ઇ synopsis. ten years after leaving his quiet hometown, jungkook finally returns home for the holidays at his mother’s request. he’s built himself into a man feared for his fists and known for his trouble, but the only person he’s ever cared about is the one he left behind: you, his childhood sweetheart. as old memories resurface and buried feelings ignite, jungkook finds himself fighting the one battle he never learned to win: earning back the trust and heart of the girl he’s loved since they were kids.
ઇ pairing/genre. biker!jungkook x fem!oc, grumpy x sunshine, “he hates everyone but her + she loves everyone but him”, childhood frienemies to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, eventual smut
ઇ warnings/tags. mentions of injury, tiny bit of angst ( js a lil fight), 2 days time skip, yearner jk!! (wohooo), fluff!!, oc’s “friends” suck lwk (oc’s bestie got her back tho dw!!), we js love mandy, jk needa set some boundaries frfr, mentions of past hookups/masturbations, oblivious/naive oc, jealous jk, equally jealous oc, insecure oc :(, major misunderstanding, alcohol consumption, uncon touching (not jk), jk punches smo, the talk!!!!, silly tears, silly fight, fluffy fluff
ઇ wc. around 18k ,, part 1 (18k) ,, .. ,, part 3
roxe’s notes. it’s finally here guys u hv no idea how loud i was cheering (and stressing tf out) while posting this 🙏🏻 i swear this story took way longer than i planned, and yeah… it’s officially not a twoshot anymore. surprise! if you guessed a pt 3, u’re absolutely right!! i still hv sm planned for these two, i’m nowhere near done with them yet lols, stay with me a little longer, okay?
jungkook could barely see his own hands in front of his face. the wind screamed, and the snow was so deep it sucked at his boots with every step.
where are you? where the fuck are you? your name was the only thing in his head. he shouted it out loud, but the wind ripped the sound away. he felt like he was totally losing his mind. his heart was beating so damn fast and hard it was painful. he was sweating inside his jacket despite the cold that seared his skin.
if something happened to you..fuck– he couldn’t finish the thought. it felt like a black hole opening up in his chest. just let me find you. just be okay. fuck, be okay.
but then he heard it. a sharp, high bark.
he stopped, straining to listen. had he imagined it? but it came again, clearer this time. rocky.
“here! here, boy!” he yelled, pushing toward the sound.
he saw a dark, scruffy shape moving in the blur. it was rocky. the little dog barked once at him, then turned and darted a few feet away, stopping to look back.
jungkook understood right away. you were with the dog. the thought alone was enough to force his legs to move, following the little brown blur before he lost sight of it in the swirling snow.
a few yards ahead, he heard a new sound. a soft, pained whimper.
his blood went cold. that’s you.
he roared, your name tearing from his throat as he lunged forward, crashing through snow and brush toward the sound.
and there you were. a small, huddled shape against the trunk, dusted with snow as rocky was pressed against your side.
he skidded to a stop, breathing so hard it hurt. relief hit him so hard it made him feel dizzy, you were here, fuck, you were alive. but it was instantly swamped by a new, sharper fear when he saw how still you were.
you looked up, your movements slow. your eyes were wide in the dark. “…jungkook?” you whispered, your voice faint and thin.
he was on his knees in the snow in front of you in an instant, his big hands hovering over you, afraid to touch. where are you hurt? what’s broken? “are you hurt? where are you hurt?” the words came out rough filled with worry, very unfamiliar even to his own ears.
you gave him a weak, wobbly smile. “i’m okay, really. i just… i tripped over a branch i couldn’t see. i was running after rocky and my foot twisted.” you even let out a soft, breathless laugh. “so clumsy of me.”
he didn’t laugh, he didn’t smile. his eyes instantly dropped to your ankle, then snapped back to your face. your cheeks were flushed from the cold, your lips were pale, trembling, but that damn gentle smile was still trying to stay on your face. you’re hurt and cold for fucks sake and you’re still smiling. how are you even real?
“can you stand?” he asked, his voice tight.
you blinked, then braced a hand on the tree to try and push yourself up. you gasped, a sharp little sound of pain, and fell back immediately. “oh– um, not really,” you admitted, sounding embarrassed. you tried to laugh it off. “but i’m okay! really, it’s fine.”
he completely dismissed your words. fuck, you’re not fine. you can’t even walk. “hold the dog,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
confused, you gathered rocky tighter against your chest. “what are you–ah!”
before you could finish, he slid one arm under your knees and the other behind your back. in one easy motion, he stood up, lifting you off the frozen ground as if you were weightless. you let out a soft squeak of surprise, one arm clutching rocky, the other hand flying to fist the thick material of his jacket over his chest for balance.
he pulled you in close, tucking you firmly against his chest, trying to shield you from the cold wind. you were so light in his arms. you were freezing, he could feel you trembling against him. he didn’t say a word. he just turned, adjusted his grip to hold you more securely, and started walking through the deep snow, carrying you out of the dark woods.
jungkook broke through the treeline and the faint lights of the village hall came into view. a small crowd had gathered outside, wrapped in coats and scarves despite the storm. one of the men saw you first.
“they’re back! he found her!”
the first person to reach you was your mother. her face was streaked with tears, her eyes wide with panic.
“my baby! are you okay? are you hurt?” she sobbed, reaching for you but stopping, afraid to touch.
“i’m okay, mama, i’m fine, please don’t cry,” you said quickly, your voice gentle, trying to soothe her.
you then turned your head toward jungkook, your voice dropping to an embarrassed whisper only he could hear. “you can put me down now, please. this is so embarrassing.”
he didn’t even look at you. “you twisted your ankle. you’re not walking on it,” he said flatly, his grip not loosening in the slightest.
your mother heard him. “what? her ankle! oh, no, great god, did you break it?”
“no, no, mama! it’s just a little twist, really, it’s nothing,” you insisted, feeling awful for causing such a fuss.
mrs. jeon appeared at her son’s side, her own face etched with worry. “jungkook, son, get her inside. it’s freezing. we need to look at that ankle and get her warm.”
you’d almost forgotten rocky was still squished between your chest and jungkook’s. the little dog gave a sharp, impatient bark and started wiggling his legs.
you giggled softly despite the situation. “okay, okay, lil’ boy.” you loosened your arms just enough, and rocky leapt down into the snow, immediately rolling onto his back.
jungkook glanced down at your face when you laughed, his expression remained unreadable, before looking back at the path.
“to our house, jungkook,” your mother instructed, wiping her eyes. “i’ll go get the first aid kit. mandy, my dear, you bring anastasia in–!”
jungkook just gave a short nod and started walking, straight down the lane toward your house. he moved with steady pace, ignoring everyone else.
that’s when you became fully aware of the eyes. so many eyes. all the villagers who had been searching or waiting were now staring.
a hot, mortifying flush spread from your neck to your cheeks. you were being carried through the village like a lost child. by jungkook. in front of everyone. jayden and cynthia were probably watching too. you wanted to sink into the snow and disappear. you tried to make yourself smaller in his arms, turning your face in toward his jacket to hide. this was a hundred times worse than the twisted ankle. the pain was nothing compared to the sheer, soul-crushing embarrassment of this moment.
. . .
mandy helped you get settled in your bed, propping your wrapped ankle on a pillow. mrs. anastasia, the village’s retired nurse, had checked it thoroughly.
“it’s just a mild ligament sprain,” she said to your mother. “nothing’s broken. it will be sore and a bit swollen for a few days. just keep it elevated, put ice on it tonight, and use this cream in the morning to keep the bruising down. she should be walking on it carefully in two or three days.”
your mother looked like she might faint from relief. mrs. jeon patted her back. and jungkook… well, he was still there. he’d carried you all the way to your house, set you down in your bed with a surprising gentleness, and hadn’t left. he stood off to the side, leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom, arms crossed. he hadn’t said a word since they brought you inside. he was just… there. a large, silent, and strangely watchful presence.
you felt bad, because you hadn’t even thanked him yet. despite everything, despite how much he annoyed you, he had gone out into a blizzard to find you and carried you home. you weren’t so stubborn that you couldn’t acknowledge that.
once the adults left to talk in the kitchen, mandy fluffed your covers. “girl i was so worried about you!” she said, her usual playful tone gone, replaced by real fear.
“i’m really sorry,” you said softly, your voice full of genuine regret. “i didn’t mean to scare everyone.”
mandy sat on the edge of the bed. “i was looking everywhere for you inside. and then i saw jungkook. he just… bolted out the doors. like someone had lit him on fire. he looked terrified. and i just knew it had something to do with you.”
her words made your neck grow embarrassedly warm. jungkook? terrified? for you? you remembered his face in the woods, the raw panic in his voice when he asked if you were hurt. the thought that he could feel that way because you were in trouble sent a weird, fluttering feeling through your stomach. oh god, stop it. that’s ridiculous.
mandy, seeing your blush, couldn’t resist. a teasing glint returned to her eyes. “and then when he came back carrying you… like wow. it was like something out of a movie. prince charming and the damsel in distress.”
you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “mandy, don’t! it was so embarrassing. and he’s not a prince, not even close to being one. he’s… he’s too much of a…” you fumbled, your tongue tripping over the word. “…a jerk for that.”
mandy laughed. “okay, okay. not a prince. a knight, then. your own personal knight in a leather jacket. your knight in slightly scuffed armor.”
“mandy!” you whined, but you were laughing now too, the sound a little wobbly but real. she was trying to make you feel better, and it was working.
“alright, alright i’ll stop,” she said, grinning. “i’m going to go get you some of that chicken soup your mom was reheating. you need something warm.” she stood up and smoothed your blanket.
“thank you,” you said, your smile soft and grateful.
“anytime, sunshine,” she said, and slipped out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
not even two minutes later, you heard a soft knock on your bedroom door.
that was quick, you thought. mandy must have sprinted. but wait… mandy never knocked? she usually just barged in calling your name. “that was so fast,” you said out loud, a little laugh in your voice. “mandy, did you just–”
the door pushed open. the person who stepped inside was not mandy. it was jungkook. he was holding a steaming bowl of soup carefully in both hands, he nudged the door shut behind him with his foot. a familiar, teasing smirk touched his lips. “didn’t know i looked like your friend, hm? that’s a new one.”
you blinked, completely thrown. “what are you doing here? mandy was getting the soup.”
he walked over and carefully set the bowl on your nightstand. “your mom asked me to bring it. i, uh, stumbled into your friend on the way.” the lie came out too smoothly. in reality, he’d been hovering in the hallway, heard your mom talk about the soup, and he’d volunteered, “i’ll take it.” he’d needed an excuse to come in here, to see for himself that you were really okay. you didn’t need to know that, though.
you huffed, looking from the soup to him and back. it felt incredibly strange having him in your room. this was your own personal sacred space, you’d never had a guy in your bedroom. ever. and definitely not this guy, the one who’d been the source of so much childhood (and now, adulthood) irritation. his large presence made the room (and you) feel so much smaller.
“eat,” he said, nodding at the bowl when you just stared at it. when you didn’t move, the smirk returned. “what, want me to feed you? bet you do, hm?”
“no!” you said quickly, your cheeks flushing warm. you scrambled to grab the bowl.
“careful. it’s hot,” he muttered, his hands coming up to help you steady the tray on your lap. his fingers brushed yours, and you flinched back slightly. he just smirked at your reaction.
you blew on a spoonful and took a small sip. it was good, warm and savory. jungkook had sat down on the edge of your bed, near your feet. the quiet felt heavy, intimate in a way that made your skin prickle. the only sounds were the wind outside and your spoon clinking against the bowl.
after a few bites, you cleared your throat. “why are you still here?”
he shrugged. “watching you. make sure you don’t spill it.”
“i’m not a child,” you said, rolling your eyes.
“could’ve fooled me,” he shot back, his tone playful but with an underlying edge. “running off into a blizzard and all.”
you ate another spoonful, then set the spoon down. you just remembered that you hadn’t thanked him yet. you took a quiet breath. “uh, thank you,” you mumbled, not looking at him.
“huh?”
you glanced up. “i said thank you. for… you know. saving me.”
his playful expression vanished. his face went still, then serious. his eyes darkened, as well. and for a long moment, he just looked at you, his jaw tight. then he said, low and firm, “don’t do it again.”
you frowned. “i’m not planning to. i was just trying to find rocky. how could i leave him out there? he’s so small, he’d be terrified.”
“you could’ve told someone,” jungkook said, his voice dropping. “a man. you could’ve told me.”
your frown deepened, confused and a little hurt. “you? we’re not… we’re not even friends like that. and you seemed busy anyway.” you remembered the sight of him and cynthia after the race, her hand on his arm, their easy proximity. of course he’d been busy.
on the other hand, the memory of cynthia or the stupid race hadn’t even crossed jungkook’s mind. all he could think about was you, alone in the dark, and how worried sick he was. “you’re just being stubborn,” he said, frustration leaking into his tone. “just because i like to annoy you doesn’t mean you can’t ask me for help when you actually need it. you’re not a child.”
it felt like a scolding. you’d spent your whole life being the good girl, the sweet one, the helper. you were praised for your kindness, never reprimanded. which is why being talked to like this, especially by him, made a hot, tight lump form in your throat. your eyes began to sting.
“it all happened so fast,” you said, your voice growing thick. “i didn’t have time to think! i just had to find him quickly. i couldn’t let him out there to freeze. it’s not my fault!”
jungkook, too wrapped up in his own churning frustration, the terror of not finding you, the way your stupid, selfless kindness was going to get you hurt, missed the tears welling in your eyes. “you had plenty of time. you were with that jayden guy right?” the name was like poison on his tongue. “if you couldn’t ask me, why not ask him instead?” he hated the thought, but the idea of that prick in the storm was still better than you being out there.
“i wasn’t with him at that time! how could i ask him?” you protested. then it hit you. jayden’s invitation, the hang out you planned after the festival. you’d completely forgotten about it. “oh…” you murmured, more to yourself, feeling guilty. “oh my goodness, i should probably apologize to him for not being able to meet up…”
even though you were just talking to yourself, jungkook heard. he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. when he looked at you, his eyes were hard. “you should stay away from that guy.”
“huh? why?” you were genuinely bewildered. jayden was a kind man, and he was little matthew’s brother. “why would i do that?”
“you need to start being more careful about who you hang out with,” he said, his voice taking on a harder, more scolding edge. “stop trusting everyone so damn easily.”
the lump in your throat swelled. the frustration, the fear from the storm, the whiplash of his moods. it all boiled over. why was he yelling at you like that? he was so confusing, he was confusing you. your vision blurred slightly.
“stop it!” you said, your voice cracking. a single tear escaped and rolled down your cheek. you swiped at it angrily. “stop scolding me like i’m a child! just… just leave me alone!”
jungkook only groaned, his frustration boiling over. "i wouldn't be saying any of this if you weren't acting like one!" he stopped short when he finally saw the tears welling in your eyes. fuck. he’d made you fucking cry. a sharp pang of guilt cut through his anger.
“stop crying,” he said, his voice dropping, trying for calm but coming out strained.
you huffed, wiping angrily at your cheeks. “just leave. i don't want to see you.” you sniffed, completely hurt and confused. how could he scold you like that and then pretend to care?
“no,” he said, firm. “you need to finish your food. stop being stubborn.” he hated seeing you cry. it made his chest feel tight. but you needed to hear this, not everyone in this village was an angel like you. not even close.
“i don't want to,” you said, looking away and crossing your arms. you were pouting, and a part of you knew you were only proving his point, but you were too upset to care. for a moment, just a tiny one, you’d thought maybe he wasn’t so bad. but you were completely wrong.
jungkook cursed under his breath. he leaned over and carefully moved the soup tray from your lap back to the nightstand. as he did, his eyes caught on a painting leaning against the wall. it was a landscape of the view from your window, but it wasn’t just a copy. the way you'd captured the light on the winter trees was... stunning.
you side-eyed him, curious about the sudden silence.
"did you paint this?" he asked, his voice different. softer.
you sniffled, considering ignoring him. but that would be childish, so you glanced at the painting. “yeah,” you hummed, your voice small.
jungkook’s eyes widened slightly. he knew you liked to draw as a kid, but this... damn, this was something else. “this is insanely good,” he said, almost to himself. he looked around, really looking for the first time. there were more canvases, some on the floor, a few hanging. a detailed portrait of your mother, a vibrant study of wildflowers. they were all beautiful as hell. seriously beautiful. fuck, these should be in a fucking gallery.
you blushed at the praise, muttering a quiet, “thank you.”
jungkook was so lost in thought. “tae would lose his mind over these,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.
you frowned. “tae?”
jungkook turned back to you, his expression intense. “listen. have you ever thought about doing this for real? like, as a career?” he gestured at your paintings.
you blinked, genuinely taken aback. you looked at your work. “..no?” you said, but it came out more like a question. it was a hesitant and unsure sound.
jungkook looked at the paintings again. they were miles better than the pretentious stuff his friend taehyung was always trying to get him to appreciate at his gallery. “you could make a fortune,” he said, the idea making more sense as he spoke. “my friend taehyung owns a gallery. he sometimes helps new artists get shows– i could talk to him. he’d want these.”
you stared at him. it wasn’t the offer itself that stunned you; it was the serious, certain way jungkook said it. make a fortune? out of these? you looked at your paintings. you knew for a fact that they weren’t bad. but to put them on display for others to see? to sell them? they were just... your quiet little hobby. something you did to relax. they weren’t even that good.
you shook your head. “they’re not that good. i wouldn’t want to waste your friend’s time. they’re just... doodles.”
jungkook looked at you like you’d just told him someone put spray on his bike. his brows shot up. “i don't know shit about art,” he said flatly. “but i know when something’s good. and this,” he pointed at the landscape, his finger almost touching the canvas, “this is sick. this is a real artist’s work.”
you were speechless. no one had ever praised your work like that, especially not him. the guy who usually only had teasing or scowls for you. “i... i don't know,” you whispered. the idea was just...too big, too scary. painting was a dream you’d tucked away a long time ago, something unrealistic and far away from your quiet life. you had no degree, no real experience. and even if you said yes... it would mean going to the city, dealing with strangers, with jungkook’s friend... and why was he even offering this? it didn’t make any sense. why were you even considering it the first place?
the conflict was clear on your face. jungkook moved closer, sitting on the edge of the bed again. “i’m being serious, little bear. you just have to say yes and i’ll handle the rest."
your heart was pounding. why was he even doing this? jungkook, of all people? he was confusing you! wasn’t he just yelling at you? was this some unfunny prank? like when he’d ruin your drawings as a kid, only to laugh at your tears? “why are you doing this?” you asked, your voice trembling. “we’re not even friends. are you... are you trying to play a trick on me?”
it felt like a slap. the doubt in your voice, the complete lack of trust, it hit him harder than any punch. you trusted everyone but him. the thought alone left a bitter taste in his throat. he’d seen how easily you smiled at people who talked behind your back, and yet you couldn’t believe a single sincere thing from him. it hurt. it hurt in a deep, angry way that shocked him. but why does it matter this much to him? and then it clicked, hard and undeniable. fuck. because he like you, didn’t he? he really, really like you.
he groaned, running a hand through his hair. “i’m not joking and i’m definitely not playing a prank. i’m being dead serious right now."
but you were still doubtful. “but why would you even want to help me? why would you do that?”
“why wouldn’t i?!" he snapped, frustration flaring again.
“because it’s you!” you fired back, your own frustration rising. “you’re jungkook! the jungkook i know always makes fun of me! this doesn’t make any sense! why would you ever–”
“because i like you, okay?!” the words burst out of him, loud and raw in the quiet room.
you stopped dead, staring at him.
he barreled on. “i’m doing this because i fucking like you! can’t you get that?” saying it out loud was strange, terrifying, and yet it felt more real than anything else he’d ever said all night. yeah. he does. he really fucking does.
“...what?” your voice was a whisper. jungkook... liked you? you were so startled you felt dizzy. it had to be a joke. “that’s not funny,” you said, your voice eerily calm, belying the storm inside of you.
jungkook froze. “funny? what do you mean?” he’d braced for rejection, for a gentle let-down. not this.
“it’s not funny to lie about your feelings just for a joke!” you said, your calm cracking, voice rising. “it’s not funny at all! i know you’re just messing with me!”
his expression shifted from confusion to something like desperation. “i’m not being funny! i’m not joking, and i’m sure as hell not playing a sick prank on you! i like you! i liked you when we were kids, and i like you even more now! as a woman!” the confession hung between you, heavy and undeniable.
your heart was hammering so hard you thought it might break your ribs. this couldn’t be real. he was being cruel. “it’s stupid to think i’d believe you!” you cried, your emotions a tangled, hurt mess. “you’ve liked annoying me since we were kids! you liked playing pranks on me! and now you suddenly like me? don’t lie about this, jungkook! or... or is this what you tell all the girls? is this what you told cynthia?” you didn’t even know why you said her name. it just fell out, fueled by a confusing pang of hurt you refused to name.
“cynthia?” jungkook looked genuinely baffled, then angry. “this has nothing to do with her, or anyone else in this goddamn village! yeah, i annoyed you! to get your attention! i would never hurt you on purpose, and you know that so well! look at me, y/n! i’m being for real!”
your breath came in shaky gasps. “no,” you muttered.
“what?”
“no,” you said again, stronger, shaking your head. “no, no, no. you’re lying. i can’t... i can’t trust you!” you didn’t even know why you were so agitated, so hurt. for a split second, hearing his confession had made something in you leap with a wild, almost unreal hope. but then reality crashed back. this was jungkook. and the thought that he might be lying, that this might be his worst trick yet, felt like a physical pain. did you... like him? the question alone terrified you, so you buried it under anger and disbelief.
jungkook just stood there, watching the distress on your face. so you really didn’t trust me at all. he’d expected a kind rejection. he’d even, in his most selfish moments, hoped for a yes. but this? this complete disbelief, this assumption that his feelings were a weapon to hurt you... it was worse. it carved something out of him.
no. no he wouldn’t let it end like this. not like this. if you didn’t trust him now, he’d make you. he’d prove it. he’d show you how fucking sincere he was. he’d do anything, anything, to be the one person you could finally rely on.
he held your gaze for one long, heavy moment, his own eyes full of a frustrated, determined intensity. then, without another word, he turned and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. leaving you alone with the echo of his confession and a heart more confused than ever.
. . .
it had been two days since the “incident.” and by incident, you mostly meant the storm, and you getting lost in it, and jungkook rescuing you. but if you were being brutally honest with yourself in the quiet of your own thoughts, the real incident was jungkook confessing that he liked you. which you were 99% sure was just a terrible, mean-spirited joke.
your ankle was doing way better now. you could walk on it, though it hurt if you put too much weight on it or tried to stand on your tiptoes. over the last two days, your little house had felt like a receiving line. so many people from the village had come by to check on you, bringing little gifts; jars of honey, knitted socks, pots of hearty stew. they’d pat your hand and say, “we were so worried, dear! get well soon!” it warmed your heart so much. people were so kind.
jayden had visited too. you’d apologized again for missing your plans. he’d smiled gently and said, “it’s fine. we’ll catch up when you’re better.” even the girls; jessica, sophia, and cynthia as well, had stopped by with a box of your favorite lemon tarts. “feel better,” cynthia had said with a tight smile. you’d thought it was incredibly sweet of them all.
mrs. jeon had practically moved in, helping your mother with cooking and cleaning since you were supposed to stay off your feet. you felt so grateful and a little guilty, desperate to get better so you could pay back all their kindness.
you’d thought, maybe hoped, you wouldn’t see much of jungkook after that night. but you were so wrong.
he’d been there almost constantly. helping your mom carry firewood, fixing a wobbly step on the porch, sitting in your living room talking with the mothers. he acted like nothing had happened. he still teased you, called you that stupid nickname, mocked you for being a slow eater. but what truly threw you off guard was the new habit he’d picked up, that he’d weave into the most ordinary moments.
he’d see you trying to sneak out of bed. “get back in there, little bear. i like you too much to let you hurt yourself.”
he’d walk past you in the hall. “out of my way, short stuff– just kidding, i like you.”
it was constant. non stop. and it did things to you. it made you blush furiously, made your heart do a stupid little back flip. sometimes, a tiny, traitorous smile would touch your lips before you could stop it. but then you’d shake your head hard. no. he was just committed to the bit. jungkook was a competitive guy; if a prank wasn’t working, he’d double down. that’s all this was.
a quiet, hidden part of you that you refused to examine, really wanted to believe him. you didn’t know why, and you didn’t want to know why. the other part of you was scared, confused, and absolutely convinced it was a childish trick.
you’d never really dated anyone properly. you’d sure had innocent crushes. you’d gone out with a boy from the next village over when you were eighteen, but it fizzled out after two months when his family moved. you knew everyone here, had known them forever. new faces were rare, like jayden’s family when they moved in a few years ago, but you’d never felt that way about jayden. so jungkook’s casual “i like you”s were a first. the first time a man had ever said those words to you in that way. and the fact that the man was jungkook made the whole thing feel absurd, unreal. and what made even less sense was how much it affected you.
currently, you were at the market with mandy, two days before christmas, hunting for last-minute decorations.
