seen from El Salvador
seen from Jordan
seen from Russia
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Belarus
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Tunisia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from United States
pairings: jungkook x (f)reader
words: 369
x
Jeon Jeongguk scares you. Not because he’s almost 6 feet tall, did soccer in high school and joins the university team’s baseball practice for fun, but because he wears his heart on his sleeve.
“I like…” The soft velvet voice drums your ears as a hand brushes against your bare back whilst fingers twirl the ends of your hair around them.
“The scent of your shampoo.” He finally finishes his sentence.
But that did nothing to end your misery.
The screen of your phone is the only source of light in this darkened room. He’s laying next to you, the light of your phone screen stretching over the ridges of his abs down to the v shaped line that disappears underneath the very same sheet you have draped over your chest as you remain sitting up.
“What is it? Apricot?” Jeongguk asks again when he didn’t receive a response from you on his fondness for the mild sweet and fruity fragrance coming from your hair.
That’s because it’s not the shampoo.
Well, you did wash the hair.
But rather than that particular scent catching his attention… it’s Jeongguk liking anything and everything about you.
And you’re not even trying to be presumptuous.
Six months ago, a good one and a half year into the agreement of your being friends with benefits, some time in the early AM, Jeon Jeongguk had stirred awake, reached around your waist and nuzzled his nose into your hair like a lover would.
“I love you.” His words were muffled but with his lips so close to your ear, it was impossible to mistake them.
Then slumber rocked him back to sleep like nothing happened; like he had always woken up in ass crack o’clock after a passionate yet emotionless night in fright that you’d be gone like the wind.
You woke up because of a vibration of a text just a second before him.
But you stayed awake until morning, still as a rock as Jeongguk’s soft snores brushed your ears. Partly because you knew it was coming (call it a woman’s intuition).
And another part of you was confused as fuck.
Because it felt like your heart was breaking.
pairings: jungkook x (f)reader
words: 297
first installment.
x
The puff of cigarette smoke that passed through Jeon Jeongguk’s lips dispersed into thin air, his deep brown bangs brushing his forehead as he drops his head as though he couldn’t bear to look at you.
As though he’d cry if he didn’t tear his eyes away from your emotionless face.
“I don’t want to live in a world where feeling feelings makes you… weak.” His voice cracks at the end but you pretend not to notice.
There’s an urge to scuff the sole of your left boot against the pavement but you remain still as a statue.
The intricate bled ink on his forearm looks blacker tonight than any other.
You used to trace each line with your index finger as you lay your head on arm, naked and bare and safe under his sheets.
To say you’d never graced Jeon Jeongguk with a curve of your lips and stars in your eyes would be a lie.
But that was before he ruined it all.
Before told you he loved you.
No, he still loves you.
If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be standing here sober whilst the friends he pulled you away from cheered and laughed as downed glass after glass of beer somewhere in the bbq restaurant, completely oblivious to what was going down in this barren street at 11:38 in the evening.
God, it’s too fucking early for this.
“Say something.” Jeongguk whispered, slowly sinking to the ground, the hand joint to that inked arm ruffling his hair violently, the lit cigarette burning too close to his index and middle fingers of his other hand.
“Say something, god damn it!” His voice hits the air with so much desperation… so much sadness… and so much hope.
You think you heard your heart breaking.
pairings: jungkook x (f)reader
words: 244
this is the final installment to my jungkook drabble which you can find on my page. it can also be read as a stand alone.
x
“If I’m the bad guy, then why are you drunk at 11 in the morning at some pub?” Jeon Jeongguk’s tattooed forearm is the first thing you see when you blink away the blur in your vision, hand slamming the shot glass against the smooth surface of the counter.
Maybe it’s the few drinks too many that made you think it’s okay to let out that sniffle before you speak.
“I can’t give you my heart. It’s broken.”
Hell, if you were sober you wouldn’t be saying these things. This isn’t you. This is the past you. A girl who dreamed of happily ever after. She learned soon enough that there’s always a continuation to those; one, no story teller dares to tell.
Silence lapses between you.
Good.
It must’ve hit him how much of a train wreck you are. One second you’re the blazing sun that lights up even the cloudiest days. The next, you’re the moon that glazes silver rays. Too cold to the touch.
“You can’t fix what you don’t feel.” Jeongguk’s voice brushes your ears like velvet.
