for the most part. Usually you could tell yourself that the children were asleep upstairs — that would be enough to soothe your worrisome mind.
Tonight things feel different. And as the evening hours passed by slowly, you couldn't shake the lonely feeling creeping its way up your spine. Each creak and groan of the house as it settled made you jump — and the wind hurling outside reminded you of a shrilling scream.
To calm your sudden nerves, you opt for reading. The couch is familiar when you settle down on it, and yet it feels too big when you stretch your limbs out across the cushion. The book you cradle in your hands was the first thing you had found, its title insignificant when you hastily opened it and began to read.
The words on the paper do their best in pulling you away from the silent house, distracting you as they paint vivid images of dwindling rivers and tall pine trees. It works for a brief moment — but each time the wind knocks a little too loud against the windows, your focus is disrupted again.
A particularly loud snap in the old wood jolts you from the page entirely. With your heart in your throat you glance both left and right, finding nothing but a vacant, boring living room.
Your gaze returns to the vintage clock above the fireplace. Only a handful of minutes had passed since last you had checked — even when it felt far longer. And by eight thirty you could no longer bear the deafening silence that seemed to crowd you.
The book is tossed onto the coffee table carelessly. Instead your attention zeroes in on the remote control, laying so innocently atop the table's sleek surface. You turn the device over in your hands, fingers brushing over the variety of buttons in front of you.
Truth to be told, the big, chunky box that was the TV had intrigued you for weeks now. It was the kind of luxury that you could not afford in your own home — of course, the Jeon estate housed one — and who were you not to take advantage of that?
What little knowledge you had on Television came from the few times you would stop in front of the ones displayed in shopping windows or at the café just outside your school. They would broadcast the news for the most part — though sometimes music would be shown as well, singing and dancing — you liked that.
This however, this was different. Your gaze scans the assortment of buttons, trying your hardest to decipher each one of them in order to find the one that would power on the TV. In the end you settle for a red one — it sticks out among the rest, that had to mean something, right?
Pointing the remote toward the chunky, black box, you press the button.
It takes a moment. In fact it takes quite a while for something to happen — in the meantime you had already managed to press an additional three buttons to try and coax a reaction from the device. Alas, the TV turns on in the end. A grainy image floods the screen — no, a moving image.
Entranced by the sight in front of you, the remote control falls from your grasp as you lean forward. The movie playing on screen wasn't one you had recalled seeing before, as you frequently treated yourself to the cinema whenever time would allow it. You quickly guess that it was a rom-com, given the cheesy dialogue and over exaggerated sound effects.
Curling up on the sofa — you bring your arms around your legs before resting your chin atop your knees. The movie was a welcome distraction as it easily filled the silence that had been haunting you since putting the children to bed. You find yourself getting lost in the premise, quickly catching on despite having missed the first half of it.
Another half an hour passes — this time in a blur. When the clock strikes nine, you can hear the front door unlocking, followed by the thud of heavy steps against the hallway floor. Jungkook was home — which meant this was your cue to leave. You should be getting up and shutting the TV off, and yet for some reason, you don't move.
The movie was reaching its final act and you wanted to stick around for the end, at least, that's what you told yourself.
Your gaze has yet to stray from the grainy images on screen — still curled up in the same position you had been for the past thirty minutes. You don't move, even as you listen to the sound of heavy footsteps against the carpet down the hall, signaling Jungkook's approach.
He pauses in the doorway, you thought you could see his dark, imposing figure through the corner of your eye. His presence is all the more palpable when he'd been on your mind for the greater part of the day — and not for reasons he should be.
You swallow, arms hugging your legs a little tighter. Could he tell what you so desperately tried to hide? You hoped not. "How was work?" Clearing your throat, you try to feign nonchalance when you greet him, still not giving him the courtesy of meeting his gaze.
To your left, Jungkook shifts where he stands, the soft, almost inaudible sound slices through your ears. "It was alright," His voice is a low rasp — he sounds tired, but then again, he often did when he arrived back home after a long day. You knew that commenting on it would do more harm than good, so you keep quiet, your attention still tuned in on the TV.