“these glass baubles are so pretty,” mandy said, holding up a box of delicate, silver-streaked ornaments.
“they are,” you agreed, smiling. you picked up two packages. “we should get some for the big tree in the square, too.”
mandy paid for them and took the bag. you were already carrying two other bags full of ribbons and candles.
as you moved toward the next stall, mandy gently took the bags from your hands. “you shouldn’t be carrying things, princess.”
you whined playfully. “mandy, it’s been two days! it’s fine! give them back, i can hold them!”
she held the bags out of your reach. “nuh-uh. mrs. anastasia’s orders. well, my orders. i’m not letting you.”
you laughed. “you’re treating me like i’m a pregnant lady, not someone with a mildly sore ankle.”
“same thing! you need to be pampered,” she insisted, grinning.
just then, the low growl of a motorcycle engine cut through the market chatter. you both turned.
jungkook pulled up to the curb, killing the engine. “ladies,” he said, his voice a familiar rumble. “need any help?”
mandy’s eyes lit up with mischief. “actually, yes! it would be great if you could take these bags.” she shoved your shopping bags into his hands before you could protest. then she added, her voice bright, “you know what would be even greater? if you gave our patient here a ride home, yeah?”
your eyes went wide almost instantly. “what?! mandy, no! i definitely do not need a ride! and we still have more stuff to get!”
mandy completely ignored you. she put her hands on your shoulders and pushed you toward jungkook and his bike. “nope, we’re done. anastasia’s orders, remember? rest well, sweetheart!” she leaned close to jungkook, whispering something you couldn’t hear, then stepped back. she waved at you, her smile triumphant, and mouthed, a ‘thank me later!’
you just stood there, blinking, trying to process how your best friend set you up like that in broad daylight.
you heard jungkook chuckle. “i like your friend,” he said, securing the bags to his bike.
you finally looked at him, flustered.
he met your gaze, that infuriating, knowing smirk on his lips. he leaned in a little. “of course, i like you more.” his voice was low, just for you.
a furious, immediate heat rushed from your chest to your face. what was wrong with you?! you wanted to be angry, to call him out on his game. but all you could do was stand there, a blush staining your cheeks, more confused than ever.
. . .
you weren’t entirely sure how he managed it, but somehow he got you seated behind him on his rumbling motorcycle. you clung to the worn leather of his jacket, your arms wrapped around his waist as he navigated the familiar lanes back to your house. your bags of decorations were wedged securely between his body and the bike’s gas tank, held in place by one of his arms.
the ride was short, but it felt longer with the feel of him against you and the wind in your hair. he pulled into your driveway and turned off the engine, the sudden quiet feeling loud.
before you could even swing your leg over, he was off the bike and turning to help you. his hands were at your waist, steadying you as you slid down, his touch careful, making sure you landed on your good foot.
“i’m fine, really. you don’t have to do that,” you mumbled, flustered by the unnecessary assistance.
as soon as you were stable, you reached for your shopping bags, but jungkook was faster. in one smooth motion, he scooped them up, holding them out of your reach.
“hey!” you whined, making a grab for them. “give them back. i can carry them!”
he held the bags higher, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked down at you. “and tire out the girl i like? i don’t think so.”
there it was again. the words landed with the same impact they always did, turning your insides to warm jelly and sending a flush straight to your cheeks. you hated that it still worked. it should have lost its power by now, but if anything, it was only getting worse.
you huffed, biting back the whine on your tongue because you knew anything you said would just encourage him even more. instead, you did the only thing you could think of; you stomped your uninjured foot childishly, turned on your heel, and marched as best you could toward your front door, leaving him to follow.
you could practically feel the wide smirk on his face behind you, delighted by your flustered reaction, and it only made you walk faster, your heart doing a ridiculous, giddy dance against your ribs that you refused to acknowledge.
once you got inside, the quiet house immediately told you your mom wasn’t home. you remembered her saying she’d be at mrs. jeon’s with the other village women for a big knitting circle. maybe this was a good chance to bake something. you could bring them some fresh biscuits as a thank you for all their help over the last two days. the idea itself made you smile.
you headed for the kitchen. out of the corner of your eye, you saw jungkook step inside too. he set the shopping bags down neatly by the little potted fern in the hall.
“your mom’s at mine,” he said, leaning against the kitchen doorframe, arms crossed. “in case you were wondering.”
you glanced at him as you dried your hands on a towel. “i know. she told me.”
he made a face. “couldn’t stand another minute over there. all the aunties trying to shove their daughters at me, asking when i’m going to ‘court’ someone.” he said the word ‘court’ like it was a disease. his eyes followed your hands as you started adding flour into a mixing bowl.
“they probably don’t realize what an annoying son-in-law you’d be,” you said lightly, focusing on the recipe.
he snorted. “yeah. and they definitely don’t know i’ve already got my eyes on one little short stuff with a permanent angry pout.”
just as he said it, you were cracking an egg. the words made your hand jump, and the eggshell crumbled into the bowl along with the yolk.
“oh!” you yelped, staring at the mess.
jungkook pushed off the doorframe and came over. “you’re a clumsy one too, i forgot to add,” he said, a hint of laughter in his voice.
“you’re distracting me,” you said, pursing your lips as you tried to fish out the shell pieces with a spoon.
he took the spoon from your hand gently. “here.” he carefully picked out the larger bits. “i’m flattered, by the way. that i’m so… radiant i can ruin your baking.”
his tone was playful, flirty, and you didn’t know how to respond, so you just turned to the sink to wash your hands, trying to hide how fast your heart was beating. your cheeks felt hot. how could he say things like that so easily? and why did it work every single time? by blushing like this, you were giving him exactly what he wanted, and you hated it.
just as you turned back to the counter, jungkook’s phone rang. he cursed under his breath and fished it out of his jacket pocket. he looked at the screen, a slight scowl forming, before answering.
you were secretly relieved his focus was off you. you cracked a new egg into the bowl and started mixing, trying to ignore him.
“wassup, mad,” jungkook said into the phone. his voice was completely different. it was deeper, flatter, with none of the playful lightness he used with you. he didn’t say much. just low hums of acknowledgment, the occasional “yeah,” or a short, gruff reply that wasn’t very polite. you didn’t mean to eavesdrop, it was rude, but he was standing right there, not making any effort to lower his voice, and you couldn’t exactly block it out.
you concluded the caller, “mad,” was a woman. you could hear the faint, high tone of a feminine voice through the phone. you’d never heard a girl’s name like “mad” before. maybe it was short for madison? maddie? or maybe madeline? you didn’t know, and you told yourself you didn’t want to know.
but it bothered you. jungkook had a pet name for this girl. they also sounded so close and comfortable. he was talking about things you had no clue about, something about a gym, equipments, double keys. did they share a house? was she more than a friend? was she his… girlfriend back in the city? but then why would he keep saying he liked you? was the whole thing just a joke after all? the thought shouldn’t have hurt, but it did, a sharp little pinch under your ribs. it’s none of your business, you scolded yourself. it’s none of your business who she is or what she is to him.
“yeah. bye,” jungkook said abruptly, ending the call.
you quickly slid the tray of biscuits into the preheated oven and closed the door. when you glanced over, jungkook was still on his phone, his thumbs moving quickly over the screen, probably typing out a message to someone. the focused, almost serious look on his face was totally opposite to the teasing man who’d been flirting with you moments before, and it left you feeling more confused than ever.
without looking up, jungkook asked a sudden, random question. “do you have an instagram?”
you stopped wiping the counter, blinking at him. was he asking for your... instagram? why would he want that? your mind went blank for a second.
he must have noticed your silence, because he finally lifted his head from his phone to look at you. a small, knowing smirk played on his lips. “i followed a couple of the girls from here. scrolled through their followers. didn’t see your username pop up. unless you’re undercover or something.” his tone was light, teasing.
you blinked again. well, you actually didn’t have instagram. in fact, you didn’t have any social media, really. you’d just never been interested, it wasn’t really your thing. sometimes though, your mom would show you a couple of silly videos, but that would be it. but wait– he already has other girls’ instagrams? when did he even get those? did he get cynthia’s as well ? mandy would have told you if he’d followed her, but she hardly ever used social media anyway. but why does that even matter to you?!
“i… i don’t have one,” you said finally.
jungkook raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “wait. don’t tell me you don’t even have a phone?”
you looked at him, wide-eyed. “what? of course i have a phone! i just… i don’t use it that much. but i do have one!”
your flustered, defensive reply only amused him more. he chuckled. “chill, kitty. i was just kidding.” he gave you a quick wink that made your stomach do a stupid flip.
“why were you even looking for my profile?” you asked, trying to sound casual and totally failing.
he shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “why wouldn’t i?” that simple answer left you momentarily speechless. he continued, his voice dropping into a playful tone. “thought it’d be a good way to annoy you when i’m not around. send you stupid memes or something.”
you huffed, and without really thinking, you fired back, “you could just do that through regular text messages with my number. you don’t need my instagram.”
as soon as the words left your mouth, you knew it was a mistake and you wished to take back every word.
jungkook’s smirk widened into a full, wide grin. his eyes sparkled with mischief. “oh damn. is that your way of asking for my number? that’s a nice one, i’m impressed.”
you froze, your face heating up. “what? no! i wasn’t asking for your number! i was just… stating a fact!”
“yeah, yeah, whatever you say, sweetie,” he said, waving a dismissive hand, his grin never fading. “so, you wanna give me your number now? i kinda like your idea better.”
you just stared at him, baffled. why was he talking to you like this? and why did your heart feel like it was tap-dancing? “no,” you said, trying to sound firm. “i don’t want you bothering me with dumb messages. and i told you, i don’t use my phone much anyway!”
he took a step closer, leaning in slightly. “you never know. there might be a time you need me, for a ride or maybe a favor. it’s more practical, don’t you think?” and before you could protest further, he added, his voice dropping to a low, confident murmur, “you can always block me if i get too much, yeah? do we have a deal?” he held your gaze, his dark eyes steady and challenging.
you thought about it. he already had other people’s socials. if you made a big deal out of this, he’d just tease you more, call you childish. and it was just a phone number, it didn’t mean anything.
you huffed, crossing your arms. “fine.”
his smirk widened into a victorious smile. he opened his mouth to say something else, but then his eyes flickered over your shoulder. he tilted his head. “hey, little bear. your biscuits are about to burn.”
“oh!” you jumped, spinning around and rushing to the oven to pull out the perfectly golden, not-burnt biscuits. your heart was racing, and you weren’t sure if it was from the almost-burnt pastries or the man still leaning against your kitchen counter. definitely the latter.
. . .
jungkook was lying on his old childhood bed. it was the same creaky, narrow one from when he was a teenager, and now it felt way too small for his broader shoulders and even taller legs. but it was still better than the rock-hard sofa in the corner of the room.
his phone buzzed on his chest. another text from jimin. this one though had a picture attached.
jimin:
look at this catch i reeled in tn 🔥
jungkook opened the image. it was a selfie of jimin with a woman at a bar. she was pretty, with short dark hair and a bright smile. but why did she look... so familiar. oh, right. he squinted at the screen.
he typed back casually with one thumb.
jungkook:
yeah natty
hooked up w her in august ig. she gives good head
he hit sent.
jimin’s reply came in a furious rapid-fire stream just like he’d expected.
jimin:
bro.. RU FCKING W ME NOW
how TF are u inside every chick’s pants before ME
I THOUGHT I FINALLY FOUND ONE U HAVEN’T FUCKED
this is bullshit
jungkook scoffed at the screen. yeah, he remembered her more now. natty. she had a nice body with a good pair of tits, that was actually the first thing he’d noticed. she’d started coming to his gym regularly, always finding a reason to be near him, asking for “help” with her form. it didn’t take long. he remembered her on her knees for him, his cock stuffed in her mouth, in his gym’s bathroom one night after closing. they went back to his place after that and fucked. she was so eager, made a lot of noise. she tried to make it a regular thing after that, texting him, showing up to the gym with her hair done and a sport bra too small for her. but he’d lost interest, and he wasn’t surprised she’d moved on to his best friend instead.
he typed out another reply to jimin.
jungkook:
nah u can hv ur way w her tn, she mad good in bed
other than that no, lwk think she got to u js to get to me
been begging for my cock for a while
he sent the message and dropped his phone on his chest, staring at the ceiling. he turned on his side, cursing at how cramped the bed felt.
he missed the city. it felt like ages since he’d last been to a club, felt the bass in his bones. strangely he didn’t miss the random hookups as much as he thought he would. the idea of getting his dick wet in some stranger woman felt... hollow now. he knew why. it was because of you. these strange feelings for you, they’d just gotten bigger and bigger since he’d stepped foot here. he couldn’t see himself going back to his old life filled with meaningless fucks, after the holidays. the thought of it felt wrong. fuck. he’d never ever felt anything this real, this stubborn before. he knew, with a certainty that scared him to death, that he couldn’t just let you go.
ever since he’d blurred it out that he liked you. he’d been trying to prove he meant it, because you clearly didn’t believe him. fuck, he told you constantly. he hung around you more often now. but you only seemed to pull away more. that was new, too. because he’d never, ever, had a woman dismiss him when he showed interest. but then, he’d never shown this kind of interest before. it was always just sexual attraction.
don’t get him wrong, he was, in fact, sexually attracted to you, too. even though you were nothing like the women he usually hooked up with. they wore tight clothes, showed a lot of skin, which was okay too. but you just, didn’t. he’d barely seen past your knees. and yet, you were the one he’d woken up from a wet dream about, embarrassingly hard, with a sticky patch in his boxers. you were the one he’d jerked off to in the middle of the night before taking a cold shower at 3 in the morning.
so yeah, he wasn’t backing down. not until you trusted that his feelings were real. and he wanted you. for himself. fuck, just thinking about you now was getting him worked up. what the hell was wrong with him? no woman had ever had this effect on him. you were just, too pretty. too sweet. too damn innocent for this fucked up world. sometimes he’d get those dark, possessive thoughts about ruining that innocence in his damn wrecked ways. but then a stronger, more suprising feeling would wash over him. no. he wanted to protect you, to keep you safe, to have you all for himself. only his.
holy fuck. what was he even thinking? you made him crazy. you made him loose his shit without even being in the same room.
he punched his pillow and tried to force himself to sleep. if he kept thinking about you, he’d get hate again, and he’d be up for another hour taking care of it. his mom needed him up early to help set up the big christmas tree in the village square.
it took a long time, but he finally drifted into a fitful sleep, his last conscious thoughts were filled with the memory of your smile, the soft sound of your voice, and that adorable, stubborn pout you always got when he teased you. fuck, you drove him absolutely fucking nuts.
. . .
you were sitting on the soft carpet in mandy’s room, your back against the edge of her bed. the air inside was warm and smelled like vanilla candles and wool. few other girls from the village were here as well since it was the day before christmas eve, and you were all gathered for your yearly tradition. everyone would work on little projects like knitting, sewing, making jewelry.
you were carefully stitching tiny, iridescent pearls onto the hem of nancy’s new dress. mandy sat cross-legged beside you, trying out the friendship bracelets she’d made for everyone, holding one up to the light to check the colors.
jessica, perched on the vanity stool, was in the middle of her ranting. “...and then roberto actually asked me out at the festival. and he leaned in and pecked me on the lips, without even asking! can you believe it?” she shook her head, tying a red ribbon around a half-finished cardigan.
cynthia, lounging in the plush armchair and examining her manicure, let out a bored snort. “that’s it? a peck? please. guys at the clubs in the city do way more than that without a second thought.”
jessica wrinkled her nose. “yeah, well, his breath smelled like the fish stall. i almost threw up.”
sophia, who was pinning silver pendants onto a velvet dress, grimaced. “eww, no!”
“exactly!” jessica said, waving a ribbon for emphasis. “i told him straight up ‘no.’ besides, cassandra told me he never washes his hands after using the bathroom. like, ever. can you imagine?”
mandy, looping a bracelet around her wrist, scoffed. “and she dated him for two whole months. i could never.”
you listened quietly, focusing on placing another pearl perfectly in the center of the floral design. you’d always thought roberto was a nice guy. you’d seen him with jayden a few times, and he was always polite. he’d also been so gentle and attentive with cassandra when they were together. maybe he had some bad habits, but what mattered most was that he had a good heart. he could just learn to be cleaner, right?
sophia’s attention shifted from her dress to you. “hey, i heard jayden asked you out. you know, right before you got lost in the storm– sorry about that, by the way.” she gave you a sympathetic wince, gesturing vaguely toward your ankle.
cynthia let out another short, mocking laugh.
you blinked, confused at what she just said. a date? jayden hadn’t asked you on a date. “oh, no. he just asked if i wanted to hang out. to catch up, you know? it’s been a while since we grabbed a snack together. it was just a friendly thing.” you giggled softly, the idea of it being romantic feeling silly.
jessica rolled her eyes. “girl, it’s obvious to a blind person that jayden is totally into you. unless you’re just that oblivious.”
cynthia smirked, not looking up from her nails. “she is.”
mandy immediately bristled. she shot a glare at jessica and cynthia. “well, she’s a pretty girl. half the guys in this village probably adore her. it’s hard to keep track, don’t you think?” her tone was defensive, protective.
nancy, who was having her hair braided by layla, suddenly bounced in her seat, making layla yelp as she tugged on a strand. “ooh! speaking of guys! i saw how jungkook carried you through the storm!” nancy clutched her hands to her chest dramatically. “it was like something from a movie!”
layla, carefully resuming her braiding, nodded enthusiastically. “he looked... so charming, like a total hero. i almost forgot you were hurt– sorry! i’m so glad you’re all okay now!”
the mention of jungkook’s name sent an immediate, unwelcome flush of heat up your neck. oh god, no. it was so embarrassing that everyone had seen him carry you like that, it must have looked so silly. you looked down at the dress in your lap, embarrassed all over again.
cynthia’s voice cut through the romantic image. “it was so unnecessary. you could have walked just fine. you made him carry you for no reason.”
sophia nodded in agreement, though she looked a bit apologetic. “yeah, maybe a tiny bit over the top? you kind of overreacted, it was just a little twist. you really worried your mom, you know?”
you wanted to correct them so badly. you hadn’t asked him to! you actually told him to put me down multiple times but he just wouldn’t listen! and you did feel so awful for worrying your mother and the others that much. the guilt twisted in your stomach.
mandy wasn’t having it. her voice was sharp. “she was not overreacting, she clearly couldn’t put weight on it. jungkook did the right thing. and mrs. anastasia said she shouldn’t walk on it, remember? to keep it from getting worse.” she gave you a supportive smile.
nancy sighed dreamily, ignoring the tension. “he’s just so nice to help you like that. you two must be really close, right? you’re so lucky.” she had literal hearts in her eyes.
you blushed, opening your mouth to deny it, but jessica spoke first. “jungkook’s like that with everyone,” she said, a hint of pride in her voice. “at the festival, he came over and helped me with the lights without me even asking. he just took the strand right out of my hands and got the job done for me.”
sophia jumped in. “yeah it’s true! i was right there!”
cynthia smoothed her skirt, a smug smirk on her face. “he probably just saw you struggling.” she paused, letting the words hang. “you know, he actually came up to me and asked me to be his partner for the snowshoe race.” it was a blatant lie, she had been the one to approach him, but no one else knew that.
layla gasped, accidentally tugging on nancy’s braid again. “ow!”
“sorry! but oh my god!” layla squealed, forgetting the hair. “i saw you two win! you looked amazing together! he is totally into you. you’d be such a hot couple!”
cynthia’s smirk widened, and her eyes flicked over to you, watching for your reaction.
something inside your chest squeezed, tight and painful. a bitter taste rose in the back of your throat. so he was the one who asked her? of course he did. the image of them together; cynthia, beautiful, confident, city-savvy, wrapped in jungkook’s arms after winning the race, clicked into place in your mind. layla was right. they would look so good together. they matched so well after all, they made total sense in a way you and jungkook never could. she understood his world. the thought made your eyes sting.
but… he told you he liked you. a tiny, desperate voice reminded you. but you’d already decided that was just another one of his tricks, right? so why did it hurt so much to hear about cynthia? you should be happy for her if she liked him and he liked her back as well. but you couldn’t be. you just felt a hollow, aching sadness.
cynthia wasn’t done. she picked up her phone, scrolling with a casual air. “yeah, we’ve been texting too. he followed me on instagram. liked my last selfie, too.” she showed the screen briefly, where a heart from jungkook’s account was clearly visible under a glamorous photo of her.
the other girls erupted in more squeals and giggles, crowding around to see.
you looked down at the half-pearled dress in your lap, the colors blurring. you focused on threading your needle with a shaky hand, trying to shove the confusing, hurtful feelings down, down, down where they couldn’t show on your face. you tried to make your smile match the cheerful mood in the room. it felt like the hardest thing you’d ever done.
eventually, the conversation drifted to other topics as the night wore on, filled with more laughter and chatter.
but you were quieter than usual. your responses were slower, your smiles didn’t quite reach your eyes, and you found yourself staring at the same half-attached pearl for minutes at a time, your thoughts a thousand miles away, or more accurately, stuck on a certain leather jacket and a smirk that now felt like it was meant for someone else.
mandy noticed your strange behavior right away. she watched you from the corner of her eye, saw the distant look on your face, the way your shoulders had slumped just a little. she didn’t say anything in front of the others, but she made a mental note to corner you about it later, when it was just the two of you. something was definitely up with you, and she was going to get to the bottom of it.
. . .
later that night, the other girls, yawning and clutching their pillows, shuffled off to mandy’s guest room. it was more spacious, and since they planned to wake up early in the morning to finish their projects, it was easier to just spend the night.
you were now alone with mandy in her bedroom. you were pulling back the covers on her queen sized bed, the same bed you’d shared during countless sleepovers since you were teenagers.
mandy stood at her dresser, brushing out her hair. “so,” she said without turning around, her voice cutting through the comfortable silence. “are you going to tell me now?”
you looked over at her, confused. you finished fluffing a pillow. “tell you what?”
she finished with her hair, pulling it over one shoulder as she turned to face you. she raised a knowing eyebrow. “what’s been bugging you all night. don’t even try to deny it.”
you frowned slightly. “nothing’s bugging me.”
“you’re a terrible liar, and i’ve known you since we were in pigtails. something’s up, so spill. what’s up?” she came and sat on the edge of the bed, facing you, her expression serious but kind.
mandy could always read you like an open book. she knew your tells; the way you’d bite your lip when nervous, the slight dip in your smile when you were faking it, she just noticed it all. you nibbled on your lower lip nervously. “it’s… it’s nothing. really. it’s just silly.”
“bullshit,” mandy said, but there was no anger in it, just firm concern. she scooted closer. “if it’s bothering you, it’s not silly to me. so tell me. did someone do something? say anything bad to you?”
you quickly shook your head. “no, no, nothing like that.” you knew you couldn’t keep anything from her, not when she was looking at you like this. you took a deep, shaky breath, looking down at your hands. “it’s… about jungkook.”
mandy’s expression shifted. “of course it is,” she sighed, though there was no real surprise in her voice. “what did he do now?” she looked ready to march out and find him, which made you a little bit anxious.
“no, he didn’t– it’s not like that,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks grow warm. this was the first time you were saying it out loud. “after… after the storm incident, when we were alone… he… he told me he liked me.” you confessed, the words feeling strange and heavy in the air. your cheeks burned even more with the admission.
mandy’s eyes went wide. “what?” then a slow, huge grin spread across her face. “oh my god– i told you! i told you he was into you!” she grabbed your shoulders, giving you a little shake.
you pouted, the familiar doubt creeping back in. “but i think he was probably just joking…”
“did he say he was joking?” mandy asked, her gaze sharp.
you shook your head, hesitating. “no… he actually told me he wasn’t joking when i said that. he’s said it a few times since... but... i just know he can’t be serious. because of what… what cynthia said earlier.” the words tumbled out, laced with a pain you couldn’t hide.
mandy’s face softened. she let go of your shoulders. “you can’t possibly listen to a word cynthia says. if jungkook had told her he wanted her, she’d be shouting it from the rooftops and bragging to everyone. has she done that?”
you shook your head slightly.
“exactly. jungkook told you and he acts totally different around you anyway, you’ve seen it. he teases you, but it’s… different. he doesn’t look at cynthia, or anyone else, the way he looks at you.”
“but he still asked her to be his partner,” you said quietly, the memory stinging. “and he liked her post. and they text.” you hated how you sounded; petty, insecure, nothing like your usual self. mandy noticed the change too, and a soft, knowing smile touched her lips. you were jealous, she thought.