Maybe you’ve gone insane, because to you, it felt like he’s saying I’m not giving up on you.
And you make the fatal mistake of searching for his eyes, wishing, wondering what kind of expression he’s making.
Those galaxy eyes stare back at you with so much certainty, you almost forgot to breathe.
A sob escapes your lips.
“I don’t want to feel and you’re making it so hard.”
“have you seen my hoodie?”
“no...”
“you’re wearing it aren’t you?
warning: implied smut
x
are all humans this odd?
min yoongi gazed at you like you’ve got the most magnificent horns in the kingdom. silly, cats don’t have horns. minotaurs do.
you’ve met a few on your journey to find a mate. they’re not very nice. their heads are too big for their little feet. their dicks are big though. not that they’ll get anywhere with that kind of personality.
and you say journey but actually, you venture a little beyond the borders of the felidae’s territory because all the males tend to go for your elder sisters, leaving you with nothing but your fingerpads to get you through your heat.
this year, you’ve decided to find yourself another species, a different breed. white lions are too possessive, stallions tend to mate with too many, songbirds are get attached too easily and you can’t kiss vipers without being intoxicated on their essences.
you keep walking, deep in thoughts as the trees you pass by start looking the exact same. before you know it, the forest line cedes and the blades of grass that caress your soles have turned to hard, solid earth.
in front of you, stands a boy - your nose crinkles - no, at first sight, those sleepy eyes and slightly puckered lips look like that of a boy’s but this- this person without any distinct feature to identify his breed, is definitely a man.
min yoongi is a man in every sense of instinct.
“wh-what are you doing?” that’s when his droopy eyes come to life, and as you said, as if you bear two magnificent horns on your head.
but he’s not looking at your head. he’s looking at your chest.
“oof!” you breathe out at the soft material that lands on your face, the scent engulfing you smells strongly of him.
what is he?
“w-wear that,” his voice trembles but you’re more interested in this fur-like material he’s telling you to wear. it has one big hole and three smaller ones.
“fuck’s sake, all i wanted was some mushrooms for dinner,” odd. yoongi, he-
“do all your kinds speak to yourselves?” you ask once your ears pop out of one of the holes and then your head.
“don’t your kinds?” he answers, sighing before crossing the distance between you and him and placing a hand on top of your head, “you’re wearing it wrong. don’t you hybrids have clothes?”
the world goes dark for the briefest moment as you feel the material - clothes, he says? - shift around and finally gets pulled over your head. the hole is much larger and comfier around your neck.
“it’s warm,” you hum, rubbing your cheek against the material on your shoulder, “it smells good too. it smells like you.”
you’re not sure why but his species get red especially on his cheeks and ears.
“th-thanks, i guess.”
“you’re welcome.” you grin.
x
“so why were you walking around in the forest owned by humans?” yoongi asks when he closes the movable plank that’s attached to his cube-looking cave. it’s well carved.
ah, so the journey you initially set out has lead you far beyond the felidae territory.
“are you a human?” you answer his question with another question.
he doesn’t seem to care and instead starts making a fire and setting up shiny containers on the fire. you expect him to start cursing and looking distressed again when the container melts - are all humans this stupid? - but the container remains intact in its natural form.
is it metal?
metal is the only thing that can withstand fire but the pantheras tend to keep the those for themselves to make arrowheads.
you shiver at the remembrance of those golden eyes. the pantheras may have been part of the fedilaes but they’ve long since abandoned their origins, claiming that they were more superior.
“you can have some mushroom soup and leave, i’m sure a kid like you can find her way home,” he has a similar material - clothes - that and put it on while you were deep in your thoughts.
“i’m not a kid - well, i haven’t mated yet, but i’m not a kid,” you say.
he laughs. it’s the kind of laugh that those arrogant minatours do but he’s actually cute so you’ll let it slide, “yeah? so how old are you?”
“in fidelae years, twenty-three,” you say, bringing your legs to your chest under the ‘clothes’ and hugging yourself, enjoying the softness of the material until a loud clang reverberates from where he is.
you’re on your feet in an instant, padding towards where the human male is, cupping his hand and gazing down at it with a sort of grimace.