A minute passes, perhaps two — you couldn't tell. But when the cushion suddenly dips, your body locks up. It takes you about half a second to realize that Jungkook had just taken the seat beside you on the couch. The additional weight and the closeness of his body makes the once large sofa seem incredibly small — and hot.
"What are you watching?" He grunts, though doesn't sound particularly interested in hearing your answer.
You peer at him as best as you can without making it obvious, eyes trailing over his figure where he leans back against the couch. His legs are spread out and his arms have come to rest across the back of the couch.
"Just some silly romance movie," You huff, trying to downplay the corny film as you chew on the inside of your cheek.
Though your attention is fixed on his attire rather than what was happening on the TV. The black dress pants he wears are a familiar sight, as is the button up and the tie — loosened around his neck. The cufflinks are undone, his sleeves bunched up to his elbows, doing a most taunting job at displaying the tattoos that crawl their way along his skin.
"Do you like them?" He suddenly asks, his tone indifferent.
Did you— What? Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly like a fish out of water. Gaze darting between his face and the sleeve full of tattoos — was he seriously asking you about that? Should you answer him honestly, or would that give off the wrong impression?
Your attention lingers for a moment too long on the symbols splayed across his knuckles, then over to the flower that crept its way up the side of his hand…
Jungkook turns his head just enough for his dark eyes to meet yours. His brows furrow across his forehead when he catches the look on your face. The corner of his lip twitching with something unspoken before he nods toward the TV. "Do you like them?" He repeats, his voice never rising above its default low tune.
You follow his gaze toward the chunky box, watching as the man on screen confesses his love in front of the female lead. Oh. "The movies—?" You splutter, feeling slightly ridiculous at having misinterpreted his innocent question like that.
He nods, tongue darting out to swipe across his bottom lip. "Romance," He then clarifies, "Do you like it?" His attention is no longer on the movie but on you, regarding you with quiet intensity.
"I…" Shifting uncomfortably in your seat, your fingers curl around the fabric of your pants when you give a half-hearted shrug, "Well I suppose I do— I mean, doesn't everyone?" You thought romance to be quite enjoyable. It was cheesy enough for people to make fun of it, even when they all secretly longed for the very same thing themselves.
Jungkook doesn't give a verbal response as he turns back to the TV screen — caught up in watching the couple, who were now kissing each other passionately as a soft violin played in the background. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, the slight crease between his dark brows giving nothing away — it bothers you more than you'd ever want to admit.
"Do you like them?" You bring yourself to ask the question back, turning just enough to face him rather than the movie, arms still snug around your legs when you hook your chin over your knees a second time.
It takes him a moment to answer, but after a prolonged silence he nods slowly. "I do," He muses, and you're taken aback by the quiet admission. You hadn't pegged him for a cheesy rom-com enthusiast — then again — there was so much you had yet to uncover about him.
Cocking your head to the side, a smug grin tugs its way across your lips. "Do you have a favorite?" There was some intent behind the question sure, but most of all you were curious — a man like him? Being into romance?
Jungkook remains motionless where he sits, arms still stretched out behind him. His frown deepens and he appears almost conflicted, "I didn't know having a favorite was a requirement. Is it not enough to simply enjoy the movies?" He mutters gruffly, seemingly uninterested in probing the matter further.
"No…" Your voice ebbs out into a sigh as you regard him with a puzzled frown, "But come on, there must be at least one you like a little extra?"
His fingers tap against the backrest of the couch, dark eyes fixed on something you had yet to find. After a moment's of long and tedious silence he finally rolls his shoulders enough to mimic a shrug, "Dirty Dancing is good I suppose." He grumbles the words out like they physically pained him — and if you had to guess, they did.
"Really?" Brows shooting high on your forehead, you gape at him, "You're not just saying that are you?"
He scoffs at that, his jaw clenching when he turns his head the other way. "Why?" He says it like an accusation, "Somethin' wrong with that?"