“well, i checked his instagram,” mandy said gently. “he likes a lot of girls’ posts. i think it’s just a mindless habit for him, like scrolling. it probably means nothing– and honestly? i have a feeling cynthia was lying about him asking her. he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else during that whole race.”
you frowned, genuinely puzzled. “why would she lie?”
mandy mentally face-palmed at your naivete but just shook her head. “it doesn’t matter why. what really matters is you.” she leaned closer, her voice dropping. “so. do you like him?”
the question hit you like a bucket of cold water. your breath caught and you blinked at her, your mind going totally blank. do you like him? the question echoed in the sudden silence of your mind. “i… i don’t know,” you whispered, but the fact that you didn’t immediately deny it made your heart hammer against your ribs. why didn’t you just say no?
mandy gave you a look that said she saw right through you. you stared back, and something inside you seemed to crack open. do you like jungkook? did you really like him? the possibility, once unthinkable, now felt terrifyingly real. but... how? when?
mandy patted the space beside her and slid under the covers. “come on. get in.” you snuggled in next to her, pouting. “you need to figure out if you like him or not,” she said, her voice a matter of fact. “because if you don't, then none of this should bother you. who he likes, what he does with cynthia... it shouldn’t matter to you. right?”
you pouted, pulling the blanket up to your chin. “but he said he liked me…” you mumbled, the confession feeling both precious and painful.
“and what did you say back?” mandy asked.
“i… i told him he was lying.”
mandy turned on her side to face you, a slow grin spreading across her face. “so you never actually told him if you liked him back or not. right?” you shook your head. “okay. so the whole mess is on both of you. him for being a flirty idiot with no boundaries, and you, for not even admitting your own feelings to yourself, while getting jealous over him.”
jealous? the word echoed in your head. that’s what this squeezing, aching, bitter feeling was? you’d never felt anything like it before. and the fact that it was over jungkook made everything more confusing. but as mandy laid it out so simply, the fog in your mind began to clear little by little. the pain when cynthia talked about him, the ache at the thought of them together, the way your heart raced when he got near you… it all pointed to one overwhelming, undeniable truth.
it was as if mandy could see the realization dawning in your eyes. she smiled softly. “you like him.”
you looked up at her, your face flushed with heat and confusion, and after a long moment, you gave a tiny, hesitant nod.
mandy let out a quiet squeal and pulled you into a tight hug. “you finally admitted it!”
you whined into her shoulder. “but– but mandy i don’t know what to do!”
she pulled back, holding you at arm’s length, her expression turning practical. “okay. first, you need to talk to him. tell him how you feel. or at least figure out what you want to say before that.” seeing your panic, she squeezed your hands. “but for right now, you need to stop thinking and go to sleep. your poor brain is probably fried. everything will look clearer in the morning, okay? just relax.”
you nodded, feeling a strange mix of terror and relief. but as you lay in the dark, your mind wouldn’t stop racing. the thought was so strange, so unexpected, you like jeon jungkook. it should have felt wrong, given your history. but somehow, in the quiet truth of the night, it also felt... right. you couldn’t believe it, but you also couldn’t deny it anymore. the boy you’d spent more than a decade thinking you despised had somehow, quietly and stubbornly, carved out a place in your heart. and that was enough to make you want to scream at your pillow.
. . .
mandy steadied the ladder as you reached up to place a silver star on the highest branch you could manage. “careful there! don’t fall, clumsy,” she said, her voice fond.
you giggled, securing the star. “i’m fine! stop worrying, you sound like my mom.”
it was christmas eve, and the whole village was pitching in, their faces lit with smiles. you’d already exchanged a dozen small gifts; a jar of honey from mr. henderson, a knitted scarf from mrs. ahn, a pretty notebook from little kiki. you’d given out your own little packages of homemade cookies and hand-painted cards. the whole spirit of giving made your heart feel full.
right now, you were helping decorate the massive tree in the center of the square, working alongside mandy, layla, and a few others. your heart felt… lighter, somehow, after admitting your feelings to mandy last night. but it also made you feel more vulnerable, more exposed. you couldn’t quite believe it yourself, that you liked someone. and that someone being jungkook. the thought was both thrilling and terrifying.
speaking of him, you’d seen him around all day, though your paths hadn’t crossed at all. he seemed busy, the go-to guy for any heavy lifting or tasks that require strength. part of you (a part you tried so hard to ignore) had missed his annoying presence, the way he’d usually find you to poke and tease.
right now, he was across the square, being useful. you watched as he easily lifted a giant, heavily decorated wreath for old mrs. lee, who affectionately patted his bicep in thanks. he gave a short, silent nod to nancy as she handed him a tangled string of lights to fix. he was surrounded, as usual, by a small circle of women needing help. he didn’t seem to mind, he just did the task and moved on.
then you saw cynthia approach him. she looked so stunning, as always, in a chic caramel coat. she said something to him, smiling brightly, and placed a hand on his forearm, in a familiar, possessive gesture. jungkook didn’t pull away, he didn’t stiffen or step back. he just listened, gave a low grunt in response, and turned to untangle the lights. but he didn’t shake off her hand.
the sight alone was like a cold splash of water. it dragged back cynthia’s boasts from last night right to the front of your mind. the tiny, fragile hope you’d let yourself feel, that maybe, just maybe, his words were real, began to shrivel. he looked so comfortable with her, so indifferent to her touch. if he really liked you, wouldn’t he… wouldn’t he not be so casual with other women? his words to you must have just been part of his act, his flirty game he played with everyone. the doubt came crashing back, a heavy, sick feeling in your stomach.
you shook your head slightly, forcing the thoughts away. you wouldn’t let mandy see you upset. today was a happy day, so you plastered a bright smile on your face.
“this one next?” mandy asked, handing you a glittering red bauble.
“yes! perfect for right here,” you said, your voice a little too cheerful as you hooked it onto a branch.
meanwhile, jungkook was across the square, hefting a stack of firewood with roberto for mrs. ahn’s fireplace.
“bro, you are seriously stacked,” roberto said, huffing under his own load. “no wonder all the girls in the village are down bad for you, damn.”
jungkook just shrugged, adjusting his grip. “i own a gym. i work out.” his tone was casual, but his mind was elsewhere. it was on the fact that all the strength in the world didn’t seem to matter, because the one girl he actually wanted didn’t believe a word he said. you think that he’s full of shit, instead.
they deposited the wood by mrs. ahn’s door with a final grunt. the old woman beamed, pressing small, wrapped candies into their hands. “for my strong boys! thank you!”
“thank you, mrs. ahn!” roberto said, beaming.
jungkook gave a short nod and shoved the candy into his jacket pocket.
as they walked away, roberto nudged him. “man, i got totally shot down asking jessica out. her loss, right?” he laughed, not seeming too bothered by the rejection. “might try for cynthia next, but she’s way out of my league. she’s probably pinning on you anyway, right?” he said, the question careless and casual.
jungkook was seriously considering shoving roberto’s face into the nearest snowbank just to shut him up. but the last part snagged his attention. cynthia. yeah, that woman had been glued to his ass side since he got back. he knew exactly what she wanted, he could smell the intention a mile off. ever since she’d asked for his instagram she hadn’t stopped texting, sending pictures that were supposedly innocent but had a clear, suggestive undertone. he didn’t care though. he let her do what she wanted because his attention, his focus, his whole damn heart was, stupidly, completely set on you.
he shot roberto a sidelong glance. “not interested, she’s all yours if you want her.”
roberto laughed again, clapping him on the back. “you’re a real bro’s bro, man. come on, the guys are grabbing a beer.”
against his better judgment, jungkook let himself be steered toward a cluster of men near the pub. the moment he saw jayden among them, his mood soured instantly. he hadn’t forgotten what that piece of shit had said about you. his hands curled into fists at his sides, the instinct to swing almost overwhelming. but he forced his fingers to relax.
the guys greeted him, shoving a cold beer into his hand.
“heard you struck out with jessica.” sebastian said with a grin, elbowing roberto.
roberto groaned, running a hand over his face. “man, don’t remind me. i thought for sure after the festival… but nah. said my breath smelled like fish.”
the guys snorted. “what were you eating, dude?” aden laughed.
“i don’t even know! probably those sardine sandwiches my mom makes.” roberto took a swig of his beer, then leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial but still-too-loud whisper. “but hey, you win some, you lose some. i, uh… i might’ve accidentally won one last night i wasn’t supposed to.”
jungkook, who had been silently nursing his beer and staring at the condensation on the glass, barely listening, glanced up.
jayden’s eyes widened. “whoa, whoa. spill.”
roberto looked around, then mumbled, “marco’s sister. she was, uh, visiting for the pre-festival stuff.”
“bro,” khalid said, leaning forward. “you fucked marco’s sister? are you trying to die? i’m serious.”
“i was drunk!” roberto hissed, defending himself. “it was dark! i didn’t know it was her until, like, after!”
sebastian shook his head, a mix of disbelief and amusement on his face. “damn, man. your ass is grass if he finds out. she better not get pregnant.”
roberto puffed out his chest, a flash of drunken bravado. “nah, nah. i might’ve been three sheets to the wind, but my pull-out game? never fails me bro. that shit is, like, muscle memory.”
jayden choked on his beer, laughing. “muscle memory? dude, that’s not a skill you wanna brag about.”
“hey, it’s kept me out of trouble so far!” roberto insisted, though he looked a little pale at the thought of marco. he quickly changed the subject, his eyes landing on jungkook, who had gone back to looking bored. “anyway, that’s my drama. what about you, jeon? you must be cleaning up. all these village girls looking at you like you’re a free steak.”
jungkook didn’t even look at him. he took a slow drink. “not interested.”
“not interested?” aden echoed. “come on, man. cynthia is basically throwing herself at you. i saw her glued to your side earlier. she’s fine as hell. you telling me you’re not even a little tempted?”
jungkook finally lifted his gaze. it was flat, devoid of the crude humor the others were trading in. “i said i’m not interested.” his voice held a finality that quieted the table for a beat.
sebastian recovered first, trying to lighten the mood. “he’s got a point. maybe he’s got a girl back in the city. a different one every night, right, jungkook?”
jungkook just shrugged, he didn’t confirm nor did he deny. his mind was elsewhere now as his eyes found you across the square, by the big tree. you were laughing, trying to adjust a sprig of mistletoe while mandy playfully tried to tickle you. you were wearing a soft-looking beige dress, your hair half-up, half-down, catching the light. you looked so beautiful it made his chest ache. fuck. how he wanted to walk over there, wrap his arms around you, and just bury his face in your hair.
then a voice cut through his thoughts, sharp and clear.
“...so you’re really gonna ask her tonight?” one of the guys was saying to jayden.
jungkook’s attention snapped back to them.
jayden nodded, a smug little smile on his face. “yeah, i am. hoping she’ll say yes.”
a couple of the guys chuckled and nudged him. “she’ll definitely say yes, man. didn’t she already agree to go out with you before? after the festival?”
jayden’s smirk widened. “something like that.”
the group murmured their approval, raising their beers in a half-hearted toast.
jungkook’s blood ran cold, then hot. this fucker was going to ask you out. and from the sound of it, he thought he had a chance with you. a red haze took over jungkook’s vision. there was no way. absolutely no fucking way he was going to let that happen. he took a long, slow drink of his beer, his eyes never leaving jayden, a picture already forming in his mind, that involved his fists and jayden’s face if he ever thought to get one step closer to you.
. . .
your mother gently fixed the silver butterfly pendant she’d made into your hair. “there,” she murmured, her voice full of quiet pride. “my beautiful girl.” she kissed the top of your head, and you leaned into the touch, wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug.
“i love it, mama, thank you!” you whispered, your heart swelling with love. she was your whole world. growing up without a father had meant she’d been everything, both mother and father, your rock, your confidante. her strength and kindness were the foundations of your life, and in moments like this, you felt that bond so deeply it almost ached.
after she went to help the other women with the final food preparations, you stood alone for a moment, watching the children shrieking with laughter as they chased each other through the fresh snow. your eyes, almost against your will, began to scan the busy square. you searched for a familiar leather jacket, a certain set of broad shoulders, but you couldn’t spot jungkook anywhere. a faint, silly disappointment settled in your chest.
suddenly, a gentle poke in your side made you jump.
you turned to see jayden smiling down at you, a soft laugh escaping him. “did i scare you?”
you let out a breathy laugh of your own, placing a hand over your heart. “you startled me a little!”
“sorry,” he said, though he didn’t look too sorry. he was always so calm. “i was just finishing setting up the children’s gift booth over there and saw you standing here. thought you might like to help me put the last of the toys out? could use an expert opinion on what the little ones will like most.”
you knew you were feeling dejected, confused, and a little lonely. so helping with something for the children sounded like the perfect, pure distraction. “of course,” you said, giving him a genuine, if small, smile. “i’d love to help.”
as you walked with him to the booth, you couldn’t help but notice how different he was from jungkook. jayden was kind man, his attention was always so focused and sincere. he asked about your ankle, about your mom, about the school. he didn’t play confusing, hot-and-cold games. he was straightforward, and his smile always easy. and yet, even as you appreciated his gentle company, a traitorous part of your mind kept slipping away, wondering where he was, what he was doing. you mentally scolded yourself. it was so rude to be thinking of someone else while you were with jayden, who was being nothing but nice to you.
you were arranging stuffed animals on a table when your gaze drifted past jayden’s shoulder, and you froze.
there was jungkook. he was wearing a scarf. a thick, grey, hand-knitted scarf. your scarf. you’d made it last week and gave it to mrs. jeon this morning as an early christmas gift. and now it was wrapped around his neck, tucked into his leather jacket.
jayden, noticing your distracted stare and your suddenly flushed cheeks, completely misinterpreted. he thought his presence was making you shy, flustered in a good way. a confident smirk touched his lips.
he stepped a little closer, blocking your view of jungkook, and gently took your attention back. “you know,” he began, his voice smooth and careful, “i’ve really enjoyed spending more time with you lately. you’re… unlike anyone else here.” he paused, his eyes sincere. “i’ve actually had feelings for you for a while now, and i was wondering… if you’d consider giving me a real chance. let me take you out properly, not just as friends.”
you were completely flustered, because his confession was so sincere, so gentle. it was touching. aside from jungkook’s frustrating, teasing declarations, jayden was the first man in the village to ever ask you out so directly. a part of you was deeply moved by his honesty. but another, larger part just felt… sad. you liked jayden. he was a good man, polite, stable, charming. any girl would be so lucky to have him. but you liked him the same way you liked a friend, a brother, with platonic affection and respect. it was totally different than the dizzying, all-consuming storm that thinking of jungkook brought.
you opened your mouth, ready to gently let him down, to thank him and explain you valued his friendship too much. you wanted to be kind, to be the good person you always tried to be. “jayden, that’s so sweet, i–”
your words died in your throat, as your eyes flickered over his shoulder again.
jungkook was still there, but so was cynthia. she was standing so close to him, her body angled into his space. from your distance, your angle, it looked unmistakable. her face was tilted up, her hand was on his cheek, and it looked for all the world like she was kissing him. jungkook’s back was to you, his posture rigid, but you didn’t see him pushing her away. in fact, his head was bent, leaning down toward her.
your world tilted violently, as the air left your lungs in a silent gasp. the last fragile thread of hope you’d been clinging to, the hope that maybe, just maybe, he meant what he said, shattered into a million icy pieces in your chest. the pain that you felt was instant and breathtaking.
you snapped your gaze back to jayden, your vision blurring with unshed tears. you were seconds away from breaking down right there in the snow. in your hurt, in your raw, overwhelming need to escape the agony of what you just seen, you did something completely unlike yourself.
you gave jayden a wobbly, watery smile, your voice trembling. “okay,” you whispered, the word feeling foreign on your tongue. “let’s… let’s try.”
it had nothing to do with wanting jayden. it was the most selfish, unlike-you thing you’d ever done. it was about running as fast as you could from the soul-crushing pain of the heartbreak jungkook had just delivered. and even as you said it, the image of him and cynthia, kissing, burned behind your eyelids, a wound you knew wouldn’t heal anytime soon.
. . .
as the night deepened, the village square turned into one a single, vibrant living room. no one celebrated alone here. it was a tradition, one big family under the starry winter sky. the air was filled with joyful noise; live folk music from a few men with guitars and a fiddle, the constant hum of happy chatter, bursts of laughter, and the rustle of gift exchanges.
you’d been sticking close to jayden ever since your conversation. after you’d accepted his offer, he’d pulled you into a hug that felt too tight, too long. now, his hand seemed permanently fixed to the small of your back, a possessive weight that felt foreign and uncomfortable to you. when you caught mandy’s eye across the crowd, she was staring at jayden’s hand with a deep, questioning frown. you looked away quickly, a knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach.
meanwhile, jungkook had been trying to ditch cynthia for the last hour. she’d been glued to his ass ever since he’d left the pub, finding new reasons to be near him.
“jungkook, your scarf is crooked,” she’d say, reaching to “fix” it, her fingers lingering on the scarf– your scarf.
“it’s fine,” he’d grunt, stepping back.
“you should come by my place later. i have this amazing spiced wine,” she’d suggest, her voice a purr.
“nah, busy.”
he’d finally managed to lose her by ducking somewhere quiet to take a call from jimin about a gym equipment delivery. he was leaning against the cold brick wall, the phone to his ear, when she found him again. the call ended, and he shoved his phone back in his pocket with a sigh.
“there you are,” cynthia said, appearing in front of him like a ghost. she stepped closer to him. “hiding from me?”
“i’m not hiding. i’m busy,” jungkook said, his voice flat. he tried to move past her, but she shifted, blocking his way.
“you’re always ‘busy’. what’s so important it can’t wait for christmas eve?” she pouted, but her eyes were menacing. she reached up, her hand aiming for his face. “you have a little snow…”
he caught her wrist before her fingers could touch his cheek, his grip firm but not rough. “don’t.”
“don’t what?” she challenged, leaning closer. “i’m just being friendly. you seemed to like it well enough earlier.”
“i didn’t,” he stated, releasing her arm. “i don’t. just back off, cynthia. i’m not interested.”
“not interested?” she laughed, but it was a sharp, brittle sound. “come on. i see the way you look at me. we’re the same, kook. we don’t belong in this boring little village. we understand the real world.” she moved in again, this time more boldly, her body pressing against his, her face tilting up. “stop playing hard to get.”
before he could shove her away properly, her hands came up, one gripping the lapel of his jacket, the other grabbing the side of his face, trying to pull him down to her level. she was strong, and for a split second, her mouth was dangerously close to his.
that was all it took.
he jerked his head back, his hands coming up to firmly grasp her shoulders, pushing her back with enough force to make her stumble. “i said back the fuck off,” he growled, his voice low and deadly serious. all traces of his usual bored indifference were gone, replaced by cold, clear anger. “i am not playing, i am not interested. get this shit through your head. do not touch me again.”
she stared at him, her perfect composure cracking, revealing shock and furious embarrassment. “i– you’re an asshole,” she spat.
“finally, something we agree on,” he shot back, turning his back on her and striding out without a second glance.
he’d come looking for you after that, his nerves frayed, needing the calm he only seemed to find around you. but the one time he’d managed to get close, you’d flinched away from him like he was a stranger, avoiding his eyes entirely. that silent rejection had cut deeper than anything else, sparking a frustrated anger within him.
now, that anger was at a rolling boil as he watched you with jayden. he saw the other man’s hand on your back like he owned you. who the hell does he think he is? the thought was red-hot in his mind. and why the fuck are you letting him? the sight made his blood run hot.
people were dancing, singing along badly to the music, clinking glasses. jayden had been drinking steadily, and the alcohol was making him bolder. you felt his hold around your waist tighten, pulling you closer against his side. you shifted, trying to create a little space.
“jayden, you’re… you’re holding me a little tight,” you whispered, gently squeezing his forearm.
he just grinned down at you, his breath warm and heavy with the smell of beer. “did i tell you how gorgeous you look tonight?” he slurred, leaning in closer.
you leaned back, your discomfort growing. “please, you’re making me uncomfortable,” you said softly, trying to be polite, to not make a scene.
he didn’t seem to hear. his hand slid lower, dangerously close to the curve of your backside. you stiffened, your heart pounding against your ribs in sudden fear. this wasn’t the gentle jayden you knew. he dipped his head, his lips brushing your earlobe. “i’ve always wanted you,” he whispered, the words thick and sloppy.
you scrunched your face, putting your hands on his chest to push him away. “jayden, stop–”
suddenly, the heavy weight of him vanished. you stumbled forward a step as jayden was yanked backwards with so much force he almost lost his footing.
you looked up. jungkook stood there, chest heaving, his eyes pure fury fixed on jayden. “take your hands off her,” he growled, his voice a low threat that cut through the music.
jayden, swaying slightly, wiped his mouth and smirked, the alcohol making him stupidly brave. “she’s with me, jeon. back off.”
jungkook took a step forward, closing the distance. “you put your filthy hands on her like that again, and i’ll break every fucking one of them.”
jayden laughed, a mocking, drunken sound. he staggered closer, getting right in jungkook’s face, though he had to look slightly up to do it. “what’s the matter?” he hissed, his voice dripping with provocation. “jealous? i finally get to fuck her, and you can’t?”
that was it. the last thread of jungkook’s control snapped.
his fist connected with jayden’s jaw with a sickening crack. it was one punch, but it carried all of jungkook’s pent-up frustration, his fear for you, his possessiveness, and his own wounded heart. jayden’s head snapped to the side, and he crumpled like a sack of stones, landing hard in the snow with a heavy thud, groaning.
a collective gasp rippled through the crowd. the music faltered, as people stopped dancing and turned to stare.
you clapped your hands over your mouth, a horrified squeak escaping you.
but jungkook didn’t even glance at jayden writhing in the snow. he turned his furious, pained gaze directly on you. in two strides, he was before you. he reached out, his fingers closing around your wrist. his grip was firm, but it wasn’t rough. and without a word, ignoring the rising shouts of “hey!” and “what happened?”, he started pulling you, stumbling, away from the stunned crowd.
you stumbled through the snow, trying to yank your arm free, your boots slipping on the ice. your chest felt so tight. his breathing was loud and uneven, like he was running on nothing but pure anger.
when he finally stopped and spun around to face you, his voice exploded in the quiet alley. “what the fuck was that? you and him– are you serious right now?”
you shook your head, tears already streaming down your cold cheeks, overwhelmed. “jungkook, stop, you’re hurting me– why are you doing this?”
“after everything i told you?” he cut in immediately, his words sharp. “i told you to stay away from that fucker. i told you he was no good! and you still stood there with him like i didn’t say shit?”
you choked out a sob. “you don’t get to say that! you don’t get to control who i talk to! you took it too far jungkook, you punched him– why would you do that?”
he laughed, a harsh, ugly sound, and stepped closer, crowding your space. “why do you think? because i told you i like you, and you still didn’t trust me. and yet you trusted him– some fucker who had his hands all over you.”
that’s when you lost it completely. because, why was he acting all protective over you, like he really liked you when not even too long ago he was kissing an other girl? what jayden did was not something to casually shake off but currently, your mind was too fogged to think properly. your voice broke as you yelled, “because at least he’s honest! he doesn’t mess with my head! he doesn’t say one thing and do another– he doesn’t tell me he likes me and then go kiss someone else like i don’t matter!” the words spilled out between sobs. “i saw you, jungkook! i saw you with cynthia today, so don’t look at me like that!”
he froze. the anger on his face flickered into confusion. “what? what are you talking about?”
but you were spiraling, the hurt pouring out. “you keep pulling me in and then pushing me away! you make me feel stupid for believing you! stop doing that, just stop! if you want her, then be with her and leave me alone!”
something in his face cracked. he spoke over you, the words tumbling out fast, like he was afraid you’d stop listening. “she tried to kiss me, but i shoved her off and told her to get lost.” he stepped closer even though you were shaking. “i don’t even give a fuck about anyone else. i only ever notice someone when they’re near you.”
you shook your head, the tears coming harder. “you’re lying,” you sobbed, the words choked and wet. “you’re always lying to me. you say things and then you do the opposite, and i don’t know what to believe!”