“give it to me,” you say, gently prying his uninjured hand off and directing his finger to your lips.
it takes a few seconds for the blood to stop flowing from the cut, when it does, you release his finger, giving it a few licks before looking up at yoongi who’s face has turned beet red yet again.
you pick up the scent of his arousal as he looks again, muttering a “th-thanks, but you shouldn’t do that to other people - not even males of your kind, got it?”
“yoongi,” you finally say his name, fingers tugging on the hem of his ‘clothes’, “if you don’t want me to treat other males like that, then take me. make me yours.”
when he twists his porcelain neck to face you - he looks like all the blood in his body is rushing to his head. it’s a surprise that he hasn’t exploded. but you guess, as he cups your cheek in his hands, the trace of blood from the cut brushing against your skin and crashes his lips on yours - he explodes in a different way.
x
min yoongi tastes divine. like the dew drop of first light after the blue moon. he tastes different from you.
you might have been a little curious and decided to lick your juice coated fingers after you’d taken care of yourself.
“y-your teeth-” he stammers, propping his elbows on the thing he calls bed as he looks at you with the most adorable lust-filled gaze.
you ran your tongue over your canines. well, they never hurt you but they’re still pretty sharp. either way, you’ve licked him enough to know just how good he tastes like.
he tastes divine but he must feel better.
you grin, traces of your excitement pouring over his hardened dick as you stand over it on your knees, “thank you for accepting me as your mate for this year!”
and then you take him all the way to the hilt. the pent up frustrations from all those years you’ve lost to your sisters when it comes to finding a mate blooms in your core and spreads all over your body like sweet, sweet venom.
do all human dicks feel this good?
yoongi’s making the prettiest sound with that pretty face of his as you bounce on his dick. and he lets you do whatever you want. you heard from your sisters that the males of your kin have too big of an ego to let the females take the lead.
“take the hoodie off,” yoongi tugs on the hem of your own clothes.
“why? it’s so comfy!” you whine but know that you’d succumb those pretty pink lips and those clouded eyes anyway.
“i wanna touch you too.”
and so the clothes -hoodie - comes off. and all of a sudden, you’re the shy little kitten that’s hiding her face in her hands as the human male teases your erect nipples. then he pulls you lower until his mouth traps your nipple and his other hand starts coaxing your hips to move again - you’re not sure why or when you stopped.
but you’ve shed off some of the shyness as your bodies mold together into one and an unfamiliar yet familiar spasms of climax shoots through your body.
you end up reaching for the hoodie despite yoongi’s complaints - something about “can’t be naked alone”. he declines your offer to help him into his own hoodie and opts for wrapping his arms around you, his chin on the top of your head and his jawline brushing against the side of your ears, “i’ll keep warm like this.”
x
humans may be odd but they’ve got good stamina. every waking moment of your and yoongi’s lives, you both spend them tangled in his bed or cuddled up on his couch - sometimes you end up on the floor, and that’s nice too because yoongi lends you his arm as a pillow while you cuddle up to him.
but lately, something seems to be bothering him and you find out why on the last day of your heat.
“you thanked me for being your mate for this year... do you change mates every year?” he’s staring at the ceiling with a sort of thoughtfulness that’s never usually there.
he’s either sleepy or horny most of the time.
other times he gets up to cook for the two of you.
“we’re encouraged to look for different mates in order to find the strongest that we can use to bear children with and continue the royal bloodline but the nobles and below don’t need to try so hard to find mates. they usually stay with their first mate.”
yoongi’s thoughtful hum vibrates under your fingerpads that lie on his chest - you enjoy feeling the different patterns of his heartbeat.
“wait... are you a royal?” his wide eyes gaze into you like the first time you met, as if you’ve grown horns on your head.
“my father is amun, the conqueror of the kingdom,” you nod, “but since i’m the youngest, the pressure to procreate isn’t that big, i doubt anyone notices i’ve been away for three months. i should probably go back.”
“yeah,” he looks like he’s about to cry any moment, “you should,” but he turns away before you can say anything.
x
ever since yesterday, yoongi’s been acting odd.
cold and distant, as if you’re both strangers living under the same roof. you want to wait until he wakes up to tell him goodbye but it’s a few hours past first light and your guardians, having been lifted from their heat, may be searching high and low for you. so you slip out of yoongi’s bed and out of the plank - door.
as you thought, jennie and lisa were on the verge of crying and going to your father to offer their heads for failing to find out their master’s whareabouts.