You can't help the giggle that bubbles in your chest when met with his immediate defensiveness. One hand coming up to cover your mouth, your arms uncurl around your legs as you attempt to sit up a little straighter. "Seriously?" Leaning to the side, you attempt to catch a glimpse of the expression he wears — but Jungkook keeps his head stubbornly turned away.
Pursing your lips, you slump back against the sofa, your hand falling to your lap when the laughter fades away. "It's not wrong at all," You murmur — and it truly wasn't. It was just… So strange, you could hardly picture the same brooding man currently sat next to you, indulging himself in something like Dirty Dancing.
You still remember how scandalized you'd felt when leaving the cinema upon its premier. The erotic dances, the lingering glances, hot touches and—
"I like it too," Sending him a small but genuine smile, you try to smooth over the little bump you'd accidentally created, "We could watch it sometime." You regret the proposal the second it leaves your lips, your better judgment already scolding you.
But Jungkook appears indifferent where he sits. His gaze had returned to the TV, his gaze flickering over the black screen where the credits had begun to roll. Only then did you realize how much time had passed and that you should probably get going sooner rather than later.
"Well I—" Rising to your feet, your hands occupy themselves with brushing off imaginary dust from your jeans, "—Should get going. It's late."
Jungkook glances up at you through his dark lashes, though says nothing as he gives a soft grunt in return. You clear your throat, nodding before turning and heading out of the living room on light feet.
The hallway stretches on longer than usual tonight — or maybe you were simply in a rush to get out of the front door before your previous conversation had the chance to catch up to you. Of course, you never truly had such luck.
You've got your shoes halfway, fingers clumsily fiddling with the stubborn laces when you hear the sound of a floorboard creaking somewhere in the distance. Jungkook's steps are slower than your own, determined in his approach.
He comes to a halt a few feet away, close enough to where you could clearly pick up on each breath he took — far enough for the intoxicating scent of his cologne to not reach you. With his arms folded across his chest, he leans against the wall, his shoulders pulled into a rigid line that still somehow betrays the exhaustion simmering beneath the surface.
The silence stretches thick and uncomfortable until you finally pull yourself to your feet after tightening the shoelaces. You reach for your coat, moving slow as to not make another clumsy mistake.
"I uh…" Your throat feels dry and you could not understand why your heart was trying to claw its way out of your ribcage whenever he was around."I left you something to eat in the fridge," You say, jutting your chin in the direction of the kitchen.
Jungkook gives but a small tilt of his head in acknowledgement, his eyes tracking the movement of your arms when you loop them through your coat. You fiddle with the buttons, fingers moving hastily over each one of them. His gaze weighs heavy on you and the moment seems to drag on with painful deliberation.
"Alright," You huff when finally fastening the last button, turning to face him with a tight-lipped smile, "I'll see you tomorrow then…?" What an utterly ridiculous question, of course you were to see him tomorrow.
But he only hums, and before you can even blink, he's taking a step forward — and then another. Your eyes widen to a comical size, limbs locking up when he suddenly comes close enough for your chests to touch.
Confused and perhaps a little breathless, you glance up at him with a puzzled frown. Jungkook, on the other hand, simply ignores the look on your face as he leans forward. He reaches past you, his arm brushing against your shoulder in the process — and all you can think of is how warm his skin feels even through the layers of clothes separating you.
It's the sound of a lock being freed from its cage that finally makes you understand what he was trying to do. Gingerly you step aside as you allow him to open the front door for you — perhaps he was similarly eager for you to take your leave.
The scent of his perfume is stronger now, its pungent smell radiating off of him in harsh waves before crashing against you like sea to shore. You can't help but inhale, if only just to swallow down another breath of air into your lungs. His arm is outstretched where he keeps the door open for you, his jaw clenched with something he refused to name.
You clear your throat, ducking your head when brushing past him. The November air is chilly — even more so when it was the heat of Jungkook's body so close to your own that you were leaving behind.
"Goodnight then," You smile, raising a hesitant hand to give him a tiny wave.