“i’m not lying!” he fired back, his voice rising, not at you, but at the whole fucked situation. “what do you want from me, huh? what do i have to do?” his hands raked through his hair. “you want me to throw every other woman in this village into the damn lake? you want me to walk around with a sign that says i’m yours? tell me! because i’ll fucking do anything if it means you’ll believe me.”
the words hit you all at once, too fast, too heavy, and your brain couldn’t catch up. somewhere deep down, you knew he was being honest, that this was as close to begging as he got, but everything inside you was already overloaded. you knew you were being unfair. you knew you were lashing out. but knowing didn’t stop the tightness of your chest, the coldness of your hands, the overlapping thoughts. you didn’t even know what you wanted him to say anymore.
you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling small and broken, “then– then why does it feel like you don’t care?” you said, sobbing, “i don’t know what i’m saying,” you added helplessly, almost to yourself. “i just– everything happened so fast, and i’m scared, i’m sorry if i–”
“don’t,” he cut in immediately. “don’t you fucking apologize.” his voice dropped, rough and raw. “i’m bad at this. i always say the wrong shit. i fuck up– but i swear to god– i’m not playing with you.” his voice dropped, admitting the ugly truth. “i punched him because he fucking touched you and i– i like you. i’ve always liked you. you’re the only person in this whole damn village that matters to me. but you–”
you stood there, crying silently while listening to him.
he shook his head, a frustrated, pained look crossing his face. “–you trust everyone. you’re nice to everyone. even the ones who talk shit about you. even the ones who would take advantage of you in a heartbeat. but you won’t ever trust me. and that… that fucks with my head more than anything.”
the silence that followed was thick and strange, broken only by the sound of your uneven breathing and the distant echo of music from the festival below. for the first time since he’d dragged you away, jungkook didn’t look angry. he looked... wrecked. his shoulders were still tense, his jaw tight, but his eyes softened when he finally noticed how badly you were shaking, your arms wrapped tight around yourself as if trying to hold everything together. the fight seemed to drain out of him all at once, too.
you sniffed, wiping your face with the back of your sleeve. “i... i believe you.”
he swore under his breath, a low, rough sound. he stepped closer instinctively, his big hands hovering in the air for a second, like he was afraid to touch you the wrong way, fuck, he wanted to hold you in his arms right now, so bad. but then, with a carefulness that felt foreign on him, he cupped your face. his thumbs brushed clumsily at your wet cheeks, smearing the tears.
“fuck,” he muttered, his forehead dropping against yours. his breath was warm and uneven against your skin. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to scare you. i shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.” his voice was still gruff, but there was something raw and vulnerable underneath it now. he never apologized for punching that piece of shit because if he had an other chance at doing it, he will do it again and again. “i can’t do this right, i don’t know how to behave when i’m angry. but i would never hurt you. never.”
you nodded shakily, as you were unconsciously leaning into his touch.
“don’t be scared,” he murmured, the words quiet. it sounded like he was telling it to himself, too.
the air between you shifted slightly. his gaze dropped to your lips, his own parting slightly. he started to lean down, his intent was clear, as his movements were slow, giving you every chance to pull away.
your mind went blissfully, terrifyingly blank. everything melted away under the warmth of his hands and the raw honesty in his eyes. he was going to kiss you, and your body wasn’t willing to pull away at all. your eyes fluttered shut.
but suddenly, something small and soft barreled between your legs, rubbing against your ankles.
you let out a short, sharp scream jumping fully into jungkook’s chest. he reacted instantly, his arms snapping around you, holding you tight against him as he scanned you, his body coiled protectively. “what? what is it?”
a familiar little bark answered him.
both of you looked down. rocky sat in the snow at your feet, his tail wagging furiously, tongue lolling out.
you stared at the dog.
jungkook stared at the dog.
then you looked at each other. the sheer absurdity of the moment hit you both at once. a choked laugh escaped you, followed by another, until you were both laughing. jungkook’s arms were still around you, but now his hold was looser, his laughter vibrating against your back where you were pressed against him.
jungkook let out a breath that sounded half like a laugh, half like a curse, eyes dropping to the dog before flicking back to you. “little one needs some more training. so he stops running away. and interrupting moments like these, yeah?” he was clearly teasing you, since rocky was your dog.
you giggled, still clinging to his jacket for a second longer before scooping down. “he wasn’t running away,” you pulled rocky into your arms, his cold nose nudging your chin. “he just got worried about me. didn’t you, my little boy?” you buried your face into his fur, fingers scratching behind his ears, your voice was soft and affectionate in a way that always did something awful to jungkook’s chest.
when you looked back up at him. the realization hit you all at once. you never told him you liked him back. your cheeks flushed hot. you never said it. you said that you believed him, yes, but you never said you liked him, never said anything at all, and wasn’t he literally about to kiss you? your stomach twisted. wait... did he already figure it out? did he see it when you closed your eyes?
before you could overthink yourself into passing out, you felt a finger tap your forehead. “you’re loud,” he said with a smirk. “i can hear you thinking from here.” you yelped softly, hugging rocky tighter as you turned your face away. “i– no– i was not,” you mumbled, heat flooding your cheeks. “we should probably go back now. everyone’s gonna start wondering where we went.”
jungkook gave you a look that said not a chance, before snorting. “nah,” he said, suddenly grabbing your wrist and tugging you the opposite way. “i’ve got a better idea.”
“wait, where are we going?” you asked, struggling a little to match his long strides while holding rocky. “people are gonna worry! and you still need to apologize to jayden!” you added, pouting despite yourself.
he stopped so suddenly you yelped, bumping into his back. he turned to face you, eyes sharp. “did he make you uncomfortable?” he asked, his voice low.
you hesitated, fingers tightening in rocky’s fur, then nodded slowly. “…yeah.”
you saw his jaw clench. “then i’m not apologizing,” he said flatly. “and if i ever see him again, i’ll do worse.” you gasped, immediately scolding him. “jungkook! no! that’s– violence isn’t the answer, okay? what he did was wrong but you can’t just–” you stopped when you noticed the corner of his mouth lifting. he was smirking at your little angry pout like it was his favorite thing in the world.
but then his expression shifted again, turning into something serious. “i’m not joking,” he said quietly. “anyone who thinks about touching you like that? i’ll break them. just so you know.” the raw sincerity in his voice made your blush deepen. it was terrifying and, somehow, made you feel incredibly safe.
he tugged at your wrist again, lighter this time. “now, come on. work those little legs.” he started walking.
you whined immediately. “you still didn’t tell me where we’re going!” your protest followed him all the way up the path, until the trees opened and the familiar cliff came into view.
the place where he’d first brought you on his bike. the village lights twinkled peacefully below, a world away from the chaos you’d just lived.
jungkook let go of your hand and stood beside you, looking out. “i’m still waiting, you know,” he said after a moment of quiet.
you turned to him, confused. “huh?”
he looked back at you, a small, nervous smirk on his face. it looked different from his usual confident ones. “you know. you still haven’t replied to my very pathetic confessions.”
oh.
oh no.
that was what you were scared of.
you thought that maybe he’d forget, or that your actions had been answer enough. you gulped, suddenly unable to meet his eyes, focusing intensely on rocky’s fur. your words tripped over themselves when you tried to speak. “i– i didn’t– i thought maybe you forgot and–”
jungkook laughed softly, the sound warm in the cold air. “how do you get any cuter when you’re nervous?” he reached out and put his hand on top of your head, ruffling your hair gently. it only made you shy away further, burying your face in rocky’s scruff.
shit, he thought. you were going to be the death of him, because how could anyone look at you; so soft, so flustered, so genuinely good, and not fall straight on their face for you? he’d give you the whole damn world if you just asked for it.
he cleared his throat. “you know what,” he said, pulling your attention back. his smirk faded into something more serious, more vulnerable. “i don’t think i like you.” he paused, letting the words hang. “i think… fuck, i think i’m in love with you.”
your heart stopped, then slammed against your ribs. he loved you. jungkook loved you. you just stared, frozen, until he laughed awkwardly and scratched his neck. “damn, little bear,” he said as shook his head. “am i that hard to love, huh?”
his joking tone broke the spell. you startled, shaking your head rapidly. “no! it’s not like that!” you took a deep, shaky breath, looking down at rocky, who was now dozing peacefully in your arms. you mumbled into his fur, the words so quiet they were almost lost to the wind. “i… i do like you.”
you were pretty sure you were about to faint.
jungkook’s eyes lit up. he leaned in closer, grinning. “hm? what was that?” he teased. “didn’t quite catch it.” he’d actually heard you perfectly. he was trying his absolute hardest to act cool, to not let his composure completely crumble right there in front of you. it wouldn’t look good for his tough-guy image. but internally, he felt like the happiest, luckiest bastard on the whole goddamn planet.
you huffed, flustered, but glowing. “you’re so annoying,” you muttered. his grin widened. yeah. he was doomed.
Synopsis: requested - Your husband, Jungkook, sometimes needs a little reminding that you are his just as much as he is yours.
Warnings: mdni, 18+, smut, dirty talk?, praise, thigh riding, face riding, jealous! jungkook, possessive! jungkook, husband! jungkook, pet names (Baby, My love, I think My wife at one point), descriptive words guys, I'm talking drooling, tears, a hint of overstim if you look, mention of a mating press, no mention of protection, pwp, etc.
wc: 2.1k+
[proceed with caution - smut under the 'keep reading' tab]
The after party is a success for all purposes and tenses. Anyone who was anyone was there, from the actors to the singers and producers, all under the same roof, connecting over clear flute-shaped glasses filled with alcohol.
It was great, some would say amazing, but the car ride with your husband, Jungkook, is eerily quiet.
Your husband had been a gentleman all night, never straying too far from you other than to get you a new drink when your glass was empty. And it was in those moments, away from you, that he couldn’t help but grow frustrated.
You see, by this point, everyone should know he is your husband. You usually couldn’t find him without finding you and vice versa. In a room full of people, he gravitates towards you, and you feel the exact same. You two were a packaged deal, each other’s other half, but there was always someone who just didn’t seem to get that.
Jungkook’s hand burns life throughout your body when it rests on your lower back as he guides you back into your shared home, and you can’t help but think about tonight. Every moment with Jungkook played in your head fresh all over again.
When you two had arrived, Jungkook offered you his arm to help you out of the car and up every step leading into the gala. His arm stayed snug, wrapped around your waist, keeping you against his firm body as you two made polite rounds, saying hello to anyone you recognized at the party. When you two sat down, Jungkook dragged your chair over until it touched his. His thigh pressed into yours as he wrapped his arm around the back of your chair like it was normal to practically have you in his lap in public as he talked to whoever sat on his left.
But still, the few moments he wasn’t practically glued to your body, people wanted what wasn’t theirs, and he had to watch as men hung to every word you spoke like you hung the stars themselves in the night sky. And hey, Jungkook looked at you like that always. He truly believed you hung the moon, the stars, the whole solar system, when he looked at you. He thanked those same lucky stars every night that he got to call you his wife. And it baffled him that he was yours as much as you were his. That’s why he couldn’t understand how some people didn’t see that?
That people thought they had a chance with you. As if Jungkook wouldn’t give you the world if you just asked. Can they not see the way he made you smile, laugh, and glow so brightly that he sometimes felt like he should squint when looking at you too long?
He still hasn’t spoken a word as you two make your way to the bedroom. His tie is loose around his neck, and the top of his button-down shirt is unbuttoned, exposing his chest as he leaves his suit jacket on the floor. He doesn’t hesitate when sliding to his knees in front of you.
You thought you two would possibly shower together after a long night of small talk, but Jungkook has other ideas. He pulls one of your legs up, resting your heel on his thigh as he uses one hand to softly massage your calf as he unclasps your sparkly heel at the ankle with his other hand. He throws the heel to the side before repeating the action to your other foot, and you think it’s unfair for him to look so good doing something so simple.
And then his eyes meet yours.
With one look, your husband has heat pooling in your lower stomach as he stands up.
He takes your hands as he walks backwards until he’s sitting on the edge of your bed, and you feel the temperature in the room rise. “C’mere,” he speaks softly, guiding you onto his lap until you’re straddling his thigh - only your laced panties and his pants separating you from skin-to-skin contact. Your dress pools on either side of his slack-covered thigh while his hand presses on your lower back until you’re practically flushed against him, and your breath hitches as he tips your chin up so you can look at him properly.
“Jungkook-“ you whisper and watch his eyes flicker to your glossy lips, his pupils blown as you say his name softly.
“Tell me you’re mine,” Jungkook demands. He says it like it’s not true, and your mind reels, your fingers digging into the front of his shirt like it’ll somehow bring you two closer together.
“I’m yours, always, only yours.”
And Jungkook knows this; he’s not insecure, he’s possessive. His warm hands squeeze your hips, his tongue rolling over his bottom lip as you tell him exactly what he already knows. But tonight, words aren’t enough; he needs more - he wants more. “Yeah?” He hums, and your eyelashes flutter as he leans closer to you. “Show me.”
Those two words are enough to feel like electricity zapped through you both. You don’t know who moves first, but like two magnets, both of you pull together, and your lips crash into his. And the room hums in agreement.
Within seconds, Jungkook is shirtless, the button-down discarded somewhere while his hands slip under your dress. He drags your pretty lace-covered cunt along his thigh, your panties giving your sensitive clit delicious friction as he guides you back and forth on his leg while his tongue coaxes your mouth open to deepen the kiss.
He knows your body like he knows everything about you. He knows just where to touch, to caress, to have the sweetest noises falling from your lips. And he swallows each one like it’ll be the last one he hears. His tongue rolls over yours languidly, leaving you dizzy and breathless as your own hips rut mindlessly, succumbing to all that is Jungkook. He’s got you like putty in his hands within seconds, having you riding his thigh desperately and needy until your panties are drenched in your sweet slick and you’re seeping onto his thigh.
It’s hot, lewd, and filthy the way your moans echo in your shared bedroom. It raises the temperature in the room until you’re hot all over, your nails dragging along his back as he builds you up for an orgasm that’s fast approaching. His kisses sear down your jaw and neck as he mumbles against your skin. He still has a possessive hold on you, his voice low as your eyes roll to the back of your head, holding onto him for dear life.
“That’s right, show me you’re mine, Pretty. Use me, cum on my thigh, wanna see you fall apart.” He praises, and your whines only grow louder. Your laced panties stick to your drooling cunt like second skin, rubbing against your clit with each roll of your hips, and Jungkook’s hands grab handfuls of your ass as your movements grow erratic. “Want you to soak my thigh, my love. Want your pretty pussy drooling for me. Cum for me and let me lick you clean after-“
His words don’t stop just like your moments, growing filthier until it leaves you gasping, the promises sending you right over the edge as you cry out his name with a plea. Your orgasm flashes through you, warm and electric. Your hips buck sloppily as your cunt gushes wetly onto his slacks until they stick to his thigh with a wet patch that will make you blush later. And the entire time, Jungkook talks you through it.
“So pretty,” he coos, dragging you over his flexed thigh as your clit throbs wantonly. “Did so good for me, Baby.” He hums and you sniffle, your eyelashes wet with tears as he kisses your neck soft and slowly.
But then you’re blinking your blurry vision away in confusion when Jungkook lies back. You’re still straddling him, and he’s looking up at you like you can’t see how his hard cock presses against the seam of his slacks. Like his cock wasn’t aching to be buried deep in your fluttering pussy until all you knew was his name. “What-“ you don’t get the chance to question him before he’s giving you another order.
“Strip for me and come sit on my face, let me lick you clean, my love.”
Fuck.
You whimper at his words, your cunt clenching around nothing as you stand up on wobbly legs. You follow your husband’s instructions without hesitation. You slip your dress off, your panties following until you’re completely bare for him. And Jungkook’s cock twitches at the sight of you. He can see how your eyes sparkle, still glossy from your orgasm, and your slick drips down your thighs as he reaches out for you. “C’mere, Baby, want to taste you.” He says it softly, luring you onto the bed as you crawl up his firm body, not stopping until your plush thighs straddle either side of his face.
And Jungkook holds in the curse he wants to let out when he sees just how soaking wet your pretty pussy is for him. Your folds are glittering with your sweet slick that seeps from your tender cunt as you hover right over his waiting mouth. Your thighs still tremble, and your clit throbs in need while you wait for his next move.
You can feel him pant against your cunt like a man always hungry for more. And when his big arms wrap around your thighs, he forces you to lean forward to hold onto the headboard in anticipation. He wastes no time in pulling you down onto his face like he doesn’t need air to breathe. His cock jerks inside his slacks as his tongue laps your puffy folds with broad strokes, slurping your arousal like it is his favorite dessert. His moans get muffled by your thighs, and his nose swipes over your sensitive clit with each shake of his head.
You’re at his mercy, as he slaps your ass, making you ride his face as he curls his tongue deep inside your dripping hole. The obscene squelches your pussy makes, compete with Jungkook’s lovesick groans. He can’t get enough of you, the filthy ‘plap, plap, plaps ‘ of your pussy dragging across his mouth only getting him more pussy drunk by the second. His jaw slacks open wider, his lips sucking your wet folds into a French kiss that has your eyes crossing lewdly in response. His name falls from your glossy lips like a mantra, and your hips buck as he holds you to him.
It doesn’t take long before the familiar heat in your lower stomach spreads, your jaw dropping as he makes you see stars form behind your eyelids. Your fingers reach down to twist in his hair, your thighs spreading wider and only making him moan louder as you allow yourself to let go like he wants.
Your movements grow sloppier, the chase for your orgasm taking over as he swirls the tip of his tongue around your clit. He’s spelling out his vows he gave you on your wedding day, but you don’t even realize, your mind slowly turning into mush as your arousal drips down his throat in waves. And he swallows every honeyed drop eagerly, his cock leaking milky precum all into his boxers as you ride him into the bed.
And with a few more drags back and forth, you’re orgasming, your scream falling silent as you cum on his tongue heavily. His jaw aches, but he never lets up, sucking, lapping, and slurping your cunt through your orgasm until you're all soft and twitching at the touch.
And it’s only then that he lets you go. He lies you down, your pussy puffy like his lips, and your eyes glazed over in awe. Your arousal covers half of his face in a light sheen, and his tongue licks whatever it can reach while he kneels between your open legs. "Tell me again, my wife. Tell me you're mine."
When you look up at your husband, you're looking up at him with hearts in your eyes, your words slurring as you answer him. "Yours, always yours." And you feel his warm hands bend your knees to your chest, pushing you into a mating press that gets you all flustered once more.
"All mine," Jungkook hums, and you're quickly realizing your husband is still very much hard and wanting, his cock finally freed from his slacks as he guides it between your legs. "Yes, all mine. Now let me show you how much I'm yours."
A/N: If there are mistakes... whhhattttt??? no there isn't - pls ignore them, I didn't have anyone beta-
Anyways, love me some Jungkook - also love writing him as a husband obsessed with his wife, you.
synopsis: Honestly-- you can't believe Jimin. Sure, taking him off the streets, rehabilitating him was a no brainer, but this, this is just ridiculous! Growling, baring his teeth at your neighbour's angel of a Doberman hybrid. Practically squaring up with him right on the doorstep! Muttering about territory, about how you're his. That even if he had you first, Jimin would surely have you last. It's so stupid. Well, at least Hoseok is there to teach Jimin that sharing is caring, after all.
₊˚⊹ 𐂯┊: content: doberman!hoseok, golden retriever!jimin, human!reader, dubcon, implied somno, yandere/toxic!jimin+hoseok, whiny switch!jimin, mean dom!hoseok, sub!reader, minimal prep, freeuse, referenced ruts, you can try to find the plot, manipulation, public sex, sloppy seconds, knotting, denied knotting, mxm elements, quickies, sugar coated degradation, praise, subspace, cockdrunk reader sorry, ownership kink (hoseok considers himself your owner), grinding, threesome, voyerism, orgasm denial, jimin has a bit of a pain kink, lots of cum, territory disputes, petnames: bitch, mate, pup, omega -> part of ctrl the cold 2025
₊˚⊹ 𐂯┊: notes: I.... I got carried away again.... These two have been haunting my mind since this summer and they will continue to haunt me far into the future. This is my last pwp fic of this event as well I believe! I hope you enjoy <33 Have fun dealing with these two cause they're a handful ^>^
18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni
“No! I don’t wanna go! I don't want you to go!”
Whoever had propagated the lie that dog hybrids were the easiest type of hybrid to live with were dirty liars. Time and time again, you’ve gathered the evidence to disprove it. Laugh at the videos telling people how easy they are as pets or roommates. Have to bite your tongue at the commercials that play on tv.
Your one and only piece of evidence? The whiny pup in front of you– his shaggy tail held high and alert, soft golden ears pressed flat against his mop of dirty blonde. Hell, you’re sure that if you looked at the back of his neck, the hair would raised as if some recessive part of his genes still had hackles! Hackles!
The reason behind his defensive posture? The stomping of his petulant foot? Literally nothing! Well, nothing in your eyes, at least. You had simply told him moments prior that you would be going over to your kind, sweet, elderly next door neighbour’s house to help her in the yard with her garden! It wasn’t out of the ordinary in the slightest.
And of course her dog hybrid, Hoseok, would be there, too.
Okay, maybe you were being just a little bit facetious with the whole ‘absolutely no reason for him to be acting like a spoiled brat’ thing, the reason for his displeasure is obvious. He’s made it abundantly clear time and time again but that isn’t going to stop you from playing dumb.
His reason is just so– so– stupid.
Territorial, maybe.
Jimin has never liked Hoseok, not since their very first meeting at Miss Oswald’s front door.
It had been a few weeks after you had taken Jimin in off the streets– his frame finally starting to fill out a little, no longer just skin and bones and bruises from whatever fights he had gotten into out there. His entire being finally starting to glow.
At the time, his tail was whipping back and forth frantically as you stood in front of the door, having just pressed the bell. Happy yips, licks to your cheek planting themselves in place as he was practically vibrating with light. He had been so happy, so excited.
You? Your heart had been beating a mile a minute at how far he was coming along, how much he was already growing out of his shell. How carefree the energy around him always started to bend whenever he was relaxing on the couch or in the sun.
And then, then the switch happened.
It was night and day, honestly.
All of that light, that excitement shut down the moment your neighbour had opened the door, Hoseok standing right behind her frame.
His tail was wagging– of course it was, you had always known him to be a happy hybrid. A sunshine smile that warms up your toes even in the coldest winters, a hug so tight it might break your bones. Everything about him making someone feel just so safe and content. That same smile placed on his lips now as he looks at you, only you.
Like there's a whole Earth to orbit but the only thing that can draw his attention is you, type of smile.
The second Hoseok’s mouth opened to say your name in greeting, a low growl could be heard from behind your body. A singular sound that made you feel as if the birds decided to stop singing and the wind had ceased its own motion around you. One that had made your hair stand on end, to cause your pulse in your throat to raise just a few notches faster. One that you had never come out of Jimin before, right along with a swift tug at your wrist, urging you backwards. Away from the very thing he perceived as a threat.
Oh no– that he knew was a threat from just that singular look.
Hoseok only stood there with a simple tilt of his head, a gentle smirk finding his lips as Jimin continued to try to pull you back to the safety of your own home. Clearly unthreatened in the slightest, clearly amused at the affection Jimin so obviously had for you. He knew that look all too well, too.
Hoseok knew these games just as well as Jimin did, it seemed.
Ah, it really was unfair that he loved them, thrived in them. In the thrill of winning, in the thrill of the hunt. Especially when something as pretty as you is standing as the prize.
After you had finally managed to usher the mutt– Jimin– inside the house, he knew it was his job to make sure Jimin knew his place. What kind of alpha would he be, otherwise?
You had let out a squeak, entirely unaware of the competition already set in stone between the two as Hoseok pulled you into a hug, nuzzling into your neck as his eyes remained on the golden retriever. That same smirk stayed in place as he gave a simple lick to your neck. Something that could so easily be taken as innocent, a nice greeting from the doberman hybrid anything but as an all too familiar chill travelled down your spine at the feeling.
You knew what it meant.
Hoseok knew what it meant.
Jimin, fuck, obviously knew what it implied.
Hoseok wanted to keel over and laugh at the restraint Jimin held while his owner (Martha, Maryanne, he couldn’t remember her name right now) cooed over the golden retriever hybrid. At the way the Jimin’s ears swivelled almost manically trying to catch what was said when Hoseok pressed his lips to your ear. At the pinching of Jimin’s eyes as your cheeks flushed red, all while the doberman hybrids owner straightened out his hair and talked about how adorable he was.
The silent conversation, one you had missed entirely, between the dog hybrids was clear– Hoseok had you first. That didn’t mean Jimin wouldn’t have you last.
Oh. Hoseok knew this was going to be fun.
Especially when you, the every clueless human, thought they would be best friends right away. You knew Jimin had been excited to make one too! You truly could not– still can’t– understand why he just has to hate him so much.
Hoseok is practically an angel! Someone you consider yourself to be very close with, even now. He’s always so carefree and gentle with you and his owner. Always makes you laugh when you're sad, helps you clean your house when it just feels like too much. Takes you on walks at night whenever you just need to get out for a bit but don’t feel safe enough to go on your own. Hell, on particularly cold nights he would even risk sneaking out of his own house to go to yours just to help warm you up because he knows you keep the house a few degrees colder than you actually prefer.
So!! It makes no sense to you that Jimin wouldn’t like him all the same!! His outrage is completely unfounded.
Something about territory, at least that’s what he would tell you. His quiet, under-the-breath, grumbles that are always so hard to decipher no matter how hard you try– yet are adorable regardless. Huffs and puffs that didn’t feel as upset as he truly intended whenever faced with that little pout on your lips.
Unfortunately, their relationship only became more strained the more time Jimin spent under your care– spent with you.
It wasn’t anything you could have predicted, honestly, but it was welcome nonetheless. As the months passed, your relationship developed into something more than what it was supposed to be. At least, more than what society would allow his stance to be in your life.