“my lady,” jennie nose crinkles as she takes repeated whiffs of your scent, “this scent- it doesn’t belong to a felidae.”
“did you mate with a pathera?” lisa’s round eyes almost pop out of their sockets.
you giggle before bringing your index finger to your lips, “shh, don’t tell father but- he’s a human.”
“a-a human?” jennie whispers under her breath, “my lady, you know what they say about humans! th-they’re like gods! they have the purest forms without tails or thorns on their body!”
“i know, that’s why you two must keep it a secret.” you say but the moment you walk down the pillars leading to the throne, you know everyone can smell the scent of yoongi on you.
your sisters’ alarmed gazes doesn’t go past you but you take your spot on the far end of the throne anyway.
“___ - you- who was your mate?” your sister, agatha, asks.
she’s been rubbing the fact that she’s had more mates than your years of living.
“why should i tell you?” you shoot her a victorious grin.
she huffs, displeased, “wait until father knows about this.”
and as if on cue, the horn begins to blow and silence settles all over the throne as a beast larger than two- no, three felidaes in their beast forms combined, struts down the pillared isle, his steps light and graceful as is his transformation as the beast gets on two paws and takes the remaining of his steps on his two feet.
“felidaes, thank you for gathering here on this wonderful day after yet another successful mating season. i look forward welcoming new cubs to our prides,” he announces.
“and to ___, my youngest, when will i be able to meet this human mate of yours?” he turns to you, pride laced around his words as agatha and the rest of the people’s eyes widen at the word ‘human’.
you giggle, feeling the blood rushing to your face - this must have been how yoongi felt every time his face goes red, “father, you know how humans are different from us. please give us more time.”
x
humans are odd.
min yoongi especially so.
he acts like nothing’s changed from the time you were living with him to the time you’ve left him. it may have been a short period - has it been a month? - of running away from the ladies that try to pry the story of you and your human mate and the males that sudden have their attention turned to you, trying to court you with offerings of the ancient relics and deepest colored gems.
your tail sways over the ledge of the window as you watch the human male set walk pass you and set up the table before going back to the kitchen only to stop midway. as if he’s seen a ghost.
oh well, at least it isn’t horns.
then he slowly turns to you with eyes round and awake - shocked and disbelieved, even.
“____, y-you came back?” he stammers out.
you grin, hopping off the ledge and bounding right into his arms, your own wrapped around his neck whilst your naked breasts press up against his chest, “i missed your hoodie, so i came back.”
yoongi looks like he’s about to scold you and cry at the same time, but he does neither. instead, he cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses you like he’s never had a drop of water since the day you left.
and you kiss back, savoring the taste of your human mate whom you’ve chosen to spend your whole life with.
you spend your days cuddled together in his sheets like you did before except you’re not licking his neck with every chance you get - it’s the part where he smells most divine besides his dick.
it turns out a human’s heat is all year round. during winter, his hand slips under the hoodie and touches your lower lips. during summer, he keeps trying to take off the hoodie. in autumn and spring, he doesn’t mind the hoodie as much. but you suppose you can’t be hogging all of them at once.
“have you seen my hoodie?” he means the one he claims to be his and is supposed to be steal-proof.
the bright red one with a skull at the back.
you feel your ears perking at the word, thankfully the hood’s covering your head, “no...”
a good few seconds pass without yoongi saying anything, before he sighs, “you’re wearing it, aren’t you?”
underneath your black hoodie, a piece of bright red peeks from the neckline. so you peek up at the human male, laughing sheepishly, “it’s just so comfy and it smells like you...”
“i should start charging you for fees,” he plants his hands on either sides of you, resting his forehead on yours as he smirks deviously.
“f-fees?” you laugh, “w-well, the kingdom is filled with minerals you humans seem to love.”
“pay up with your body,” there’s a glint in his eyes - the kind that used to get buried beneath blushed skin and shyly closed eyes.
you feel your ears perking up, your tail swaying behind you as you tilt your head in just the right angle to kiss his lips. when you pull away, his face is glowing beet red.
“okay, i paid my dues, right?” you shoot him one of your smiles.
he looks like he has more to say, disappointed even, but he settles with a “y-yeah.”
tugging on his hand and swiftly pulling him down onto the bed, cradling his waist. his face looks like it’s about to explode. you giggle.