Jungkook does not reciprocate it but he nods — and if you listened close enough, you thought you could hear him utter a quiet 'Goodnight' under his breath before closing the door behind him again.
Warnings: Drinking, intoxication, sugar daddying (Will update as chapters progress)
Summary: When a guarded billionaire offers you a paid arrangement, his money in exchange for your companionship, it sounds simple. No expectations. No emotions. Just fun for both of you. But somewhere between luxury trips, late-night conversations, and the way he almost kisses you on a moonlit beach, the lines between business and something far more dangerous begin to blur.
Word Count: 3,495
New series starting if anyone wants to read it
Chapter 1-Pastries and Powdered Sugar
You hadn’t even wanted to go out. The week had been long, your boss had been unbearable, and your couch had looked very comfortable. But your friends had dragged you out anyway, promising loud music, cheap drinks, and the kind of night you would be thankful you didn’t miss later.
So you found yourself in the middle of a crowded club, lights flashing across the dance floor while bass vibrated through the walls like a second heartbeat. Your friend shoved your favorite drink into your hand, “Stop looking like a miserable sourpuss who was forced to be here.”, she shouted over the music.
You rolled your eyes but took a sip anyway. The first drink went down easy. The second went down easier. By the third you were leaning against the booth laughing at something that wasn’t even that funny while the music blurred into a steady thrum behind you.
That was when the waiter appeared. He set a tray of colorful drinks down on your table. You frowned, “Uh…we didn’t order these.” The waiter smiled politely and pointed across the club, “They’ve already been paid for.”
You followed his gesture. Across the room sat a group of guys in a booth slightly elevated from the dance floor up in the VIP section. They looked relaxed, like they owned the place without needing to prove it.
One of them was watching you. About your age, maybe a little older. Black hair. Dark clothes. Calm eyes that didn’t dart away when you noticed him staring. Instead, he lifted his glass slightly in a silent toast. Your friend immediately leaned over you. “Y/N…Oh my god.”, she whispered loudly, “He’s hot.”
You hesitated for about three seconds. Then you grabbed one of the drinks and stood up. “Well...”, you said, smoothing your hair, “It would be rude not to say thank you.” Your friends cackled behind you as you walked across the club.
The booth grew quieter as you approached. The man watching you leaned back casually, one arm draped along the spot next to him. You stopped at the edge of the table. “So.”, you said, holding up the drink, “I’m assuming this was you.”
One corner of his mouth lifted, “Yeah it was.” His voice was low. Calm. A little rough and a lot sexy. He gestured to the empty spot beside him, “Sit.” You raised an eyebrow as you were not usually one to take commands from a man, especially one you didn’t know, but there was something about his confidence that got to you and you slid into the seat anyway.
“I’m Yoongi.”, he said. “Y/N.”, you introduced yourself. His friends greeted you politely before returning to their conversation, clearly used to this sort of thing.
The night moved fast after that. You talked. You laughed. You drank.
Yoongi didn’t talk much at first, but when he did it was always something dry that made you laugh harder than you expected. At some point the music pulled you both onto the dance floor. That was where things really shifted. Your arms ended up around his shoulders. His hands rested low on your waist.
The alcohol had made you bold and the way he looked at you didn’t exactly discourage it. You swayed against him, laughing when he leaned closer to say something in your ear. “Careful darling.”, he murmured, “You’re getting dangerous.”
“You bought me the drinks.”, you teased, “This is your fault.” He huffed a quiet laugh.
The night blurred after that. You remembered dancing. You remembered leaning into him. You remembered spilling something sticky and cold down the front of your dress while trying to take another drink. “Oh my god.”, you had gasped, mortified when you noticed some of it got on his shirt too. He just looked down at the mess and sighed but at least he was smiling.
After that, things became even fuzzier. You remembered leaving the club. The cold night air a welcomed and much needed relief. His hand steadying you when you stumbled. The quiet of a car. His voice asking your address. You protesting and him promising he wouldn’t do anything other than get you into your bed safely. You whispered it and then…nothing.