But you had never seen hybrids as animals, as something as simple as a pet. Jimin was never an animal– never a golden retriever even if he had ears and a tail to match. He could think, he could feel. A few animalistic traits would never change that.
He was simply just… just Jimin. Your roommate that you care about a little too much. The one with the pretty smile and puffy cheeks that always complained about wanting more meat.
The one that dug holes in your backyard and played with you in the hose during the summer, but growled at any man who came within a ten foot vicinity of you in public.
The one who, despite how much he hated the man, went whining to Hoseok when you got the flu. So scared for your health, your safety after the man at the corner store kicked him out when he was trying to buy medicine for you that he tucked back his own pride and went to him of all people because he just didn’t know what could fix his human. What could make you better.
Your roommate that you sometimes let sneak into your bed when the nights are too cold and the idea of a body pressed against yours, holding you, keeping you safe practically left you whimpering into your pillow.
Somehow, he always heard. Like he was simply sitting outside your door. Waiting to hear that betrayed little sound of your lips and the soft call of his name.
Neither of you could stop the feelings from developing, and while the true stature behind your relationship had never been spoken out loud or defined, you both knew something was there. You would never deny it.
But Jimin, poor Jimin, has always been an anxious guy. He didn’t like when you took too long in the shower without him, or when you would have to leave for work during the day. A scenting frenzy would occur the second you stepped through the door, making you promise to never leave him like that again because he simply could not live without you by his side.
And that is exactly why Park Jimin could never know that before he came into your life, you harboured the same feelings for Jung Hoseok, lest you actually want the golden to rip his face off.
Jimin could never know of those stolen memories you had with the doberman hybrid when he would sneak away from his owner. Could never know of the stolen kisses, the soft touches. The almost-claiming bites he would press into your neck when you were fast asleep, completely unaware of the danger that lurked behind Hosoek’s sun.
The fact that Jimin’s knot wasn’t the first you had ever taken– nor could he ever know about what occurred when you were sitting Hoseok for Miss Oswald 3 months before Jimin had come into your care. How you had helped him through his rut. How you found yourself unable to say no to him every time after.
No, he could never know about any of it.
You had already caught Jimin looking at Zillow one too many mornings. No more than a simple ‘goodmorning’ from Hoseok setting him off when you two coincidentally met at the conjoined mailbox.
He said the mutt– doberman, you would correct– was plotting, you told him it was a simple coincidence. It was a repeated pattern over and over again. Only recently did you convince him to stop leaving printed out pictures of houses for sale all over the building.
Yeah, Jimin can’t know. You would do anything in your power to keep it that way.
Ah, it’s unfortunate for you that he already does.
Did from that very first meeting when that stupid dog tried to mark you as his right in front of him. Tried to call you his bitch without formally saying the words out loud. The audacity! And you just– you let him when you’re his and not his! You know?! Uhg, whatever, as if you would be Hoseoks’ for long.
Funny. As if.
“I told her last week we could help today, Min! You agreed then!” You whine in return, crossing your arms over your chest, mimicking his childishly defiant stance.
“Well I didn't know he was going to be there!” The low grumbles he let out almost made you want to coo. Jimin has never been much of a fighter, but the grumbles he always let out made your belly flutter up.
You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Where else would he be, exactly?”
He opens his mouth to respond, a cocky expression taking over his face, but you stop him with a sharp pinch of a glare, your head jutting out slightly as if to test him, “And don’t you dare say ‘the pound’.”
He visibly deflates, his foot kicking at nonexistent dirt on the ground as his throat lets out a series of little grumbles. Tail wagging slowly behind him as he contemplates his next action.
Before you give him the chance to, you’re already turning to leave. Grabbing your bag off of the couch with a little ‘humph’ of your own, leaving him to flounder after you as you make, well, try to make your way to the door. Arms already securing around your midsection as he stumbles to keep up, a high pitched whine leaving his throat as you try to make your way towards his biggest threat.
“W-wait!” His voice is nothing more than a yip as he secures you in place, head nuzzling its way into your neck. Nose rubbing back and forth against the underside of your jaw, trying to soak his scent deeper into your skin like you aren’t covered in it already.
But he needs to be sure. Needs to make sure Hoseok is sure, too.
“Are you sure we can’t just stay home?” His voice is sad now, a whimper as his tail curls itself around one of your legs. His hands firm and insistent in their claim over you. His rubbing not ceasing for a second, your neck practically raw from the attention he’s been giving it all morning.
He doesn’t care. It’s not enough.
It never is unless it’s your cunt stuffed full of him. Only then can he be positive other hybrids won’t try to stake their claim over you. Stake their claim over what is rightfully his just because he said so.
A sigh is all that can be heard from below his hunched posture, one of your hands coming up to rub at his pinned-back ear, “Minnie… I already told you we gotta go… Miss Oswald said she needs help and I’m not going back on a promise. I can go without you if you–”
“No!” His denial is sharp, high pitched as he somehow tucks you closer. Encases your entire being in the expanse of his chest. It’s only times like these that he remembers how small you feel against him. Or maybe just how much space you can take up in his mind, in his very being.
Everything in him screams to not let you go. Everything in him, both raw and fresh, curling around his brain screaming at him to do anything in his power to keep you from going out that door. To keep you from leaving him to go see that mutt.
Sure, his inner hybrid normally screams at him like this whenever you have to go anywhere. He doesn’t like you leaving his sight– in fact, it physically pains him to do so. Makes him pace around in his head and outloud, biting on his nails until he knows you are back to him and safe. His.
He just needs a little more time and he’s sure you’ll feel the same way, too. In fact, he knows it. To him, you’re already his mate. So why couldn’t you just let that dumb dog go.
It pisses him off to no end, honestly. Especially the fact you can’t see what he’s doing to you. Trying to control you. To make you think of him and only him and not the hybrid you’re meant to be with.
You’re meant to be with Jimin. He’s sure of it.
So it really doesn’t matter if he does the same. If he effortlessly makes you more reliant on him. If he keeps you dependent on his affection and care. If he slowly weaves himself into the fabric of how you think every single day because you’re meant to be with him. Not Hoseok.
You took him off the streets. You’re his guardian angel. Not Hoseoks. Hoseok was simply… convenient, probably.
Stupid mutt.
He needs to show him how much you mean to each other. How important he is to you.
His eyes light up as an idea floats its way to the front. One that has his inner hybrid howling, his tail wagging, and his cock already growing half hard in his pants.
“I’ll…” He grumbles softly, so soft you can hardly hear him over the racing of your heart. His fingers almost childishly pulling at the bottom of your shirt, thumbs jutting out to rub against the skin of your tummy softly. Just little temperamental circles, nothing more, nothing less. “I’ll come…”
He feels the stiffness in your form, clearly still poised and ready for an argument, visibly deflate from your shoulders as you relax against his chest. One of your hands softly coming up to lace your fingers through his own. Your voice utters out a simple, “Thank you, Min.” while your thumb reaches to stroke over his knuckles.
Soft. Gentle. Caring.
He lets out another long, drawn out whine. His hips pressing closer, his cock rubbing against your barely covered ass.
Why did you have to wear a skirt today? It’s another question on his long list of complaints. One he doubts he’ll ever have an answer to other than the notion that you want to be slutted out to the older hybrid. That you want his cock buried in your cunt instead of the man holding you now.
Whatever. It won’t be Hoseok’s cum dribbling down your thighs anyway.
You gasp at the contact– at the hardness you certainly feel against the plush of your cheeks, “J-Jimin–”
But before you’re even able to get out his full name, you’re already being flipped around. The entire room spinning as you’re pressed back against the couch, a mop of blonde finding itself between your tits as you gasp once again. Attempting to recuperate– to consolidate your once standing form now laying back against the couch, thighs spread as his body makes space between them.
His entire weight rests against you as his head shakes in your cleavage, the pressure making it more difficult to breathe. His breath keening, whimpers leaving his lips as his hips struggle, grinding themselves against the plush of the couch.
“You like him more than me, don’t you?” Jimin starts his sad, floppy dog act once again. The one that he knows tugs against your heart strings, the one that makes it easier to get what he wants from you. Makes you forget about the hand moving up your thigh, the heat of his breath against your cleavage.
“Wh-what?” You quickly breath out, hand that was reaching down to stop his pursuit freezing midair. Brow pinching in confusion as you try to calm the heat rushing to your cheeks, “No I don’t. What are you talking about?”
He only whimpers again. Taking the moment of hesitation to lace his free hand with your own. Pinning you without you realising it fully– not yet, anyways.
“I-I just…” He mopes, pushing your skirt up and over your hips. Panty clad cunt now directly pressed against his lower stomach. The subtle, continuous grind of his hips into the couch cushion causing your hips to rock along with him the same. Moisture gathering against your core as he makes you grind against his pelvis.
“He’s always so territorial over you…” He can’t stop the bite in his tone, the little growl at even the mention of the other male right now, “Doesn’t understand that you’re my bitch.”
It takes a second for you to catch up– it always does when he throws too much at you at the same time. But as soon as you process the fabric of your underwear rubbing against your clit, you soon recognise the ‘bitch’ in his words, no matter how affectionate he always meant it, “Jimin!”
He whines at the mild scolding tone in your voice, letting his ears droop. Letting his tail brush gently against your ankles as he wags it low, submissive. Making him seem even more pathetic than he already is, “It’s true… he’s always all over you. Scenting you. Trying to take you from me…”
“Please… I just need to make you smell like me so he knows…” It’s heavy in his tone still, that same grating whimper that has you wanting to sell your soul and give it to him. “Let me cum inside? Please?”
“J-Jimin…” The hesitation is clear in your voice, yet so is the sticky trail of arousal coating his abs. His shirt slowly being pushed upwards along with his grinds, your panties doing nothing to stop the spread of your arousal as he mewls against the couch, “I don’t– there’s no time and I don't want to be late–”
This time, it’s his gaze that cuts you off. The tilt of his head upwards, eyes brimmed with glassy tears threatening to fall while his cheeks remain flushed pink. His lips parted, saliva collecting at the edges just like he always gets when he’s far too wound up for reason.
You know his act well enough at this point, at least you should.
Knew those puppy-dog eyes he now sends your way, making your heart shrink in on itself. Knew the keening of his throat that always made him seem just so pathetic. Make you just want to give in to anything he wanted with a simple flop of his ears and simpering wag of his tail.
Let him do what he wanted, more so. Because the second you gave in? The second you’d look away shyly and agree to whatever he was acting? A switch would flip behind Jimin’s soft brown eyes. A switch that wouldn’t return to its upright position until he was well and done with you.
That cute, pathetic little dog boy who was just preening for your approval would turn into a wicked thing. Would tread you like a rag doll, like his bitch in heat. Would take you until his cock wouldn’t let him anymore– until he was sure you were knotted up well. Sat pretty on his cock, claiming you the best that he could without biting your neck directly.
You knew his act well, and yet you let him get away with it every single time.
Even when he works himself up past the brink of sanity, forgetting to ask your permission time and time again to start.
Thankfully, Jimin knew how to beg for forgiveness, too.
Cute and sweet when he just couldn’t wait anymore. When he just had to bend you over while you cooked, when he couldn’t wait until you woke up to start licking at your cunt because you just smelled too good. That whine in his voice that had you shushing him instantly, petting at his hair through sleepy mumbles, telling him that it was okay.
Spreading your legs just a bit farther with the press of his hands, opening you up even wider. Licking you clean until you were red and sore and pushing his head away. Only then would he ask for one more, encourage you– make sure you knew you could do it.
You let him get away with too much– you even admit that now as his teeth nip at the top of your breast. At the skin spilling over the top of your shirt while one of his hands finds its way between your bodies, pressing against your pelvis. Giving just a little bit of pressure to your empty core, making you more aware of it than you ever have been before.
You were no match against him. He knew it too.
Knew you like the back of his hand, just like a good alpha should.
“C’mon… C’mon please…” His voice whimpers, head taken back to pressing between your tits. His face pressed between them, shaking his head as if it would will you to not let him go. To just let you give in and give him whatever he wants. “Just the tip… just let me put the tip in so I can cum…”
His hand slips lower, curling under the hem of your panties. Slowly pressing his fingertips against your folds, not giving you any chance to think. To pull away. The pads of his fingers gliding against your slick, whimpers of your own leaving your lips.
He dips two fingers shallowly into your hole, collecting your arousal on his fingertips before he brings them higher. Presses down against your clit as you kick your hips. As your body urges him closer even if your mind still attempts to remain strong against his advances.
“Promise… Promise just the tip– please just let me. Please!” He’s getting impatient, you both know it as those same fingers slip lower. As his ring finger is the first to push itself inside of your leaking hole. Curling as it begins its slow pumps inside, pulling you closer, urging you deeper to just agree so he can make sure Hoseok knows his place.
He was like an angel in carnate, even when he uttered such sinful words that has your cunt clenching around him. Pulling the digit deeper as it adjusts to the slow stretch of his finger. As your hips squirm when he presses his thumb against your clit once more, urging it to let him through as he slowly works his middle finger in alongside the other.
Has you wanting to let him sink his cock inside your heat like it belonged there, like it was never meant to leave the safe haven that was your folds.
“I don’t know…” You hesitate, hardly gasping for air as your spine curls, pressing your body closer to him. His efforts finally successful as he manages to stuff a second finger inside, stretching you. Scissoring your core. Making sure you’re ready to take him because the both of you know you’re already slipping. He doesn’t even really know why you’re still fighting with your cunt clinging to him so tightly, begging for him. “I won’t– I won’t have time to change or shower a-and–”
You try excuses, but they do little to sway him. You don’t even believe the words uttered from your lips as he pulls his hand from your cunt, his back-brain telling him you’re stretched enough. That it’s okay if it hurts just a little. Meanwhile your hands are reaching blindly for his wrist, doing everything in their power to keep his fingers tucked inside without your permission.
If he was in his right mind more, if his head wasn’t so far into outterspace from the idea of fucking you, he may have reacted more to the cute display. Though he has a mission. A single prerogative on his mind as he frame pulls back just enough to tug your panties from your hips. Pull the material down your thighs until it’s far past your ankles. Thrown into some odd corner of the room.
Nope, instead there's nothing more than another high whine in his throat, his strong hands pressing your thighs open further. Palms melting into your soft skin as he takes his rightful place over you. This bulge practically omnipotent as it strains against his pants.
“Please, please, please, please, please.” He begs like it’s a prayer, his tail whipping back and forth behind him in anticipation. Drool at the sight of you, the smell of you consuming him from the inside out as he stares at your splayed form. At your bunched up skirt, at your puffy, dripping cunt. “Just let me, I promise I’ll be good. I promise.”
He’s getting too excited now. He knows it. You know it. But neither of you do a single thing to stop it. You simply can’t when he’s wound this high with adrenaline. When he’s a bit more animal than human, moving off of pure instinct. Off of the drive to consume you whole. When you both get so foggy in the head that you know you can’t say no.
Slowly, you roll your head to the side, baring your neck at him. Your final act of submission as you let Jimin take the reins before he just gets too excited that even he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Voice quiet as you mumble out your concession to the standoff. “Y-you have to be quick.”
A loud whine rings throughout the air, though this time in pure, unadulterated relief. His hands already working on his button and zipper, shoving his boxers down just low enough to free his swollen, straining cock. “Thank you, thank you.”
He’s whimpering again as he hand wraps around his length, fist tight around the base, right where his knot would swell up. A pained groan as he squeezes himself, as you watch dribbles of pre-cum leak from his pink tip.
“Gonna fill you up– make you, make you leak all pretty. He’ll smell my cum on you.” He struggles out, voice high and fervent as his stare flicks between the state of your cunt and your neck still to the side. Still obeying his stake, his claim on your very being. “Know you’re mine. Everyone will. Cause you are. Mine. Filled with my cum. My scent.”
My pups. He wants to add, but he still has to wait for your heat to get that. Human’s heats seem to take forever to come.
Your breath hitches when he finally releases his cock, when he finally lowers his frame over top of yours. His hips slowly dragging himself over the crest of your pelvis, pulling back just far enough to drag the tip of himself over your clit. Smear his cum against your skin, marking you. Keeping you.
His cock feels so heavy against you. So thick and daunting no matter how many times you’ve taken it before. The length too pretty to be fair, nice and straight and flushed as it feels like stone against you. Red hot pressure against your cunt as he taunts you with it. Slides it down to your hole, notching himself right against your as your entrance flutters. Cunt begging, screaming for him to just thrust it inside. Fuck you fully until your lungs breathe in nothing but his air.
“Just the tip.” You force out, your eyes trained on the scene between your thighs. Tone light, airy as a spring breeze as you attempt to keep yourself focused. In the moment. To make sure he doesn’t go too far and you’re not even more late for your gardening appointment than you already know you’re going to be.
“Just the– tip.” He nods his head fervently, agreeing as his gaze is locked on the same sight as you. As he hovers on the precipice, a thrust away from penetrating. Cute little pink walls fluttering around barely any of him. Watching as your entrance attempts to stretch to accommodate for him, as your thighs shake with something greater than need for him to finally snap the band and let himself inside.
“Promise. Promise just the tip. I’ll be good– promise.” His promises are as fine as sand, but you’re too cloudy to even realise it, “‘M gonna be fast, promise. Just need to cum in you. Won’t even knot.”
But even if you wanted to argue, to keep him in check, every piece of sanity you have remaining slips away the second Jimin bullies the first inch of his cock inside of your cunt. Your moans filling the air in tandem as Jimin finally feels whole again, the last bit of his soul re-entering his body whenever he gets to fill you up like this.
“G-Good.” He stutters out, hips unable to stop and give you a moment to adjust as they already begin their thrusts. The first few inches of his cock battering your wall as he fucks ‘just the tip’ inside. “Good mate. Good. So good for me, my perfect human. Mine.”
His head leans down, face tucking itself in your neck as he licks at your skin. Unable to stop himself from mouthing right between your neck and shoulder. Teeth scraping against the skin as you’re all but pliant to him. Fists grabbing at the back of his shirt, trying to pull him closer before pushing him away. His entire being surrounding you, all of his weight pressing into each shallow thrust.
You feel even more out of breath than before with his weight against your chest. His hands kneading your thighs as he holds them down, makes sure they remain open for him as he gets lost in your heat.
“‘S-s’ good!” You manage to slur, though aren’t sure if your voice sounds like words or nothing more than sounds. “Min– c’mon– quick.”
“Just the tip.” He repeats to himself like it’s a reminder. Though it doesn’t stop him from pressing in deeper with every thrust. Just a little bit every time. A little bit more and more and more.
Fucking you open slowly, until you forget all about his promise of it just being the tip. Pushing himself inside, using his muscular hips to his advantage as he breaks you open slowly. His cock fighting where his fingers couldn’t fit, trying to remind himself to train you to take him properly so the stretch doesn’t hurt so much every time. Until half of his length has already disappeared inside of your core.
“Promise. Promise just the tip.” Or maybe he himself doesn’t know what ‘just the tip’ is anymore, maybe he doesn’t even know where you end and he begins. “Fill you up. Make you full.”
He groans loud when he finally bottoms out, when he gives up convincing your body slowly and just forces himself all the way inside. The other half of his cock making home inside of your heat, the skin where his knot wants to inflate practically burning with the need to cum.
Your thighs attempt to close against his grasp, though they are forced to remain in place. Your breath hitching as you gasp, head twisting, hands twitching as you suddenly feel so full. Body attempting to do anything to pull away, to move closer, to do anything against the frame that rocks into you. To get away from the stretch, to pull him closer to fuck it away.
“Min, Min–” You repeat his name, feeling more of his saliva on your neck as he continues to work against it. Leaves love bites where he much rather place a mating mark instead, “Move, gotta move. Please.”
You’re keening, writhing underneath of him when he finally starts the withdrawal of his hips. No more than a couple inches as he pulls back, rutting forward again with a new kind of need he hadn’t held before. His breath coming out in short, rough pants as he works his hips as quickly as he can. Refusing himself the reprieve of pulling out more than he is.
He wants to be consumed by you entirely. Wants you to feel him cum deep. Wants to drip out of you for days.
“Close.” He half-whines, half groans against the column of your throat, seemingly entranced by it. His hips, his desperation working you closer and closer to the edge. Feeling that band in your lower belly tighten up whenever he presses his full weight against your core, whenever you feel the brush of his cock against the too-sensitive spot inside of you. The one that has your walls clinging to him like the world depends on it.
He finally pulls away from your neck, one of his arms propping next to your head as he takes the chance to look down at you. As you finally get the chance to look up at him– to see the fuzzy, almost manic look in his eyes. See the blushed out from of his parted lips, the too-sharp canines that reside right behind them.
“Good human.” He swallows, mouth still salivating from the combined scents of arousal in the air, “Gonna–” He pauses, grunting as he attempts to steady his thrusts again, resuming an actual pace rather than just helplessly rutting into your core, “Gonna fill you up. Make him smell me on you.”
He groans at the mere thought, the look on Hoseok’s face when the older hybrid catches a whiff of him on you. The claim he places right in your cunt, making sure he knows to stay out of it. Makes sure he knows who was there first if he tries to pull you away like he always does.
His hips get sloppy again, imagining Hoseok’s face pissed as he sneaks his hand between your thighs. As he gets the picture of feeding Hoseok his cum right from your center.
You’re Jimin’s bitch.
Thankfully, you’re too far gone to care. Barely hanging on by a thread as your head rolls back against the arm rest of the couch, nails digging into Jimin’s shirt as your walls clamp around him. Falling over the edge at a perfectly angled thrust, a loud moan of his name as your entire body ceases around him.
The leg he isn’t holding down manages to cling around him, your fingernails biting into his back as you press yourself as close to him as you can. Your spine shuttering as it releases waves of flutters down your entire body. Walls clenching, toes curling in a pattern that calls to the most base instincts of the man still fucking into you. His knot catching on your entrance with every thrust as it slowly starts to inflate, slowly tries to keep him locked inside.
You’re burying your face in his neck, chanting words even you can’t decipher as your teeth scrape against his skin. Words foreign, lost on your tongue as you let him use you for his own release, slow shutters following you with every stretch at the base.
“Fuck! Fuck, mate– Good mate, Mine.” He’s groaning, entirely lost himself, “Gonna– gonna make him eat it from you. Gonna watch you drip all over the garden, make him know you’re bred. Bred so good.”
He’s gasping as he finally pulls back before his knot expands to its fullest, before he lets it trap him in your heat. Intent on keeping at least one of his promises it seems. His cum pumping out in thick waves as it coats your walls. As it fills you more than you expect it to every time.
He manages to pull back from your death grip once the first few waves of his release dives down. His body withdrawing, hand coming to rap around his sore, inflated knot. Squeezing it as the remainder of his cock continues to leak weak spurts of cum inside of your walls. His mind dizzy with what to do to make it stick.
He watches in awe as he presses his hips forward, oversensitivity taking over both of you as he pushes as much of his cock inside as he can, fist still firmly squeezing around his knot. Feeling the way some of his cum is pressed deeper inside, watching the way your hips wiggle to get away from the onslaught, but continuing the press and withdraw a few more times until it's too much for even him to take. His spine tingling, a confused simper leaving his lips when your hands come down to press at his hip bones, urging him to stop.
It takes you a few more seconds to recover, trying to urge your breathing into something more standard as your eyes pinched closed, forcing your brain back from the clouds into reality. Trying to recover even though you want to do nothing more than take a nap, maybe climb into a warm bath.
However, in the few seconds you attempt to take to recover, Jimin already seems to have other ideas. With a whine drawn from your lips, he pulls out of you, quickly replacing his cock with as many fingers as your walls will allow. Your eyes peeking open to see what he’s doing. Watching as his frame as it awkwardly shuffles down the length of the couch– the hand around his knot and the hand in your cunt making it more difficult than necessary.
Your face pales at what he does next, yet somehow burning ten shades warmer at the same time. Your jaw dropping open, your eyes splitting open wide as he removes his fingers, buries his nose in your cunt, and inhales.
Smells you.
“Jimin!!” You squeal, knees kicking up, feet already pressing against his shoulders. Ready to tell him off, ignoring the feeling of his cum slipping down your cheeks, no longer having anything to hold it inside.
But before you can get a word in, he’s raising his head up. The most innocent smile on his face, his eyes aglow with happiness, “You smell like me now.”
You freeze, stuttering. Unsure what to do as you open and close your mouth like a fish. Completely floundering between the shifts in his demeanour and the fact he just smelled your cunt!
“You’re… You’re ridiculous.” Is all you can manage to say, feet still against his shoulders watching him with wide eyes.
Well, that is until you catch sight of your phone vibrating against the floor, having fallen somewhere during your descent onto the couch earlier. A call from Hoseok ringing, dying out before you even have the chance to reach for it. Your lockscreen– a picture of Jimin, Hoseok, and you– coming into view. A time of 3:58 staring at your face, along with 5 missed calls from the doberman right against your notification center.