“you- you’re teasing me,” his forehead creases and he looks like he’s about to kill you and kiss you at the same time.
humans are odd.
min yoongi, especially so.
x
note. a repost from my other blog.
warnings: depiction of toxic relationship and pregnancy.
kim taehyung had only met you a few times.
once and twice for the date. thrice for the pregnancy test which he had only a day to prepare for. and the fourth time, he’d just came over to check up on you and ended up staying over when your ex came knocking on your door at ass crack o’clock.
you’d slipped out of bed and him being him, he’d trailed after you like a groggy puppy barely able to open his eyes when he’d first heard his voice. a sort of low timbre that seems to echo off the walls.
“three months down and you get with another man? really, ___?”
taehyung isn’t much of a fighter - nor is he a peace keeper but at times like these, his instincts tend to make the calls for him. and before he knew it, his feet are padding over to you but he couldn’t go anywhere past that because you have the chain lock on and he’s forced to stand behind you where he can directly catch the unfamiliar face of a man, flushed and contorted with a sort of ugliness from within.
“we got a divorce, daniel,” you hiss out, “you took away my house, my car and even the dog - what the hell are you doing here?!”
“mark saw you with -” it’s only then that daniel seems to notice the man standing behind you with a hand on your waist and a feral calmness to his stare, “-with him.”
he’d said it as if taehyung is a few levels too low for you - when it’s the opposite. it’s him that’s out of your league. cute and funny and everything your ex-husband wasn’t.
“and?” you huff, exasperated.
then daniel’s eyes shift to you. first, confusion flashes across his face like a firework, then dejection and finally rage. the same old face he’d make when he’s upset over you pointing out his wrongs before he’d turn the table back to you and called you names you’d never call him.
“i thought we were making this work,” he lets out a sound between a scoff and a laugh - nothing that you’ve never seen him do when he tries to make it seem like everything’s going fine until ‘you’ dropped the bomb.
“just because i treated you like a decent human being doesn’t mean i want you to be a constant part of my life again - seriously, go home,” and with that, you slam the door in your ex-husband’s face.
twirling around, taehyung catches the mixture of emotions flooding in your eyes behind a steel wall, “sorry you had to see that.”
“it’s okay,” is his instinctive response, but then he realizes, “actually, it’s not okay - you said he lives two hours from you,” then he remembers that night when you’d cried in his arms right outside of the clinic where you’d just had your doctor’s appointment - the result came a few days after but you already knew, and by god you were terrified, “does he do this all the time?”
“no - this is the first,” you’re holding back tears, “but we have mutual friends and we text sometimes - just to ask how the other is doing because we decided to stay friends - i don’t know where he got the idea that we’re working it out-”
taehyung gathers you in his arms and kisses the top of your head as you try and fail and try again to hold the tears back.
it’s only when morning comes, when he finds you in the kitchen cooking with a smile as bright as the sun and eyes a tad bit swollen but looking as beautiful as ever, that he carefully tip toes around you.
“i think you should move in with me,” he tries to sound casual as he guides the lukewarm pancake into his mouth.
“taehyung i can’t impose on you like that,” is what you say - and that’s when he looks up, meeting your eyes that glimmer with a sign of sincerity, “i know you’re worried about me but i’m fine.”
so he puts down the fork to reach for your hand across the counter, thumb caressing your knuckles, “i know but it’s okay not to be fine because i’m here now and i wanna take care of you - i wanna take care of our kid. will you let me do that?”
and he’s not sure if it’s love or if it’s a sense of responsibility in him. but when he sees you with your pregnant belly and lame but lovable sense of humor - nine months down the line, as he whispers ‘you can do this’ and ‘push, baby’ into your ears and when he sees your smile as you hold you and his child, he realizes that his love for you has grown as vast as the ocean and as infinite as the galaxy.
five years down the road, and you’re sporting the diamond ring he proposed to you with, he kisses the top of your head and wishes you a good morning whilst you grace him with the most ethereal smile before your eyebrows knit themselves together, turning to your kids.
“jimin, jeongguk! stop running in the house!” taehyung would say you’re a pretty strict mother - but it balances out because he can never say no to his boys.
the two groan, one five and the other three.