Morning arrived like a hammer to your skull. You groaned and buried your face in your pillow. Your mouth felt dry. Your head throbbed. Slowly you sat up and got out of bed. Your apartment looked normal. Shoes by the door. Blanket half on the couch. But as you shuffled into the kitchen for water and much needed coffee, something caught your eye.
A piece of paper on the counter. You frowned and walked closer. There was a neat stack of cash sitting on top of it. Your brain stalled. You picked up the note. Written in simple, slightly slanted handwriting was a phone number.
Under it, a name.
Yoongi
Below that was a short message:
You spilled a drink all over yourself. Buy some new clothes.
You stared at the money. There was…a lot of it. You could probably buy a hundred of those dresses and still have some left over.
Your memory flickered. A flash of the club lights. Your hands on his shoulders while you danced. His breath on your neck. You rubbed your temple, “Who the hell…?”
The name sat on the page like it was supposed to mean something.
Yoongi.
You didn’t remember everything. But you did remember the way he had looked at you. Calm and amused and intrigued. Like the whole night had been a private joke only he understood.
You looked down at the phone number again. Your confusion only grew. Who was this man and why did he leave you a stack of cash like that?Your thumb hovered over your phone. The number stared back at you from the note on the counter.
You turned one of the bills over again. Definitely real. “Okay.”, you thought to yourself, “Either I met a really generous stranger who really over estimated the cost of an H&M dress…or I accidentally robbed someone.”
You picked up your phone. Your thumb moved toward the call button. Before you could press it-
BANG BANG BANG.
You jumped so hard you nearly threw the phone. The knocking came again, louder.
“OPEN UP!”
You groaned immediately, “Go away, Jimin.”
The door swung open anyway because, unfortunately he was your best friend and he had a key and treated the place like his own. He burst into the apartment like a human wrecking ball.
His blonde hair was a mess, sunglasses perched dramatically on his face despite the fact that you were indoors.“YOU!”, he stopped mid-sentence. His eyes locked onto the money on the counter. Then slowly slid up to you, “Y/N you absolute menace.”
You blinked, “Please don’t start. I just woke up and have the worst hangover.” He ignored that, “Do you have any idea what you did last night?” Your stomach sank, “That sentence never leads to anything good.” Jimin slapped both hands on the counter and leaned forward like he was interrogating you. “You.”, he said slowly, dramatically, “left a club with Min Yoongi.”
You paused. Then you blinked, “Yeah.”, you said carefully, “That sounds right. His name was Yoongi.” Jimin ripped his sunglasses off his face, “No not just Yoongi. THE Min Yoongi.” You stared at him, “I’m gonna need you to use more words.”Jimin made a strangled noise and grabbed his phone, frantically tapping the screen before shoving it in your face, “THIS Min Yoongi!”
On the screen was a photo. A sharp-dressed man stepping out of a luxurious black car, cameras flashing around him. Same black hair. Same calm expression. Same dark eyes. Your stomach dropped straight through the floor, “That…that’s the guy.”
“THAT’S THE GUY?”, he screeched. You winced, “Yes??”
“Do you know who that is?!”, he questioned. “You keep asking that like I’m supposed to say yes!”, you exclaimed. Jimin began pacing your kitchen like a tiny, furious storm cloud, “Min Yoongi owns Agust Corp.”
You shrugged still unsure of how that was supposed to mean anything to you. Jimin yelled, “He owns half the country! Hell, he owns pieces of like twelve others! Real estate, tech, restaurants, hotels, music labels. If it’ll make him money he’s got a part of it.” He pointed dramatically at the phone, “That man is one of the wealthiest people in the world!”
Your brain attempted to process that information, “…What?”Jimin gestured at the stack of money, “DO YOU THINK REGULAR MEN LEAVE PEOPLE A CASUAL THOUSAND DOLLARS BECAUSE THEY SPILLED SOMETHING ON THEIR DRESS?”