Now, you flounder for an entirely different reason, your body moving before your mind as it rolls– well, falls, really– off of the couch. Cussing, crouching as you pick up your phone, double checking the time once again before shooting a glance over your shoulder at Jimin.
Half an hour late.
“Shit shit shit shit shit,” You mumble to yourself, standing as you scramble towards the mirror by the front door. Attempting to fix your hair while Jimin just stares at you, thinking about how you’re the cutest thing in the world. Watching the little dribbles of white against your thigh as they leak from your cunt.
He leisurely fixes himself up as well, settling on the fact he’s just gonna have to be uncomfortable with his knot in his pants until it releases fully. Shouldn’t take as long as normal, especially ‘cause it’s not buried inside of you. Watches happily, tail wagging as you scramble around the room.
“Underwear!” You urge, maybe ask into the air. You’re already half an hour late. You hate being late. It sends your anxiety running high and makes everything around you spin. “Where did you put my underwear??”
He hums, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Propping his head on your shoulder. Your thighs continuing to shake even though you force them to move– he’ll give you a massage later. “Don’t wear any.”
He says the phrase like it's the simplest solution in the world– like it doesn’t have your mouth gawking at the idea of not wearing anything under your skirt in front of your neighbour, in front of Hoseok.
He’ll definitely know. You won’t be able to hide it from him. Not even in the slightest.
But as your phone rings again, Hoseok’s smiling face settling in as a backdrop, you pale. Your thumb shaking as it slowly answers.
“H-Hoseok! Hey!” You try to sound cheery, but Jimin lets out a quiet giggle. His hand already on your lower back while he guides you to the door, humming. Scooping up your purse in the process.
“(Y/n)?! Are you okay?” The concern in his voice is palpable, and you feel your heart cracking.
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine! I just– I lost track of time.” The excuse is flimsy, all three of you know it. Hoseok makes a sound, considering on the other end of the line. God, you can only imagine his face right now. Even the mere idea of it sends a shutter down your spine.
“Right.” He guffs, “Get here soon then. We don’t want to waste the rest of the daylight.”
“Of course!” You quickly agree, nodding your head even though he can’t see it. Your brain already craving his praise rather than the subtle dismissal in his voice, “We’re already out the door! I promise!”
“Mm. I see you.” You tilt your head up, spotting his stare from Miss Oswald’s front door. His frame leaning against the frame, filling it out. Phone lowering from his ear as he ends the call. Arms crossing in front of his chest, his stare pinning you in place. Practically radiating authority. Radiating the urge to command, to dominate.
You swallow. Between Jimin humming behind you, and the impenetrable stare of Hoseok in front, you feel like a cat before a hurricane. Unknowing of what is coming, only that something is.
Looks like you aren’t wearing any underwear after all.
An hour had ticked by.
A full hour of dealing with– with whatever this was. Hoseok acted completely normal, all smiley and bright while he helped his owner. While Jimin, your sweet, conniving Jimin, acted as if nothing was wrong.
Both of them acted like nothing was wrong, like they couldn’t smell the sin on your skin.
Both of them just happily chatting away in the flowerbeds like they actually liked each other. Like the too sharp smiles they sent each other's way meant nothing instead of a test of patience. Jimin smiling bright as he tilted his head back, laughing along with the sun still planted high in the sky.
It was as if his personality had switched. Jimin, your Jimin, who normally grumbled the entire time at your neighbours’, was the perfect angel. Hoseok did much of the same. Acting like he wasn’t staring at you from the doorway an hour earlier, an all too familiar gaze locked on target while you wobbled like bambi over to him.
It was scarier than anything else, honestly. Having the man act like nothing had occurred. Like everything was all sunshine and rainbows when you knew you were in for some sort of trouble the moment you walked through his threshold. Watched him bristle while a too-wide smile crossed his lips.
It’s a rather horrible thing, the way he slowly made you relax. His sunshine demeanour slowly coaxing you into believing he wasn’t really upset. Like you weren’t really in trouble in the slightest. Like everything was fine and he totally hadn’t noticed the knot still straining in Jimin’s pants or the afterglow of sex still radiating from your skin.
Like he hadn’t been analysing you from under the guise of kindness and sincerity. Trying to figure out if you had really just come into his territory with a waddle in your step and the scent of cum between your legs.
Really, you were an auspicious thing, if nothing else.
Coming into his home, when you were his mate. That you were his bitch. His pup. Whatever you wanted to call it, it didn’t matter. Even if he hadn’t properly confessed to you yet, he knew you both were aware of what you were.
Looks like both of his pups needed more training. He would give it to you. Make sure both of you knew your places in his pack after he got the old broad that adopted him out of the picture.
It was always his plan, anyway. To get rid of her. The moment he first laid eyes on you he knew you were actually the one he was supposed to live with. To take care of. On paper, you would be his owner, of course. But he hoped his late night visits to your room would have convinced you by now of who was truly the owner in this scenario.
Eventually, sooner rather than later he would have finally convinced his owner to move down to Florida for retirement just as she always dreamed about. Eventually, no matter what he had to do, he would find himself under your roof. With you everyday.
Sure, Jimin had thrown a wrench in those plans at first– well, really just made everything take a little bit longer. Made him laugh when the younger dog thought he could manage to extricate Hoseok from your life when you were so carnally intertwined.
At first, he thought about getting rid of Jimin, too. But you just seemed so fond of the blonde boy, he couldn’t find it in himself. Maybe he thought he was a little cute too– always acting dominant. Pretending he could be in the face of someone like him.
It was cute. And Hoseok likes cute. Makes him want to put the golden retriever in his place.
Show him how to actually take care of a human like yourself.
In the end, the decision was made for him in letting you keep your plaything was a simple one. He just knew the responsibility of training that brat would fall onto his shoulders. Knew he needed to teach him some fucking respect for the little stunt he pulled today.
Ah, maybe it’s not your fault. Not really. You’re just a dumb puppy, aren’t you? Can’t help but spread your legs from the mutt when he does nothing more than gives you a simple beg. It’s Jimin’s fault, just like it always is. He can’t really blame you for anything, not ever. You’re his good, sweet girl.
Jimin is the mutt.
He guesses it can’t really be helped. That both of his pets will need to learn to follow their alpha better.
At least now he gets to watch you try to look cute. To try and be coy about the cum that still threatens to leak from you– despite your run to the bathroom the second you got to his house. He assumed you were in there, trying desperately to mop up the mess between your thighs. If Jimin was good for anything, at least it was that. He knows how to fill you up well. Keep it in deep in an attempt to mark his territory.
He sighs, resolved. Though it sounds more like it’s in relief just at the sight of you. Muscular thighs rising himself from his squatted position when he watches you move over to their little group in the flowerbeds, too precarious as you carry a tray of lemonade over to the two individuals enthralled in the job of playing in the dirt.
Another day Hoseok would have joined them, but another day Hoseok also wouldn’t have to show her dumb puppy her place. He didn’t want to get his hands dirty, anyway. He was having more fun watching you.
As he stalks over to your form, he watches you bend over without thinking. Handing both his owner and Jimin a glass, not even considering your skirt raising along with you. At your folds now exposed to the air– exposed to his gaze directly.
It's hard for him to bite back the growl in his throat, though he finds it a lot easier to when he stands behind you. Making sure you’re covered from prying eyes. Looming over you like the decision has already been made for your fate.
It has been. But at least he’ll go easy on you. You don’t deserve the punishment, anyway. Jimin does. And the first step of that correction will be making sure you don’t leave this yard before taking Hoseok’s knot like the good little bitch you are.
He watches as you rise, startling when you feel his presence over you. The hard planes of his form right up against your back, spooking you. You feel nice against him. So cute and small. His teeth itch for the day that they’ll get to sink into your neck formally, the gentle trace of his tongue over them doing nothing to settle the urge.
“Ah!” Your quiet shout before you turn your head, pinching your glare up at him makes him want to coo. To wrap his collar around your neck and make you whimper, “Hoseok!”
He smiles down at you, giving a soft laugh as he pats your head, “Boo.”
“Not nice!” You whine slightly, scolding again. Turning around, poking a single finger against his chest like that would actually do anything. He’s sure whenever you scold Jimin, the boy would be whimpering already. Clinging to your legs for no reason at all other than never wanting you to be mad at him ever.
He wants to roll his eyes at the thought, hazard a glance at the other dog now that your attention is residing solely on Hoseok’s shoulders. But he doesn’t. Not when he much rather keep his focus on you.
“Sorry.” One of his large hands reaches up to wrap around your wrist, the apology thin as air as he dismisses it immediately, “I need help with something inside. Follow me.”
“Oh–” You look behind yourself quickly, spotting Jimin chatting casually away with Miss Oswald. Twisting your head back around to look at Hoseok, take in his unarmed expression. Nothing seems to be off, even if your gut tells you otherwise.
“Yeah! Of course.” You make a vague gesture to the tray under your arm, “I need to put this away, anyway.”
He only hums, a pretty note leaving his lips as he turns the other direction. Your feet following as he tugs you along with him. Long skinny tail wagging as his ears stay pitched up due to their unfortunate docking done by Miss Oswald when he was a pup and she didn’t know any better. The fluffy things moving back and forth to detect any sound.
Butterflies are already tumbling around in your guts at the sight of his back. The muscle that you know sits pretty right underneath the skin, always managing to make you feel like a school girl vying for his attention.
Though, if you really consider it, everything about Hoseok makes you feel that way. His calm, yet assertive actions. The way he tucks you behind him whenever he feels like there may be danger around. The sturdy way he holds your hand, your wrist whenever you two walk together. The way he laughs whenever you do something embarrassing. The crinkle by his eye whenever he wants you to know he’s safe.
Too caught up in all the considerations of Hoseok, you don’t even notice when he veers you off course. When he makes a sharp left away from the back door, instead tugging you to the side of the house. The thin alleyway between the sidewall and the fence, only slightly obscured from view thanks to a vine covered free standing trellis.
Your head tilts as you look up at his back. His tail freezing in place, even though his entire frame remains relaxed. Carefree. The subtle squeeze tighter on your wrist finally prompting you to speak.
“Hobi? What are–” Before you can finish the thought, your back is already pressed against the wall. The tray, once safely seated under your arm, falling to the ground. The clatter too muffled to hear farther out in the yard. Your gasp going unnoticed to the people farther out all the same.
Still, he doesn’t respond. His expression having fallen into an almost bored thing. His smile fallen, eyes simply watching. Waiting.
Entirely unconcerned as he places his hands on your hips, thumb moving down to catch the hem of your skirt. Pulling it up, bunching it around your midsection.
“Hoseok!” You’re already squealing, your hands coming down to the front of the material, attempting to pull it back down. To cover yourself, “S-stop! I’m not wearing any–”
In your frantic movements, you miss the slip of his hand between your thighs. Only startled from your hasty dismissals by the feeling of his thumb between your lips, slipping down from your clit til it rests at the rim of your hole, delicately tracing it like he has all the time in the world.
As far as he’s concerned, he does.
“I know.” His eyes are cold as they watch you, as they pin you down in place, “Think you could come over without me knowing, pup?”
“I-I–” You aren’t sure what to say, not really. Your mind already spinning as you try to process the quick changes in direction. As you try to consolidate the friendly, carefree Hoseok– the one who didn’t seem upset in the slightest– to the one now that spreads Jimin's cum, along with your quickly accumulating slick around between your folds.
“Wh-What are you–” The question is cut off again, unable to get a single word in between his jarring movements and voice. Your head spinning as you try to catch up, though unable to truly find a place.
Does he seriously want to fuck you right here?! In the backyard?!
“I think you know.” He hums, his finger slipping from your folds, instead moving down your thigh. Slowly sliding under your leg, raising it. Hitching it up to give him all the access he needs.
“I-I– No– W-We can’t!” With his other hand, he gathers both of your wrists in one. Unconcerned with your fighting. With your wiggling and your hushed tone of voice. Doing nothing more than sending a pointed glare down at you, one that makes you feel small. Like you’re doing something you’re not supposed to.
“But we are.” He guides your hands down to the hem of your skirt, urging you to grab hold of the material and lift it up. “You’ll hold this for me, won’t you pup?” Though he asks, it sounds more like a question than a demand.
Instantly, your body betrays you and complies. Like it's already been trained despite your brain's pre-disposed hesitance. Fingers grasping the material, slowly allowing him to slide it up until you’re hitching the material high. Cunt spread out for him, just for his viewing pleasure.
“H-Hobi– J-Jimin–” You try to explain urgently, looking up at him with insistence though it seems like his own graze is trained between your legs. At the pink, puffy cunt that wasn’t treated with the proper aftercare you deserve. Wasn’t licked clean with anything to keep the cum inside of you, was just left pretty and used.
“Jimin what?”
“H-He doesn’t like it when we d-do this– w-we should– mm!” He pinches your thigh, a pinned glare raising to your face before it drops, returns back to that same simple face it seems he’s taken to wearing.
“You’re really worried about him right now?” He sighs, his fingers releasing your wrist as they travel down to his pants. As they tug his zipper down, shove the material down with a lazy insistence. “I think you should be more worried about me. Maybe about you.”
One final tug and he manages to get his jeans below his cock. Dark red head springing free, pretty long length practically pulsing with a need to be inside you that he’s kept locked away since you came to his door step with that shy smile on your face.
It’s cute how you can’t help but whine at the sight of him. Really, it is. How your lower lip drops just slightly, your cheeks flaring with an ever deeper shade. How your breath picks up every so slightly. How your hips wiggle in his grasp from the sight of him alone. Makes him want to choke you on it– too bad he doesn’t have the time right now. He’ll have to make this quick.
At least your body knows who it belongs to.
“B-But they–” You swallow, try to control your breathing even though everything in you is screaming just to give in. “We shouldn’t, they could come over here a-and–”
“I guess you should be quiet, then.” His fist wraps around his cock, stroking over it with an appeal that has you whining. You really are no better than Jimin, are you? Just cute and dumb and begging for something to stuff you full.
“I know you’re not good at that pup, but you’ll have to try for me, hm?” He hazards a glance up at you, tilting his head ever so slightly.
And god do you want to give in. Do you want to get on all fours and just present yourself like he knows you want to. Just want to be good for him like he likes, like you always are for him when he comes crawling through your window and just slips himself inside with no complaints from you.
Want to just roll over and give him everything because you never have been able to say no to either of your dogs.
Still, no one can blame you for giving it the old college try.
“Pl-please Hobi— I’m, I’m already sore and—“ You keep trying to make excuses, honest, you do. But Hoseok was hardly listening. “Jimin just fucked me so it’s all messy and—“
“He got you ready for me then.” He simply hums, his hand continuing to run up and down his unfairly long length. Hips canting forward on every stroke of his fist to just tease you with the presence of his head against your cunt. “Got you all stretched out to make my job a little easier. I’ll make sure to tell him he’s a good boy next time I see him.”
“No—“
“Oh? You think he deserves a reward instead?” He keeps cutting you off, not letting you get a single word in. It’s infuriating. All of it is– but it’s hard to think. So hard to do anything when he finally ceases his teasing. When he finally draws his cock between your sore, cum slicked core. Fist slowly dragging himself back and forth between your folds, “I’ll let him clean my knot then. When it’s tucked nice and safe inside of you. That sound better, pup?”
You groan in both annoyance at him and the pleasure staring to overtake you. At your legs becoming shaky, at his hand still holding you up, spreading you open. “Th-thats not what I mea–”
“Then what do you mean?” He stops suddenly, too quickly. His cock pressing up against your hole, eyes facing you. Red swirling in his gaze, “Did you really think you could come into my territory with him all over you?”
His hips jut forward slightly, barely stretching you yet the motion is enough to make you squirm. At the resistance fogging up your brain to ebb back, the glorious softness of submission willing your mind to let it take over instead.
“Seriously.” He scoff, his hips slowly rocking into you, watching as your expression lulls into complacence, “I knew you were a dumb pup when you had a cock in you, but you can’t really be that stupid to think I'd let this–” He motions to your hole, pathetically fluttering around his head, “Slide.”
He rolls his eyes as your hands reach out to press against his hip bones, fingers digging into his skin. In an attempt to draw him closer or push him back, you could hardly decipher yourself. But it seemed like he knew– he always did. He could always read you like an open book.
“Coming into my territory, letting him try to claim you like you aren’t mine.” He sinks further inside, the tip of his cock finally finding home between your pulsing walls. Stretching you ever so slightly as he sinks his weight down onto his heels.“See? I’m already inside. Took me so easy, just like that.”
He grunts, his hips not stopping their smooth glide until he’s fucked himself all the way inside, “But we can’t, huh?” He mocks, a soft smile on his face as he curls his fingers in your hair, forcing your head to look down at where you’re fully stretched out around him. At where your cute little cunt begs for him to move.
“Looks like you want to, to me.” You know he speaks, yet you can hardly hear him. Somewhere along the way– you wish you could pinpoint when– you felt cotton slowly filling your brain. Slowly floated up into the sky when he treated your body like his property rather than his own. When he treated you like his sweet toy, for him to use and for Jimin to chew on only when he allowed it.
It had you feeling mushy inside. Had your breath speeding up into short little pants, your body unable to do anything other than follow his simple, direct command. The only kinds he knew you could take when you were in such a state.
You certainly couldn’t focus now– not that you ever really wanted to. Not when your eyes trained between your legs. Where you could see his hips almost flush against your own, the last inch of his cock twitching as it wished to ram itself inside of you as well.
Your nails dug deeper into his skin as you whine, little crescent moons in their place as your back arched ever so slightly. As your pupils expanded and your eyes became just a little bit too hazy.
“Right.” He nods his head, lilt in his tone, “That’s what I thought.”
The sigh he releases as he slowly pulls back his hips is almost euphoric. The drag of his warm length through your walls sending tingles all the way down to your toes. Your head spinning as he withdraws to the tip before rocking back inside with a lazy regard that has you wanting to yell at him.
“I shouldn’t even be doing this, you know?” He asks, though you’re not really sure if he’s expecting an answer. He surely knows you’re not able to, not when he fills you completely, when he holds your sanity in the palm of his hand, “You don’t even deserve it. Good pups don’t get cock.”
Somewhere, the back of your brain certainly hears those words. Instantly, you’re letting out a pained whine even at the idea he would stop. Your poor little fists clambering up around his neck, drawing him closer as you tuck your face inside, “No, no.”
You’re saying the word for an entirely different reason than before. Your walls drawing him in deeper with every slow roll of his hips, begging him not to leave you. His head rolling up against your g-spot with every single motion, little cries leaving your lips all the same.
“No?” He chaffs with a little exhale from his lungs. His entire demeanour not giving away how good he’s feeling in the slightest, leaving you to flounder in your pleasure alone, “So you’re telling me that even after you’ve been pitiful, coming to my home with a mutts cum leaking from your poor little cunt, I should let you get away with it? Really?”
You don’t know what to say to that, really. A hazardously loud moan being the only thing able to leave your lips as he sends one particularly sharp thrust inside, the sound only muffled by the press of your lips to his throat.
“Really? You can’t even apologise properly to your alpha?” He scoffs, his achingly slow thrusts pausing, “Fine.”
Unable to have any time to process, to think before he’s pulling back his hips– a threat that he’s going to leave you–, you’re already blubbering. A high pitched whine along with the chase of your hips urging him to stay inside. To not leave your desperate little form. “‘M sorry! ‘M sorry! Please!”
He pauses once again, half of his cock outside of you. The hand holding your leg high against your hip leaving little patterns across the skin for support, “For?”
“F-for– um–” You try to think, though it’s so hard. It’s always hard when Hoseok takes control like this. When it feels like he has your mind twisted around a little string, “S-sorry for l-letting Min’s cock in me b-before coming… a-and disrespecting you…”
“Why?” Slowly, he lets his cock sink inside again, and you can’t help but let out a breath of relief.
You swallow, throat dry. Mouth opening and closing as you work for your answer. Eyes practically lighting up when you manage to come to it all on your own. Head pulling away so you can look at his face directly, “Cause I’m your bitch.”
The smile that lights up his face makes you feel all warm inside. Has all your nerves melting in a matter of seconds now that you for sure know he isn’t mad at you, and that you know he doesn’t plan on pulling away anytime soon.
“Good girl.” His praise sends your cunt fluttering in waves, his free hand raising up to pat your hair. Though before you can focus on it too much, his hips begin working inside you again. Bullying your cunt with the sheer length of him alone, with the skillful press of his hips, the slow grind once fully buried, on his own.
“It’s not your fault though, is it?” His breath feels warm against your ear, his head tucking beside your own as he continues to speak. Talks you through everything just like he always does– making you feel high as a kite, but also firmly planting with him. Teetering between two worlds just like you need when your head gets too muddled up with confusing thoughts.
“You’re just my dumb little girl. I like you a little stupid though, so that's okay.” Maybe if the circumstances were different– maybe if you hadn’t been fucked already once today– you would have argued back. Would have done something other than moan and nod your head along to whatever he had to say. “It’s Jimin's fault isn’t it? He just whines like he’s in rut and you’re too sweet to say no.”
He nips the shell of your ear, his arm kicking your leg up slightly, resting it higher up on his forearm. Spreading you out even further for him. Making sure the pleasure-pain from the stretch and overuse combine into something for you to get drunk on.
“It’s too much responsibility for you, isn’t it?” His tone is light again, his hand coming down between your bodies to rub at your poor, neglected clit. His thumb ribbing swift circles into the bundle, your legs wobbling as you whine, “Your cunt is.”
Slowly, his thrusts become sharper. The lazy draw moving into powerful, precise thrusts that you can't manage to do a single thing against. Nothing other than fist at the back of his neck, let your measly claws attempt to sink into his skin, “Just let any mutt slip inside with enough begging. I shouldn’t let you have any control over it, should I?”
He grunts with each thrust, finally letting you hear his pleasure. How you’re making him feel whenever you attempt a pathetic little rut of your hips against his, trying to match his unforgiving pace. “It’s okay, I’ll take good care of it. Make sure your cute little pussy knows who it belongs to. Who it should spread its lips for.”
The change in his pace has you reeling. Has you forgetting every ounce of the outside world. Theres no ‘rest of the backyard’, no Miss Oswald that could walk over and catch you fucking her hyrbid. Nothing but the pressure of Hoseok’s hips rutting against yours and the sound of his low grunts in your ear. “Alpha!”
He groans, the sound vibrating right in your ear, as you accept your place. As you respond to the non-existent question in the air. “Exactly.”
His hips move with purpose now– driving into you over and over again. The movement not daring to pause for even a moment. Completely and utterly consumed. Each and every push in acting as a whip into your core, while every withdrawal acts as though it is moving to keep you in your place. Your whiny hips continue their attempt to keep up with him, to try and match his pace.
The cord inside of you winding tighter and tighter, drawing entirely taught as you try to bite against the skin on his neck. So close and close and close and close and–
“You gonna let Jimin rub up against your ass, pup? He looks like he needs it.” The world freezes around you. His thrusts stopping right when you were on the precipice, his words sending ice down your back as you wind your head back from his shoulder, eyes slowly drifting over to follow Hoseok’s gaze.
Fuck.
Jimin is standing there, right next to the trellis as he stares at the two of you. His mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, pupils blown wide as the flush on his cheeks. His hand wrapped carelessly around his cock– clearly having been caught stroking it himself when he thought Hoseok wasn’t paying attention.
Flushed tip dripping with pre-cum, ears now standing at alert as both of your eyes fall on him. His feet taking one step back, then two–
“Stop.” It’s Hoseok’s voice that makes him freeze in his place, his hand still firmly gripped around his cock. One eyebrow raised as he slowly resumes his motions inside of your cunt, not a care in the world for the pitiful pup who got caught with their hand down their pants. Meanwhile you’re still caught breathless, trying to do anything but flick your gaze between the golden’s face and his leaking cock. So red and pretty and just absolutely desperate.
“I would explain yourself now.” Hoseok’s voice cutting through the air, absolute authority on the edge is what finally tumbles Jimin out of his stupored state. His voice ringing out in high whines, tail wagging low as his ears pin back to the base of his skull.
“It’s not fair!” His voice is the same pitchy, depraved thing as always. His frame quickly rushing towards your paired bodies. Unconcerned for his cock until he saddles up to your side, haphazardly grinding against your leg, already. Pre-cum smearing against the skin, perhaps another attempt at marking you while Hoseok’s cock plugs you up directly.
“I did such a good job! Such a good job at filling you up!” He complains relentlessly, wiggling his frame until he manages to get it behind you with the help of Hoseok manoeuvring you to step out a little from the wall of the house.“A-And you just! Look!”
He whines again, practically pitiful as he shoves your skirt over your ass, your hands having dropped it somewhere along the way. His arms wrapping around your waist, holding you close. His hips starting a solid, jittery grind against the flesh of your ass while you’re just left to catch up with the two bodies now pressed up against you fully.