You looked down at the note and the cash. Then back at the phone. Then back at the cash, “That’s more than a thousand.” Jimin let out a noise that sounded like a choking seagull. You rubbed your face, “Okay, hold on. Wait…Let’s slow down.” You pointed to the note, “So you’re telling me…the guy I danced with all night…the guy I spilled a drink on…”
“Yes.”, Jimin nodded. You continued, “The guy who drove me home…” He nodded hard, “Yes!”
“…is a billionaire?”
Jimin leaned across the counter, “Yes.”
You stared at the wall for a full five seconds. Then groaned and dropped your head onto the counter, “Oh my god.” Jimin smacked your shoulder, “HOW DID YOU NOT RECOGNIZE HIM?”
“I was drunk!”, you sighed. Jimi smacked your shoulder again, “He’s on the news!”
“I don’t watch the news!”, you whined. He only got louder, “He’s on magazine covers!” You shrugged nonchalantly, “I read books!”
“He’s literally one of the most powerful people in the world!”, Jimin laughed almost mockingly. You lifted your head slowly, “And he watched me try to do the worm on a dance floor.” Jimin’s face twisted, “…You did the worm?” He rubbed his temples, “Oh my god Y/N.”
You grabbed the note again, staring at the number. Your stomach twisted, “What was he doing with me?” Jimin immediately leaned forward, eyes sparkling with gossip-hungry energy, “THAT’S WHAT I WANT TO KNOW TOO.”
You looked down at the phone number. Your brain replayed a moment from the night before.
His hands on your waist. His low voice in your ear.
Careful darling. You’re getting dangerous.
Your face warmed, “I don’t remember half of what happened,” you admitted. Jimin grabbed the note and shoved it back toward you, “Well…”, he said, eyes gleaming, “Text the billionaire who left you his number.”
You stared at the phone like it might explode. Jimin stared at you like you were holding the winning lottery ticket and refusing to scratch it.“Text him.”, he whispered. You glared at him, “Why are you whispering? He’s not in the room.”
“Y/N. TEXT. HIM.”, he said firmly. You sighed dramatically and picked up the phone. Your thumbs hovered over the screen. What exactly did someone say to a billionaire they drunkenly danced on?
You typed.
Hi…this is Y/N. From last night. Thanks for the money. You really shouldn’t have.
You stared at the message. Jimin leaned so far over your shoulder he was practically breathing in your ear, “Send it.”
“I hate you.”, you hit send anyway.
Then immediately threw the phone onto the counter like it had burned you. Jimin gasped, “Oh my god what if he doesn’t respond?”
Your phone buzzed. Both of you froze. Slowly…you picked it up.
A message feom Yoongi. Your heart thumped once in your chest as you opened it.
Morning. Glad you survived.
You blinked. Jimin grabbed your arm, “WHAT DOES IT SAY?”
Another message appeared.
Brunch?
You stared. Then the next text came through.
11:30. I’ll send the address.
You blinked again. He had already sent it.
Jimin squealed so loudly you were certain you’d get a noise complaint from your neighbors, “Y/N, You have to go.”
“No.”, you shook your head. He nodded, “You HAVE to go.” You shook your head harder this time, “Absolutely not.” Jimin grabbed both your shoulders, “YOU LEFT A CLUB WITH A BILLIONAIRE.”
“And?”
“And now he wants to have brunch with you!”, he practically screamed. You groaned and collapsed against the counter, “I embarrassed myself enough last night.” Jimin shoved the phone back toward you, “You are going.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
You glared at each other. Jimin clasped his hands dramatically, “Please Y/N.” He moved closer to you, “PLEASE. I want to know what it’s like to drink champagne on a yacht instead of gas station beer in a duct taped kiddie pool.”
You backed away, “No.” He begged, “I will do your laundry for a month.” You hesitated, “Two months.” He smiled wider, “Done.” You sighed, “Fine.” Jimin screamed like you had just gifted him a new car on a game show.
An hour later you were standing outside the fanciest restaurant you had ever seen in your life. You stared up at the building.
White marble. Exotic flowers. Tall spotless windows. Valets. People walking in wearing clothes that probably cost more than your rent. You looked down at your outfit. Nice, but…normal. You suddenly felt like someone who had wandered into the wrong movie timeline.
Jimin had practically shoved you out the door earlier, “Text me EVERYTHING”, he shouted as he slammed the door and locked it behind you.
You stepped inside. The restaurant was quiet and elegant. White table cloths. A fancy ice sculpture off to the side. Soft music played somewhere in the background.
A host approached you, “Reservation?” You nodded, “Probably…Maybe under Min Yoongi?” The host’s expression shifted instantly like he was ashamed of even questioning you, “Of course.” He led you toward the back of the restaurant where sunlight spilled through tall windows.
And there he was. Yoongi sat at a table near the glass, dressed in simple black. No flashy suit, no dramatic display of wealth, just calm confidence like the world naturally arranged itself around him. He looked up when you approached. Those same dark eyes. God this man was even more beautiful in the daylight. Recognition flickered in his eyes immediately. Your stomach dropped straight into your shoes.
You stopped at the table. “Hi.”, you said awkwardly. Yoongi stood, “Good Morning Y/N.” His voice was just as low and velvety as you remembered. You immediately started rambling, “I am so sorry about last night…I didn’t realize who you were and I was drunk and I spilled a drink on you and apparently I did the worm…” Yoongi blinked once. Then held up a hand, “Stop.” You instantly froze. You hated that he had control like that over you. He pulled out the chair across from him, “You didn’t commit a crime.”
“It sure feels like one.”, you mumbled. He encouraged you to sit, “You were having fun.” You sat slowly, “But I embarrassed myself.” He shrugged slightly, “You also made the night interesting.” You blinked. Was that amusement in his voice? Did he invite you here just to make fun of you to your face? A waiter appeared and handed you a menu. You opened it. Then nearly choked. Your eyes widened. These prices were different than the greasy takeout places you were used to. Who charges that much for a bowl of oatmeal with a few berries?
Your brain immediately switched to survival mode. Find the cheapest thing. You spotted it. A small breakfast sandwich near the bottom of the menu. Perfect. The waiter returned, “I’ll have the...”,
Yoongi’s voice cut in calmly as he dismissed the waiter, “Order something you actually want.” You looked up, “I am.” He gave you a look. The kind that said he absolutely did not believe you, “You looked at the bottom of the menu first.”, he said. Your face burned, “That’s a normal thing people do.”
“For people who pay attention to prices.”, he leaned back slightly in his chair, “You don’t need to do that when you’re with me.” Your stomach twisted, “I’m not used to this kind of place or not having to worry about the bill.” He smiled, “I noticed.” You opened your mouth to argue. But he nodded toward the menu again, “Pick something that sounds good.” Your fingers fidgeted with the edge of the paper, “Are you sure?” He nodded, “Yes.”
“Really sure?”, you asked again. “Yes.”, he sighed but not angrily. You glanced back down. There was something on the menu you had noticed earlier. A ridiculously indulgent brunch plate with pancakes, eggs, fruit, and some kind of fancy pastry you couldn’t even pronounce. It looked amazing. You cleared your throat, “Okay.” When the waiter returned you ordered it. Yoongi didn’t react. He simply ordered his own food and handed the menu back.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then you looked at him again. The memory of the stack of cash on your counter flickered back into your mind. Confusion twisted in your chest. You leaned forward slightly, “Can I ask you something? Yoongi rested his elbow on the table, “Sure.”
You hesitated. Then said the question that had been circling your brain all morning, “What were you doing with me last night?”His expression didn’t change. But one corner of his mouth lifted slightly, “You walked over to my table.” You narrowed your eyes, “That’s not what I mean and you know it.” He studied you for a moment, “You looked like the most interesting person in the room.” You tried to speak but the waiter interrupted.
Your food arrived faster than you expected. A plate the size of a small continent was set in front of you with fluffy pancakes dusted with powdered sugar, glossy fruit, perfectly scrambled eggs, and a delicate looking pastry with gold flakes that looked like it belonged in a magazine. You stared at it. “Wow.”, you gasped. Yoongi’s plate was significantly simpler. Eggs, toast, coffee. Of course the billionaire ordered like a normal person.