“It’s not fair! I worked so hard!” He tucks his face into your neck, whimpering, pathetic. Hoseok’s hand finding its way into Jimin’s fluffy blonde locks, pulling sharply to draw his head away from the column of your throat.
“Doesn’t explain why you were watching.” There's a snicker in Hoseok’s voice that has the golden’s cheeks flushing an even brighter shade of red, has his mouth opening and closing as he looks for an excuse.
“B-because!” It looks like Jimin’s going to argue, but your panicked question distracts him from the debate in his heart. The question you found swirling in your mind from the moment Jimin arrived, anxiety clogging your heart as you were brought crashing back down to the earth from the fluffy clouds you once resided in.
“Wh-Where’s–”
It’s Hoseok that answers, already knowing where your concern is sure to lay, “Heard her car pull out awhile ago. Had dinner plans with her friends tonight.” His lips coming down, pressing an all too-gentle kiss to your forehead. The perfect pair to the slow glide of his hips. The thing slowly attempting to inch you back up to the sky, along with the stuttered ruts against your rear.
“That’s how I knew he was coming.” A pointed glance was sent over your shoulder to the blonde behind you, his hips slowly picking up as a small ‘oh’ left your own throat. Your hands slowly relaxing to scratch against Hoseok’s neck once again. As you slowly allowed the pleasure to creep back into your spine.
“How could I not!” Jimin whines, grumbling as he forces his face back into your neck despite the pull against his hair. Maybe liking the pain of it a little bit more than he would ever be willing to admit, “I smelt you all over her! Smelt my cum and her and you!! You’re so mean!”
The doberman chuckles, “Uh huh. Right. You say that like you have any place to, mutt.”
“O-of course I do! You’re fucking my mate!”
“You were getting off to it.” He rolls his eyes, “Are getting off to it.” He corrects with a shrug, his hips picking up from their slow pace as you let out a whimper. Caught in the middle of the two dog hybrids.
Jimin’s hips rock forwards as he lets out a petulant whine, though when his cock slips between your folds to meet the feeling of Hoseok’s cock, he can’t help but keen for an entirely different reason. His entire spine shaking as his head presses against Hoseok’s precise rhythm. As he feels your hole stretch to accommodate the invading length with a desperation he’s never felt in this way.
“See?” You can hear the smirk in Hoseok’s tone, though can’t focus on it. Entirely enamoured with the feeling of Jimin's cock rutting repeatedly between your legs, attempting to match the way Hoseok rolls his own though with an entirely unrefined, uncoordinated demeanour, “Can’t even think with the promise of pussy. Both of you pups are the same.”
You whine, hear Jimin attempt to rebuke it in the background but can’t do much more than that. The heady, spiralling feeling flooding back with so much force you can’t think. Don’t want to. If the drool on your shoulder tells you anything, it’s that your hyrbid is in much the same state.
When Jimin’s hips begin to move with more meaning, more insistence– only then do you gasp. His hips angling in an attempt to push his way inside of your used cunt as well, stretching you ever so slightly in a way that has your entrance burning and your nails digging into Hoseok’s shoulders. A yip in your voice, yet your body obediently staying in place.
A growl from Hoseok stops the motion entirely. A sharp tut on your hip pulling you away as he bares his teeth at the younger hybrid. As he warns him to not even attempt doing such a thing.
And much to your surprise– Jimin’s concession is immediate. The baring of his throat, the small whimper in his voice sounding so loud in your ears.
“No.” The doberman hybrid grumbles, his hips picking up their pace once more. The scrape of his cock along your walls making you forget about the fight you were almost concerned would break out, “Bad dogs don’t get pussy.”
The words are a command, and Jimin knows it. Flashes his neck and whines even more as if to actually say sorry. Doesn’t move closer again until Hoseok slowly eases you back. “You’re lucky I’m even letting you do this much. You don’t deserve it.”
Jimin nods his head quickly in agreement, though you’re not sure if he actually processes the words. His hand pressing his length between your legs again, resuming his grinding like nothing had ever happened in the first place.
This is entirely beyond you– the whole exchange. The apparent battle for dominance fizzling away as Hoseok keeps you in his grasp. As he fucks his cock into you with purpose, with meaning now that he put both of his pets in their place.
“I’ll punish him later, pup. Don’t worry.” He grunts, lips pressed into your hair. Shutters running down his entire spine as he hears the both of you slowly begin to fall apart. To submit to your places within the pack just like he knows you both need to to feel safe. To feel complete.
Both of your moans ringing out loud into the air– Jimin’s desperate as he clings to you. Sweat soaking his brow. Yours angelic, the prettiest thing Hoseok’s ever heard. “You’re both just babbling babies, huh? Don’t know what to do unless someone tells you.”
You’re brought to the precipice all too quickly once again. You’re head shaking in agreement, while Jimin hazards a half-growl that doesn’t really mean anything. Your walls desperately clinging– clamping around Hoseok’s length. Legs shaking every time you feel both Hoseok thrust into your core and Jimin fuck himself between your legs at the same time. All while Hoseok’s knot slowly grows larger. Pulls against you whenever he pulls out, incessant pressure whenever he pops it back inside.
With the two of them working together, it's not a question how you’re brought to the edge so easily. Why you’re already tumbling over the edge even though you know you’re supposed to without Hoseok’s permission. Your vision clouding at the corners in white, a sharp inhale being the last breath you take before your orgasm overwhelms you completely.
Two bodies surrounding you, you press forward into one and lean back into the other. Your hips kicking, stuttering while Jimin attempts to hold them in place. Hoseok’s thrusts becoming jerky in their own right as waves and waves of pleasure drown you.
Distantly, as you continue to ride out your high, you feel something stretch you to the very brim. Heavy coats of white painting your insides as a knot burns against your entrance. Locking him against you, keeping you stuffed full as more and more and more cum floods you. Makes you whimper and try to hold on.
Slowly you drift back down to earth, your lungs attempting to follow in your footsteps as you try to catch your breath. As the fuzz leaves your ears and the sounds of Hoseok’s growls fill them instead.
With shaky muscles and a flushed face, you try to look around. Try to use your limited movement to the best of your ability to see what has him worked up. What has Jimin whimpering like a kicked puppy in an attempt to appease him.
Tilting your head behind you as much as you can muster, you finally see it. Hoseok’s hand wrapped around Jimin’s aching cock, right at the base. Right where Jimin’s knot had attempted to inflate right before Hoseok pulled him away from you. Before Jimin was able to cum even a little bit.
“Don’t deserve it.” He grunts, fist wrapped around tight. Maybe almost painfully– you’re not sure, but Jimin’s tail still seems to be batting at a mile a minute. High and excited as he keens in desperation.
“Sorry! I’m sorry!” Jimin doesn’t know what he’s apologising for, that much is clear. Only that he is and that his hips are bucking into the tight grip rather than away from it. “Please– please, I was so close. So close!”
“You really think you deserve to cum?” You feel Jimin nodding his head, his fluffy hair pressing against yours. It’s unfortunate that Hosoek’s already landed on his decision.“Cute. Too bad.”
His fist finally releases after a traitorously long minute– a loud whine from Jimin signally he had done so. His orgasm completely denied. “What? What! I’ve been good! I deserve to!”
“Funny.” Hoseok snorts, his attention finally returning to your shaky, wrecked form. He can’t do anything but coo at the tired look in your eyes, the way your thighs barely seem to hold you up anymore.
“I-I’ll–!” Jimin is acting before thinking, practically frantic as he gets down on his knees to your side. Assisting Hoseok in lifting your leg higher even though it causes a creaky sound from your lips. “I’ll show you! I deserve it!”
Before you can even manage to get a word out, you feel the softness of Jimin’s tongue against your cunt. The muscle gently licking your hole, where Hoseok has you stretched. Giving it attention that practically sets your nerves on fire, driving you almost into oversensitivity.
You whine at the feeling, your remaining grounded knee practically giving out though Hoseok calms you before you have time to complain. Hand coming up to brush down your hair, lips finding yours to give you a soft peck. “It’s okay. He’s trying to soothe you. The ache. Dog hybrids do it for each other.”
Oh.
You attempt to look between your joined bodies to find the mop of blonde, though are hardly able to as he continues his soft, planned licking. A new found flutter traveling from your core at the attention, the care he provides.
Soon, you feel the same shutters travel down Hoseok’s spine as his licking moves to the part of the knot he can still reach. Lapping oh-so carefully between your two combined bodies, your heart rate beating just a tad bit faster than before as he seems to get lost in the motion. Forgetting the point of what he was doing as he tastes your combined essence.
“Okay, okay.” Hoseok finally grunts out, pushing Jimin’s head away. The dog hybrid coming up with a beaming smile, a combination of saliva and your arousal coating the area around his lips.
“See? I’m good.” He announces, too proud. Hands on his hips, tail beating erratically at his spine. Somehow, you manage to nod your head in agreement. “So I get to cum now?”
Hoseok looks between you– slowly slipping away you– and Jimin, letting out a sigh. “Later. I need to get my omega home now. Into a nice bed while my knot goes down.”
You giggle softly as Jimin visibly deflates, grumbling to himself about something or other your brain couldn’t seem to deem as important. All you could figure out was the heaviness in your limbs and the urge to cuddle nagging at the back of your skull.
“‘T’s okay Min, cuddle now. Please?” Your voice is scratchy as you ask, “Did a good job cleaning, so– so I’ll help later. After cuddles.”
Though Jimin’s ears perk, he keeps his down trodden demeanour. Following obediently behind as Hoseok lifts you up fully, making sure to keep his knot securely inside so it doesn’t tug on your poor hole.
The walk back to your house is a blur, along with how you managed to get into your own bed changed into Jimin’s clothes. Your mind only half alert as you settle into the covers, both dog boys tucked around you securely. Keeping you safe. Keeping you loved. Keeping you warm.
Well, until the illusion of peace is startled when Jimin sits up, a new argument clearly fresh on his tongue, “My! Omega!”
Hoseok, sleepy as ever– hardly still conscious with his face tucked into your hair, teeth absentmindedly gnawing against your neck. “What?”
“You said my omega! But she’s mine!”
He only laughs, tutting softly as he laces his fingers in Jimin’s hair, pulling him down. Forcing his face into the other side of your neck. Where Jimin’s mate mark would go when you eventually let you.
“Our Omega.”
Jimin grumbles, “Fine.” There's a few seconds of silence settling over you three once again, the feeling of their nibbling bites leaving marks against your skin drawing you closer and closer to falling asleep. “But I had her last.”
You groan, pushing your face deeper into Hoseok’s chest. The older hybrid just chuckling, clearly more playful than dominant at the moment. Baiting Jimin even further, “I had her first, though.”
And before you know it, a pillow is whipped around from behind your back, hitting Hoseok square on the side of the head.
Well, if you thought having one dog hybrid as a roommate was difficult, good luck living with two.
❆ : Ctrl the Cold 2025 M.List
₊˚⊹ 𐂯┊: notes: I just love hybrid fics man what can I say, they're straight dopamine to the veins. in fact, this fic was supposed to include 3 scenes, but by the time 2 were finished and I found myself at almost 15k I said 'Lily you gotta wrap it up' LMAO!!
I hope you enjoyed, and please let me know any thoughts you may have about this fic, or any others I have posted!! I love to yap and talk about characters/ write drabbles for them! Have a great day and see you next friday for the next fic in the event <33
you lay there on the bed, your mouth parted in a cry that never really ended and the vibe inside you still hummed faintly or you didn’t know if you were imagining it.
were you? your mind couldn’t catch up to the on and off of pleasure.
you were still confused.
your thighs clenched as your body ached from the endless edging he'd put you through in the past hour.
you stared at him with a pitiful look on your face, your thighs still spread as he stood up slowly.
he rolls his shoulders like he's shrugging off the tension and then just randomly grabs a cigarette, lighting it calmly as if it were something normal.
as if he didn’t have you seconds away from an orgasm and now he was pretending like nothing just happened.
the candlelight illuminates his face, his jaw clenched but his eyes held something amused.
he exhales smoke, almost looking like an animal ready to pounce at you and he looked like it was taking every ounce of his restraint to hold himself back.
“where are you going?”
your voice cracks.
he doesn’t look back at you because if he did, he’d give in.
he wanted to make you suffer like he did.
he wanted you to feel what it feels like to deny yourself something that has been tempting you for days slowly.
how it feels to starve when the meal is right there.
“to smoke or take a shower, maybe jerk off in the guest bathroom before i break something.” he replies roughly.
“you wanted to play games tonight baby so let’s play.”
he was really doing it.
really fucking doing it.
he was about to walk away leaving you like this, a trembling desperate mess on the bed with rose petals scattered around you like some cruel romantic joke.
while the vibrator was still inside you, stretching you open which he’d turned off minutes ago because he could.
yes, he could.
as if it wasn’t your body anymore that he could control it however he wanted to and that’s what he’s been doing in the past week.
your heart pounded loudly and all your thoughts drowned out except the emptiness in your pussy.
you don’t know what possessed you suddenly, maybe it was the days of sexual frustration and the way he'd teased you continuously.
it was building up and threatened to burst any moment now.
probably it’s the sight of him looking like a sex demon with his loosened tie, sleeves rolled up with veins visible and so obviously having a soaked boner in his pants that you’ve ground against minutes ago.
whatever it was, it snaps something inside you as you sit up almost furiously.
his back faces you and as he starts taking steps toward the door, you don’t even think before your shyness or hesitation can come back in.
you're moving.
you didn’t even recognize yourself because it was so unlike you.
you launch off the bed as your hand shoots out to grab the collar of his shirt, fingers twisting hard enough for him to turn around.
your sudden yank catches him off guard as his cigarette drops to the floor and he stumbles towards you, his eyes widening in genuine shock.
you were never one to initiate intimacy and he was struggling to catch up with this new sight of you.
this boldness.
because this was what he wanted—to push you and push you until you let out the real rawness inside you.
fuck he was a dead man.
you don’t stop.
you slam into him hard enough that your nails scrape over his exposed chest and he falls back onto the bed.
“shitt.” he grunts.
you don’t even let him think before you climb over him, straddling his hips completely naked, your nipples hard and tight from all his earlier torment.
you felt lewd and obscene but you didn't care.
the shock vanished from his face, now replaced with feral hunger.
he's staring at you like he's never seen you before like you've finally broken something open between you both.
and there's no going back.
your hand fisted his hair, pulling it loose from his manbun and harshly yanking his head towards you so you can crash your mouth against his.
the kiss is messy and angry.
it was all tongue and teeth until it felt like both of you were one.
you bite his lower lip hard enough to taste blood and he hisses, hands flying to your waist gripping you tight and kissing you back with equal fervor.
he sucks and bites on your tongue to take his sweet little revenge but you weren’t someone to back off as you eat at his mouth.
he turned you into this so he better deal with it.
and he lived for this shit.
he loved his woman taking what she wants from him.
you suddenly rip at his shirt, causing buttons to fly and the fabric to tear until his chest was fully bare.
you rake your nails down his chest and abs leaving red marks.
putting your marks on him.
the pain makes him groan low in his throat as he gropes your ass cheek pulling you to him harder causing your cunt to brush against his bulge.
he growls again as he feels how much you're burning and dripping at the same time.
his hair has finally come undone from the manbun and you tangle your fingers deeper there, holding him exactly where you want him.
you pull away when you can’t keep up anymore and breathe like you’ve run miles, your chest heaving as your pussy clenches around the dead vibe still inside you.
tears of pure frustration well at your eyes as you pull back just enough to glare down at him.
“you’re all bark and no bite, jeon jungkook.” you spat
your voice shakes with rage and need.
it was nothing like the shy whispers he's used to from you.
“a weak fucking man. you’ve been pushing me for days making me beg, making me crazy and now you’re going to walk away? you know what? fine.”
your lips curl in a mocking way.
“i’ll go find someone who’ll actually fuck me and who doesn’t play games.”
jungkook's eyes darken instantly, the playful smirk gone from his face as his jaw clenches so hard that you can see the muscle jump.
“what the fuck did you just say?”
he surges up one hand shooting to your throat, not squeezing or choking you just holding, thumb pressing against your racing pulse as you gasp.
it wasn’t meant to scare you but to show you who you belonged to.
and for a fact the action itself made you hornier, if that was even possible as you stare at him with dazed eyes because this is what you wanted.
wanted him to have his way with you and not hold back.
his other hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back sharply and you let out an almost pornographic moan at the feeling.
“say that again.” he snarls.
“go on, i dare you to say that you’re gonna let another man touch you one more fucking time.”
you bare your teeth, your breasts bouncing with all your excited breaths.
“maybe i will. maybe i’ll even let him take me in the ass. the way you keep promising and never do it, he will probably even do a better job—”
in one brutal surge he sits up, cutting off your words and flips you beneath him, manhandling you like you weigh nothing.
he pins both of your wrists above your head with one hand.
your words make him see red.
he will kill any man with his bare hands even if he breathes in your direction.
forget letting him touch you.
jungkook would take his life slowly and he'd make you watch.
that's it.
he was done being gentle and tonight he was going to show you how hard he can make you regret it.
“you think you can say that shit to me? watch your fucking mouth y/n.”
his hand guides your palm against his slacks as his hips buck up hard, letting you feel what you do to him and how hard he was for you.
“you’ve been pushing me baby. grinding on my office table like a desperate little girl, sending me videos of that pretty pussy while i'm in meetings and now you wanna act like a brat?”
he shoves you back slightly just enough to stand up from the bed, towering over you as his hands go to his belt.
the clink of metal loud in the silence.
the noise makes you grip the sheets with anticipation as you bite your lower lip.
he undoes it with angry movements and shoves his pants and boxers off in one go.
his thick cock springs free, slapping against his stomach.
it looked so intimidating and big like this, bobbing heavily between his thighs.
even now you wondered how he'd ever fit inside you.
he fists the base of his length, stroking it with his eyes locked onto yours fiercely.
“open your mouth.” he orders.
you glare at him, still wanting to see what he’d do about it
wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine.
he leans down until his lips brushes your ear.
“open that little fucking mouth before i make you sweetheart.”
you're still trembling with adrenaline and you cannot deny yourself what you so badly need so you obey instantly.
your body on autopilot for him.
your lips part and tongue out, waiting for him.
he steps closer as the head of his cock brushes your bottom lip, smearing precum there.
“you wanna call me weak? then i'll show you what i can do. you will let me won't you? hmm you want my cock that bad?”
his nostrils flare.
he grips your cheek, tipping your head up.
he gives your head a loving stroke as his cock was just an inch from your lips and you eye it like it’s the sweetest candy.
“you really want it rough tonight angel?”
you nod frantically against his palm, tears still leaking and he grins.
“say it.”
“i want it rough p—please.” you rasp.
“i want you to fuck me like you hate me. like you’ve wanted to break me for weeks.”
you rush out shamelessly.
you’ve never sounded more confident and surer as his eyes blacken impossibly.
goddamn.
he couldn’t believe this was his sweet innocent wife, the same girl who once ran away from him and asked him to teach her how to give him head so innocently...
he was speechless for a moment.
“do you remember the safe word?” he demands
“red.” you breathe.
“louder.”
“red!” you sobbed impatiently.
“atta girl…”
he smiles slowly, almost terrifyingly and it makes your thighs squeeze together for what's about to come next.
“now get on your knees. we’re just getting started.”
both of you knew the night wouldn't end anytime soon.
a/n: i’m REALLY sorry for keeping y’all waiting for so long but here’s the sneak peek like i promised (the real fun stuff is still in the main chapter ehehe 😈) i’ve been writing this very big chapter for y’all and i’m almost done!!! i will try to upload the full chapter within a week, i'll let y’all know, love you babes and thank you so much for your patience <33
Genre: fantasy!au, demon!au, haunted apartment, horror (its not too bad bc im a coward guys), slow burn, forced proximity, supernatural romance, angst.
Summary: Jungkook is trapped in an attic, cursed to win affection from those who fear him most. Every tenant has fled until you move in. With your budget and patience on the line, you refuse to leave. Now you’re stuck sharing a space with a creature no priest, shaman, or exorcist can get rid of, and neither of you can escape.
You could feel the sunlight shining on your face through the thin curtains. It felt warm enough that you moved towards the sunlight without thinking, and your face has now turned towards the window.
For a moment, you didn’t remember where you were. You looked up at the ceiling, it was white and faintly cracked, and the memory settled back into place. The studio, your new home.
You laid there longer than usual, listening for something, or someone to be exact. There was the sound of the refrigerator from the kitchen. Somewhere downstairs, a door opened and closed softly, you guessed it was probably Taehyung who just finished his morning run. You could hear a car passing outside too. It was all ordinary sounds, mundane enough that your chest loosened.
Nothing felt wrong.
That was what startled you.
You woke up half expecting something, anything, to feel off. But the room just felt empty like a space meant for one person and currently occupied by only you and nothing else.
You sat up fully, the blankets slipping down to your waist. And still nothing. It didn’t feel chilly. And there was no presence and no sense of Jungkook in the air.
Your heart stuttered, just once. Still, as you swung your legs off the bed and stood, you hesitated. The floors creaked beneath your feet in the quiet room. You waited instinctively for something, someone to answer the sound of you waking up.
Nothing did.
You exhaled slowly.
Maybe, just maybe, the curse had broken. You still don’t know to this day how or what exactly the curse is, so maybe something happened in the other world and now the curse has been lifted.
Maybe whatever had lingered here for decades or centuries, has finally moved on. Maybe last night was the end of it.
You walked into the kitchen, started the kettle, as the kettle heated, you leaned against the counter and let yourself take another look around again. The studio looked lived in now. Your books lined the shelves, and your coat hung from the hook near the door.
It felt like yours.
You didn’t realise how tense you have been until that tension began to drain.
Maybe Jungkook left.
Maybe whatever haunted this place has finally grown bored.
The kettle clicked off.
You flinched, then laughed quietly at yourself, shaking your head as you poured the water. You sipped your coffee and checked the time, you thankfully still have plenty of it. And for the first time since moving in, you weren’t rushing.
You ate your breakfast slowly, scrolling through messages from Hoseok complaining about a parent email and Namjoon reminding you about an upcoming staff meeting. You replied with half hearted jokes, feeling lighter than you have felt in days.
If this was what living here would be like, quiet mornings, the sunlight shining at the right corners, no fear curling in your stomach, then maybe you were worried for nothing.
You stood up to pack your lunch, singing under your breath.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Behind you, unseen, Jungkook watched.
He stood near the window, arms folded loosely across his chest, his presence pulled inward so tightly that even the air in the room did not react to him.
Jungkook learned how to do this long ago.
In Kratos, stillness was power.
He watched you move through the room, the way you paused to reread a message on your phone, the slight furrow of your brow as you checked your bag, and the way you pushed hair out of your face, only for it to fall back seconds later.
Jungkook felt no push to reveal himself, no irritation strong enough to spark his presence into something tangible. And today, he just didn’t want to be noticed.
In Kratos, he never needed to decide. No one dared to intrude on Jungkook’s space unless summoned. Even other demons tread carefully near his door, aware that crossing his space uninvited was an invitation to die.
There, silence has always been his by right.
On earth, Jungkook had to earn it.
Jungkook turned his gaze towards the window, the pale blue sky stretching beyond it. He remembered the skies of Kratos, heavy with smoke and ash. He remembered standing on the balcony of the Jeon citadel, looking down at the city below, feeling the weight of thousands of eyes on him without ever seeing them.
They have always known when Jungkook was present, even when he did nothing at all.
Jungkook’s name alone bent the air.
And yet here, you felt nothing.
Jungkook watched you pack your lunch, seal the container, and put it neatly into your bag. You did not look over your shoulder once.
For a brief moment, Jungkook wondered what it would be like to remain like this always. To exist without exerting himself. To be a shadow among shadows, unnoticed and unfeared.
The thought made him remember his room in Kratos.
The one place where even power did not intrude unless invited where the walls were thick enough to muffle the screams from below and the heat from the ground reminding him of where he belonged.
No one had dared disturb Jungkook there.
Not his brother, not the court, not even his father, unless the matter was dire.
Jungkook couldn’t believe his fate here, trapped in a room smaller than the bathing chambers of the citadel, watching a human woman debate whether she had imagined him at all.
You frowned slightly at your reflection in the mirror, then shrugged, adjusting your jacket. You reached for your keys and stopped as your hand hovered near the door. For half a second, your gaze drifted, not to him, but to the space near the window, your lips parted as if you were about to say something, then it closed again.
You shook your head softly, “Get it together,” you muttered to yourself.
Jungkook watched you leave as the door closed with an almost silent click, and the room settled back into a different kind of quietness, only then did Jungkook let himself breathe.
He was alone again.
He moved to the center of the room and looked around, seeing it as it was now altered by you. The room he’s caged in has been marked by a human life, by you who has lasted for weeks. This place was no longer just a cell for Jungkook.
The afternoon felt different without you in it, as if the space itself has lost its sense of direction. Jungkook allowed himself to fully exist again once the door closed behind you, his presence was no longer restrained.
This room has always adapted to him quickly, even before you, and now it adjusted once more, remembering what it was to be occupied by something that did not belong to the human world.
He moved through the space slowly, out of habit, the same way he once walked the corridors of the Jeon citadel, unhurried and unchallenged. There was no need to hurry when nothing could question his presence.
Jungkook’s attention was drawn first to the small bookshelf you’ve set up in the studio, he examined the spines without touching them. These were not books collected for status or appearance. Many of them had been read more than once, and Jungkook could imagine you returning to the same stories because you sought comfort in them.
In Kratos, knowledge was power. Books weren’t something you could get so easily, it was always guarded and only certain demons could get their hands on it. Jungkook read books too, but for completely different reasons.
In this room you left your knowledge open, stacked neatly on shelves, inviting anyone who stepped into the room to see exactly what shaped you. Jungkook picked up one of the thinner books, turning it over slowly, noting the way the spine loosened easily as he turned the pages over. Jungkook could tell that you have read this book often. When he set it back, he placed it exactly where it was, unwilling to disturb the order you’ve built purposefully.
Your desk told Jungkook more about you than the bookshelf ever could. Pens were grouped by how often they were used, sticky notes on the edges of notebooks and when he opened one of the notebooks, he found lesson plans with observations of your students. You noted who struggled quietly, who needed reassurance, who needed a push in socializing.
Jungkook turned his attention to the photographs on the wall, studying them with the same focus he had for political gatherings and court assemblies. In the image of you and your acquaintances, there was no tension in your posture, you smiled openly, trusting the people beside you in a way that would have been considered recklessness in Kratos. Trust there was always conditional and always paid for eventually.
Jungkook stood near the window again, looking out over the street, comparing the life unfolding below to the one he left behind.
In Kratos, existence was defined by dominance, survival was measured by how many others feared you enough to kneel. Silence there was earned through violence, privacy was only granted to those powerful enough to enforce it.
When Jungkook returned to the center of the studio and sat against the wall, it was not boredom that filled his thoughts.
It was curiosity.
Fear was what sustained him here, but you did not offer him fear. You offered him your voice and your willingness to remain. And in that, Jungkook understood something unsettling: if affection was to be earned, then you, who chose not to run, were already within his reach.
You are Jungkook’s way out of this wretched place.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
You came home around 6 PM, right after the meeting finished. It had been a long fucking day, but thankfully, Namjoon agreed to drop you off.
You greeted your housemates, talked with them for a little bit before finally going up to your studio. By the time you reached the top of the stairs, you were so tired you pushed open the door to the studio without thinking.
You were so tired you forgot you have a demon as a roommate.
For a fraction of a second, your brain refused to process what your eyes were seeing. The lights were off, the room was lit by the fading daylight slipping through the window, and there, on the small sofa, someone was sitting.
Jungkook occupied the sofa as if it was his. His long legs stretched out, one arm resting along the back of the sofa close enough for you to finally notice his tattooed sleeve, and his dark hair falling loose around a face you recognized immediately despite having only seen it clearly a few times.
Jungkook’s presence filled the room in a way that made the air feel heavier and colder. Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, you could feel your heart beating against your ribs as your grip tightened around the strap of your bag.
Jungkook finally looked at you and something about his expression shifted.
His lips curved upward slowly, and god it was a strange smile. Calling his smile unsettling wouldn’t even describe it.
But you now know that Jungkook has decided on something, and whether it would be good or bad for you, will not be in your control.
“So,” he said calmly, “teach me about your kind, teach me about humans.”
The words hit you harder than his appearance ever could have.
You stared at him, your thoughts were scattered as you searched his face for something, hostility, mockery, or boredom, but found none of it.
“What?” you finally replied, the word coming out quieter than you intended as you shifted your bag off your shoulder, “What is happening? This morning, you weren’t here. I didn’t feel anything. I thought maybe you left, or that whatever this is, whatever you are, ended. And now you’re sitting on my sofa asking me to teach you about humans?”
You let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh before asking him, “Why do you suddenly want to know?”
Jungkook didn’t interrupt you, didn’t move as you continued to speak, “And haven’t you been here for hundreds of years?” you added, “You’ve watched people come and go, you’ve scared them out of this room, and you’ve seen how humans react to you. Don’t you already know us by now?”
You stood there, your heart was still racing, whatever you expected from him, this wasn’t it.
Jungkook tilted his head slightly at that, “I never left, I was here all along. I just chose to not be seen by you, and I know how humans fear,” he said after a moment, “I know how they run, how they pray, and how to break them into pieces. I have known that for a very long time.”
He leaned forward slightly, his forearms resting against his thighs, “What I have seen for centuries is not the same as understanding,” Jungkook said, “and you are different from the others, you’re still here.”
“So,” he repeated, “teach me.”
You stayed standing for a moment longer, not because you were afraid to move, but because your body hasn't quite caught up with the direction the conversation has taken. Of all the things you imagined he might say like threats or warnings, asking you to teach him about humans never even crossed your mind.
“Okay,” you said slowly, you glanced at the sofa, then at him, hesitating before saying, “but you’re sitting in my spot.”
Jungkook blinked, genuinely caught off guard. His gaze dropped briefly to the sofa beneath him, as if the idea that space could be owned has never occurred to him. After a few seconds, he shifted, moving to the far end and leaving you more room than necessary. You couldn’t help but notice how slightly awkward his gesture was.
You watched him for a second, then shook your head. You couldn’t believe you’re about to be sitting on your sofa, next to a demon from Kratos, wherever that is.
Was this conversation part of his plan to make sure you don’t fear him? You couldn’t help but wonder why he wanted this to happen, but this is your chance to get to know more of him, or his curse, to be precise.
“Right. This is already strange,” you murmured, walking over and sitting down anyway, leaving a distance between you and the demon, “So, humans.”
You leaned back, folding your arms against your chest, looking at the TV in front of you and not the demon next to you, “I don’t know what you expect me to say. We’re not one thing. We’re messy, full of contradictions. We do things that don’t make sense even to ourselves most of the time.”
“That is already apparent,” Jungkook replied, his eyes following the movement of your shaky hands as you spoke.
You huffed, not knowing where this sudden bravery to speak up against a demon came from, “See? That tone right there, that’s not helping,” you quickly glanced at him before turning your head back to the TV, “you said you know how humans fear. Fear is easy to understand, it’s obvious. But that’s not what most of life is made of. Our lives are full of routines. We wake up, complain about being tired, drink too much coffee, and still do the things we’re supposed to do even when we don’t want to because if we don’t, everything falls apart a little bit.”
Jungkook listened without interrupting, you could feel his eyes on you which made you strangely self-conscious, like you were explaining something deeply personal.
“And we care,” you continued, “about small things, like people who might not even notice the effort we put in,” you glanced at him again, “and yes, caring doesn’t give you power but it makes life worth living.”
“Power is derived from fear,” Jungkook responded.
You smiled faintly, “Yeah. For you. For us, fear just makes everything smaller,” you tapped your fingers against your knee, “we build our lives around what makes us feel safe to exist without constantly looking over our shoulders. We get anxious, we overthink. We pretend things are fine when they aren’t. Sometimes we run, sometimes we stay. And staying doesn’t always mean we’re fearless, sometimes it just means leaving would cost us more.”
That seemed to catch his attention. His posture shifted subtly, “You stayed,” he stated.
“I did,” you agreed, “And no, before you ask, it’s not because I’m secretly fearless or special,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the thought of being special, “It’s because the rent was cheap, the commute was short, and I was tired of my life feeling like it was on hold. Humans make decisions like that all the time.”
His lips twitched, “You chose inconvenience over fear.”
You paused, then tilted your head slightly to take a quick glance at him, “Can I ask you something?”
Jungkook nodded once in return.
“You said you’ve watched humans for centuries. What did you think of us before you were here?”
“Fragile,” Jungkook replied without even taking a second to think about the answer.
You winced, “Ouch.”
“It was simply based on what I saw,” he added as if he wanted you to know he wasn’t trying to insult you.
You shrugged before replying, “Fair. But you were only watching us at our worst. You don’t see humans when they’re comfortable or trying to decide what to eat for dinner for 45 minutes and getting annoyed at themselves about it.”
His eyes flicked back to you, “That happens?”
“All the time,” you laughed, “we argue with ourselves over the dumbest things, we procrastinate even when we know it’ll make us more stressed later, we hold grudges longer than we should, and we fall in love with people who are terrible for us and stay because leaving feels like failure. We are so much more complicated than just fear and being fragile.”
You glanced around the room again, then back at Jungkook who was still staring at you, “Humans aren’t built for eternity. Everything we do has an expiration date, and I think that’s why we’re so attached to things, people, and memories.”
Jungkook leaned back slightly, his wings shifting just enough to remind you they were there, even if they weren’t touching anything, “You have an inefficient life,” he said slowly.
You laughed out loud this time, the sound surprising both of you, “Yeah,” you agreed, quickly shutting up before somehow offending the freaking demon, “It really is.”
“Continue,” he demanded quietly.
You looked at him and realized that this might be the first time in centuries anyone has spoken to him like this.
“Well,” you said, settling more comfortably into the sofa, acknowledging that your fear has somehow lessened, “lesson one is done, now lesson two involves snacks.”
He raised his eyebrows, “Snacks?”
“Trust me,” you responded, “this is important.”
You watched him for a second after declaring the importance of snacks, waiting for the inevitable confusion to set in. It didn’t disappoint you. Jungkook’s gaze was flicking from your face to the kitchen, to you again, as if expecting something to move on its own.
“Have you ever eaten? Do you eat?” you asked him cautiously.
He stared back at you, clearly surprised by it, “I do not experience hunger on this planet,” he replied, “my form here is always maintained.”
“Ahh,” you mouthed while nodding, “okay, but that doesn’t mean you can’t eat,” you reasoned, “just that you don’t need to, right?”
“Correct,” he replied.
You returned a moment later from the kitchen, holding a packet of Oreos, “This,” you announced, “is an Oreo, it’s a very original human experience.”
His eyes narrowed at the package, suspicion written plainly across his face, “It appears to be artificially constructed.”
“Wow, okay, rude,” you said, though you were smiling as you twisted the packet open, “just try it. Worst case scenario, you hate it. Best case, you discover one of humanity’s greatest achievements.”
You handed him one cookie carefully, half expecting it to pass straight through his fingers. It didn’t. He held it between two fingers, turning it slowly, examining the edges, the stamped pattern, and the visible cream layer in the middle.
“There are two parts,” Jungkook observed.
“Yes. Debate exists about whether you should twist it apart or eat it whole,” you said seriously, “this debate has ended friendships.”
That earned you a skeptical look, but he followed your lead, twisting the cookie. He stared at the cream, then at the plain cookie half.
“This is excessive,” Jungkook said.
“Just eat it,” you laughed.
He hesitated, then took a careful bite of one half. The reaction was immediate, his expression went blank, then subtly displeased, his jaw munching the oreo slowly as he processed the taste, “It’s sweet,” he said, “and dry.”
“That’s fair. Now, eat the cream part with the other half,” you instructed, like this was a sacred Earth knowledge.
He did, more reluctantly this time, chewing slowly again. You watched his face closely, biting back a grin as his expression shifted, “This is strange,” he admitted, “but not unpleasant.”
You beamed in excitement, “He likes it.”
“I did not say that,” he corrected, but he took another bite anyway, this time without hesitation.
You leaned back on the couch, satisfied with yourself, “See? Humans make weird things, but sometimes weird is good. You are welcome to eat the stuff in my kitchen. I wouldn’t mind,” you said while eating another oreo.
He didn’t respond but finished the cookie in silence. After a brief hesitation, he reached out and took another Oreo from the packet himself. You pretended not to notice the victory.
“Can I ask something else?” you asked.
He tilted his head before answering, “You may.”
“Are there really humans in Hell?”
You watched him quietly for a moment, sensing the shift that the conversation was getting too close to topics he didn’t fully want to talk about. So you softened your tone, gently circling back to your curiosity, “are there humans in Hell at all?”
Jungkook’s fingers paused against the third Oreo before simply answering, “There are two places. Kratos, and the below.”
You nodded, this was what Father Gabriel briefly told you.
“Kratos is for demons,” he continued, “the below is where the humans exist.”
“So humans don’t live in Kratos?” you asked him.
“No,” Jungkook replied without hesitation, “humans wouldn’t survive there long enough. Kratos belongs to demons.”
You nodded slowly, absorbing that information, but curiosity tugged at you again, “So does Kratos have someone governing it?” you asked.
Jungkook stiffened almost immediately. His gaze shifted away from you, and the air around him was tightening just enough for you to notice, “This is meant to be lessons about humans,” he said after a moment.
You blinked, then smiled faintly, “Okay, but think of it like this,” you said, trying to convince him, “a knowledge for a knowledge, bartering or trading. Very human of me, actually.”
He tilted his head slowly, dark eyes lifting to meet yours, for half a second, your instinct screamed at you to look away. But before you could, he finally opened his mouth.
“Yes,” Jungkook said, “Kratos is divided into four territories, each ruled by its own citadel,” he paused, then added, “I come from the Jeon citadel in the north.”
You nodded, careful not to ask anything else, even though your mind immediately filled with questions you knew better than to ask. Whatever Kratos truly was to him, it wasn’t something he was ready to unpack here, on your sofa, between Oreos and unfinished lessons about humans.
Still, one question lingered, “Why do humans end up in Hell?” you asked quietly.
This time, he didn’t hesitate, “Most often,” Jungkook said, “humans who kill others.”
Your stomach dipped, “So how about lying?” you asked, “does that get you sent there?”
He scoffed softly, almost amused at your question, “If lying alone condemned a soul, the below would be overflowing.”
“You enter Hell when you have harmed others,” he continued, “emotionally or physically, and how long you remain there depends on the weight of your sin.”
You frowned slightly, “So it’s not permanent?”
“No,” he said, “punishment is measured, especially in Hell.”
“Well,” you said lightly after a moment, “that’s comforting in a deeply unsettling way.”
“And now,” he said, glancing at you again, “you still owe me the rest of my lesson.”
You smiled, shaking your head, “Fine. Next topic: why humans talk too much when they’re nervous.”
His eyebrows lifted as he bit another piece of oreo, “You are doing that now.”
“Rude,” you responded, but you were smiling anyway.
“Humans talk,” you began, “because silence makes us uncomfortable. When there’s silence, we start filling it with thoughts, and thoughts usually lead to overthinking. So we talk to distract ourselves, or to connect, or sometimes just to hear another voice so we don’t feel alone.”
“You speak to avoid being alone,” Jungkook concluded.
“Yeah,” you admitted, “even when we’re surrounded by people, we still do it. Humans are social creatures. Isolation messes with us.”
“That is inefficient," he said again.
“Very,” you agreed, “but it’s how we survive.”
“And what about love?” he asked.
The question caught you off guard.
You blinked, then laughed softly, not because it was funny, but because it was so unexpected coming from him, “That’s a big jump.”
You leaned back against the arm of the sofa, eyes drifting to the ceiling. Teaching Jungkook about humans felt strangely formal, like you were presenting a lecture to someone who already read the theory but never witnessed the experiment.
“Okay,” you said slowly, “you already know what love is, right? At least the idea of it.”
Jungkook nodded once, “Attachment, loyalty, obsession, and vulnerability,” he paused, then added, “in Hell, love is a liability.”
“Yeah,” you sighed, “that tracks.”
You shifted, turning towards him, “In the human world, love isn’t just one thing. It’s not a single emotion. It’s a combination of habits, expectations, and choices people keep making every day, even when it’s inconvenient.”
You could feel Jungkook’s gaze on you.
“Humans don’t love constantly,” you continued, “we get tired, or annoyed. Sometimes we even stop liking the person we love for a little bit. Love isn’t about always feeling something strong, it’s about continuing to care even when the feeling dips.”
“That sounds unstable,” he said.
“It is,” you replied without hesitation, “well, humans are unstable. Love here shows up in really small stupid ways. Remembering how someone takes their coffee, texting them when you get home safe, sitting next to them in silence without feeling the need to fill it, and choosing not to hurt them even when you’re angry.”
Jungkook tilted his head before saying, “So it is restraint.”
“I guess,” you nodded, “but more like effort? Humans don’t just fall in love and stay there. We have to maintain it, we mess up constantly, say the wrong things, and misunderstand each other. Love survives when both people keep trying anyway.”
He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees, “And affection?”
“That’s the visible part of love,” you said, “affection is how humans reassure each other that love is still there, like hugs or holding hands. It’s proof. Humans need proof because we’re insecure.”
“Insecure,” Jungkook repeated thoughtfully.
“Extremely,” you confirmed, “we doubt ourselves, doubt others, and assume the worst. Affection tells us we are wanted, and that we matter.”
Jungkook’s gaze flickered away briefly, towards the window, before returning to you, “And how does one earn it?”
You stayed silent for a few seconds before replying, “You don’t earn love by being powerful or impressive, you earn it by being safe.”
He looked at you again, with a confused look across his face, “Safe?”
“Yeah. Someone who won’t hurt you on purpose, someone predictable in a good way, someone who listens when you talk instead of waiting for their turn to speak, and someone who doesn’t make you feel small.”
“In Hell,” Jungkook said slowly, “making others feel small is how hierarchy is maintained.”
“I figured,” you replied quietly, “that’s why humans and demons don’t work the same way.”
You shifted again, tucking your feet beneath you, “Love also isn’t permanent here. People fall out of it. Sometimes gently, sometimes violently. That’s why humans are afraid of it, but we keep choosing it anyway, because even though it is temporary, love is better than none.”
Jungkook was silent for a long time which made you wonder how all of this works in Kratos.
“So humans accept suffering as part of affection,” he said.
“Yes,” you answered, “but not intentionally. If love only hurts, it’s not love anymore, it’s something else.”
He nodded before asking, “And fear?”
You smiled, you felt like you were giving a lesson to one of your children in class, “Fear can exist alongside love, but it kills it over time. You can’t love someone you’re constantly afraid of. You might obey them or even stay, but you won’t love them.”
He didn’t respond right away and you hesitated for a moment before asking the next question. It felt intrusive in a way, but curiosity nudged at you anyway.
“So,” you said carefully, “are there relationships in Kratos?”
Jungkook barely reacted. His shoulders lifted in a lazy shrug, like the answer didn’t require much thought, “Not in the way you mean,” he replied, “there is no structure built around it, no expectation of permanence. What exists there is want, not attachment.”
You frowned slightly, “Want?”
“Lust,” he clarified easily, “possession or even boredom,” Jungkook’s tone remained flat, almost bored of this topic, “Demons take what they desire, others allow it if the balance of power permits. If it does not, force is not uncommon.”
Your stomach tightened, “That sounds violent.”
“It is efficient,” he said, “in Kratos, bodies are tools like anything else. Strength is proven in many ways.”
You shifted on the sofa, suddenly aware of how small and human the room felt compared to what he was describing, “So no one stays together? No partners?”
“Some remain in proximity,” Jungkook said, “usually for convenience, mutual benefit, and sometimes to consolidate influence, but affection is not part of the exchange.”
“And jealousy?” you asked, “or commitment?”
He tilted his head slightly, as if the concepts were faintly amusing, “Jealousy exists only when ownership is threatened and commitment exists only as long as it remains useful.”
You let out a quiet breath, “So sex doesn’t mean anything there.”
“No,” he replied, “it is physical, it relieves tension and distracts from violence. Sometimes it is used as a reward or punishment.”
You looked down at your hands, processing all of this horrifying information of an unfamiliar place, “Then why do it at all?”
“Because demons are not immune to sensation,” Jungkook said, “and because desire is another form of power. To be wanted is to be elevated.”
You glanced back up at him, “And love never comes into it?”
Jungkook’s expression shifted just slightly, something colder passed through his eyes, “Love complicates hierarchy,” he responded, “it weakens judgment. In Kratos, anything that weakens you is exploited.”
“So when you look at humans,” you said slowly, “doesn’t it seem messy?”
“Yes,” Jungkook answered without hesitation. Then, after a pause, “flawed, loud, and inefficient.”
You let out a small laugh, “We know.”
His gaze lingered on you a second longer than necessary, “Humans,” Jungkook said, “attach meaning where none is required.”
You tilted your head, “Or maybe the meaning is the point and that,” you realized quietly, “is probably why you demons in Kratos don’t understand us.”
And why, for the first time in centuries, Jungkook was trying to.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
The conversation didn’t stop there. It stretches into something oddly domestic.
Jungkook remained where he was with his attention drifting between you and the space around you.
“Do you ever get bored?” you asked eventually.
“Yes,” he replied without hesitation.
That made you snort softly, “I don’t know why that surprises me.”
You stood up to rinse your glass, moving across the open space. You could feel his attention follow you. It was unsettling how natural it has started to feel.
“When you watch the humans that came in,” you asked, “what do you notice first?”
“Their habits,” he replied, “they reveal more than fear ever does.”
You hummed thoughtfully, “That sounds like something a teacher would say.”
Jungkook’s mouth curved up slightly, “Observation keeps you alive.”
You returned to the sofa, settling back into your spot, “You know,” you said lightly, “you’ve been quieter today.”
“Yes.”
“Any reason?”
“I did not wish to be noticed,” Jungkook said, “old habits.”
You nodded, understanding more than you expected to, “I get that.”
The clock was ticking softly on the wall, the sound oddly loud in the silence between you and Jungkook. You glanced at it and sighed, “I should sleep.”
You stood up from the sofa, stretching, as you walked towards the bed tucked into the corner of the studio. You hesitated before finally looking back at him, “You’re not going to rearrange things while I’m asleep, are you?”
Jungkook’s dark gaze lifted to yours, “I already know where everything belongs.”
That wasn’t reassuring.
You laid down anyway, pulling the blanket up as you faced away from him. Your breathing slowly evened out, exhaustion doing its job. Finally falling asleep without difficulty.
♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡
Behind you, Jungkook remained sitting on the sofa.
He studied the studio again, the objects you touched often, and the faint warmth left behind where you were just sitting. This room has been empty for a long time, even when humans lived in it.
But it wasn’t empty anymore.
Something subtle shifted in the air, something noticeable to only Jungkook and he felt it immediately.
It was not a threat.
Jungkook knows this because he could read intent from any creature. And this one did not have any murderous intent.
But this presence didn't belong to you.
Or to him.
Jungkook didn’t move at first. He didn’t need to, whatever shifted in the air carried a weight he has not felt in centuries, something dense and familiar.
This sudden energy wasn’t human fear. This was an energy of something powerful enough to kill humans.
But mere demons could not cross into the human world. The boundary between Hell and Earth has been sealed long before cities were built, before humans learned to name things.
Crossing it required authority, sacrifice, or rituals only the ruling families dared touch. No soldier, no warrior, no matter how respected, could simply step through.
And yet the presence sharpened, condensing near the far side of the studio, close to the window on the other side of the studio. The air warped with pressure, like something large is folding itself into a shape.
Jungkook rose slowly to his feet.
The figure emerged with restraint. Smoke curled inward and pulled tight around a form that solidified piece by piece.
Jungkook now noticed the broad shoulders. A familiar posture, he noticed the horns swept back rather than curved forward, a Warrior’s mark. The scent of iron and ash followed him.
It was unmistakable.
Another demon has appeared in this studio.
When the demon fully materialized, he dropped immediately to one knee, “Master Jungkook,” he said, head bowed low, voice rough with disbelief, “Is it really you, my master?”
For the first time since arriving in this world, Jungkook felt something dangerously close to shock.
“Woojin,” he replied, his voice was controlled, though his wings flexed to show his power hierarchy, “how did you get here?”
Woojin lifted his head just enough for Jungkook to see his face.
He looked older and sharpened like someone who has survived too many battles without rest.
“I did not cross alone,” Woojin replied, “Jophiel helped me.”
Jungkook scoffed and his expression darkened.
It was always funny to him how Angels could easily go back and forth from Earth and Heaven while demons couldn’t.
And Jophiel should have no reason to interfere with Hell’s internal affairs, let alone assist one of its warriors.
“You should not be here,” Jungkook said quietly, “no demon should.”
Woojin’s jaw tightened, “Neither should you.”
Silence followed.
The studio felt smaller now, strained under the weight of two beings it was never meant to contain. Somewhere behind Jungkook, you shifted in your sleep, unaware of how close the world had come to breaking open above you.
“The citadels are restless,” Woojin continued, “North Kratos is changing, your absence has not gone unnoticed.”
Jungkook’s wings folded in slowly, “Then they should have filled it,” he said, “not send you here.”
Woojin exhaled, something between frustration and relief. “We could not reach you, no demon could,” his voice lowered, “I was not sent by The King, I came here on my own will. Jophiel came to the border while I was on guard and he told me everything.”
Jungkook’s gaze somehow shifted almost involuntarily toward the bed.
Woojin noticed.
“I wanted to keep you company,” Woojin said, “but now that I’m here,” he hesitated, then added, “I am not certain you even needed it.”
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