You picked up your fork slowly, still feeling slightly like the manager might walk over and kick you out for being in the wrong place. Yoongi took a sip of his coffee, watching you in that calm, observant way that made you feel like he noticed everything. Your brain kept circling the same question. Finally you set your fork down. “Okay.”, you said,” Last night.” He nodded once, “What about it now?”
“You still haven’t really explained it.”, you said. You gestured vaguely between the two of you. “You’re…”, you struggled for the right word, “…you.”
“And you’re you.”, he said. You sighed, “Why me out of all the women that were there last night?” That made him pause for a second. Then he shrugged lightly, “I thought you were beautiful.”
The words landed so casually you almost didn’t process them. Your fork froze halfway to your mouth. He continued like it was the most normal explanation in the world, “You looked like you were actually enjoying yourself. Most people in those places are trying too hard to be noticed.”You huffed, “I spilled a drink on you.” He smiled, “You did…on my favorite shirt too.” You winced, “I attempted the worm.” He laughed, “You definitely did.” You buried your face in your hands. When you looked up, Yoongi looked entertained.
You poked at your pancakes again. Still, something nagged at you. You looked up again, “Okay but seriously.” He waited. You continued, “What are your motives?” His eyes narrowed slightly. You gestured around the restaurant, “You’re clearly not the kind of guy who just randomly hangs out with people like me.” His expression didn’t change, but he set his fork down. There was a small pause. Then he leaned back slightly in his chair, “Alright.”
Your stomach flipped a little. “I’ll be honest with you.”, he said, “Because I don’t like wasting time or pretending things are something they aren’t.”You nodded slowly. He rested his arm against the table, “Y/ N…I enjoyed your company last night. You’re interesting. You’re funny. You’re beautiful. You’re not intimidated by me.” You blinked, “I’m a little intimidated.”
“Not enough to stop you from grinding on me.”, he grinned. You cringed, “…Fair.” He continued calmly, “I have a busy life. I travel a lot. I attend events I’d rather not go to alone and sometimes...”, he said, “It’s nice to have someone around who makes life more enjoyable.” Your fork slowly lowered back onto the plate. Your brain started connecting dots.
“Y/N I’d like to continue to see you.”, he said, “And if we did that.”, he added casually, “I would make sure you’re taken care of.” Your eyebrows pulled together, “Taken care of?”
“I’d compensate you.”, he said plainly. He continued like he was discussing something as simple as the weather, “I’d buy you nice things. Take you on luxurious trips. Bring you to fancy events. In exchange...”, he finished, “for your companionship.”
Silence fell over the table. Your brain replayed the words twice. Then three times. Finally you leaned back in your chair. And slowly as the realization hit you your eyes widened, “So basically…you want to be like my sugar daddy?”
He looked at you. Slowly. Confidently. Dangerously amused. He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The smirk told you everything.
pairing: student! fem reader x student! jeon jungkook
summary: when you finally get your crush’s number, you expect the start of an epic love story— not a random guy making fun of you because he thinks the guy you’ve been obsessed with for the last six months gave you a fake number. Jeon Jungkook, the one who replies, finds it entertaining and helps you chase the guy… at least until he finds out that the person he’s been helping date another guy is you, the girl he’s been obsessed with for the last two years.
genre/warning: this is a smau fic!! with narration included in every chapter but it’s mostly messages/tweets. very unfunny jokes. this is mostly crack/fluff.
authors note: ‘but u have to update ur other fic blah blah blah’ umm shut the fuck up?. anyway this is my first time attempting smau fics so be nice to me thank u. ngl i was VERY high writing this but it made me giggle when i read it again. hope u hehe a lil with this. iloveu.
i know this is not my usual type of writing but idk i was feeling silly and i always wanted to try smau. this is for giggles and shit! — gift credits in the watermark??
turnnoffyourmind
vaporwave
dailybridgerton
origamiaround
romaincrisis
gummygunk