“but mom! we’re going on a pirate ship adventure!” the eldest laments and only then does taehyung see the black cap mirroring a pirate’s hat and the banana possibly a sword.
it’s only then do you turn on the stove, turning your full attention to your two rascals, “okay, but where’s the ship?”
the two turn to each other, before the youngest asks “what’s a chip?”
“a ship! like a big tree and it floats on water!” jimin shouts, hands flailing around to emphasize on the floating tree’s size as his brother’s mouth falls to the ground.
“woah,” jeongguk gasps.
“why don’t you go show jeongguk a ship, jimin?” taehyung suggests, picking up on your hint, “you know, that peter pan book i brought home for you guys yesterday - captain hook’s a pirate and he’s got a ship.”
“a ship! a ship!” jeongguk claps at the mere mention of it.
“come on!” jimin beckons before the two of them start zooming to their room and you yelling after them to “slow down, you two!”
“you’ve got some tension built up right here, darling,” he starts massaging your shoulders, sneaking in a kiss which you gladly accept before announcing.
“two,” you hold up two digits in his face, “two kids and i’m done - i told you.”
“yeah,” taehyung agrees.
it’s probably the lack of protest or the way he’s kissing your temple gently - but either way, it’s you that’s murmuring the opposite proposition, “would be nice if we had a girl though.”
“you want me to call my parents?” he beams, “ask if it’s okay send the kids there for the weekend.”
“yes!” you clap once and he’s reminded of his youngest and his habit of clapping at everything that excites him.
“okay,” he manages to slip a kiss on your forehead before two pairs of footsteps comes thundering into the kitchen, screaming “mommy! daddy! can you read us the story?”
you shake your head at the two’s antics, smile curling on your lips, “come on then.”
you make yourself to the room, jimin holding your hand while jeongguk goes on about captain ‘ook’ as taehyung carries him behind you.
meeting you was possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
Jeon Jeongguk was just an acquaintance. The child of a family friend.
That is, until our parents decide to get us engaged.
One night, and a few glasses of champagne too many, Mr. Jeon made a slip of tongue. Something about “telling you two when you’re older” and “but they’ve been getting along so well, haven’t they?” and finally, “we didn’t need to worry about the breaking the news of the engagement.”
Powerless as we were, only at the age of barely 18, we decided we’d go along with it.
If only to part ways somewhere along the line after we’ve got enough recognition. Enough power to go on without the other’s support and without clinging onto our parents’ influence.
Now, at the age of 25, one succeeded the family business and the other flying from one country to another in chase of strengthening her connections.
Yet at the age of 25, we still couldn’t shake off our family’s influence.
“Should we just get married?” Jeongguk suggests, twirling the glass of deep red wine in his hand - he looks absolutely handsome with the first two buttons of his shirt undone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and disheveled hair that telltales a run of fingers over them one too many times before he arrived here.
At our supposed matrimonial home.
Our parents gifted us a penthouse when they found out we were dating. It was for show but this house has become our safe haven. A place for only him and I. A space where we can just be.
“At this point, it doesn’t sound half bad - getting married to you,” I pull on the shawl wrapped around my nightgown adorned body, lifting the glass of whiskey and clinking it with his when he raised it to me, “I’ve given up on the notion of love after my parents screamed divorce for like, the hundredth time.”
“We won’t be like them,” it’s so easy for Jeongguk to proclaim those words.
A surety that we wouldn’t turn out like our progenitors.
“At least, we’re friends,” which is to say we never had such strong feelings for each other in the first place.
Passion breeds love and love leads to hate once all the excitement and fire shimmers down. Our parents’ only known the high life - we’re different, Jeongguk and I, we’ve adamant about hiding our family backgrounds. Choosing to go to public schools and university - of course at the expanse of promising to go together.
“Alright then, let’s get married,” he sets the glass down, its contents barely touched before he pushes himself up, hand outstretched to me.
“Wha-” I’m sure I look like a fool, staring at him with round eyes and slacked jaw but it’s not a face Jeongguk’s never seen. If I were in love with him, I’d be a little more concerned about my appearance.
But I’m not.
And once I recover from that shocking proposal, I take his hand.
By the age of 26, we’re pressured for a child. An heir to the family that will carry on the legacy on his back like we did our whole lives.
To say Jeongguk and I have never consummated our marriage would be a lie. Attraction shouldn’t be equated to romantic feelings. We know that and we fucked knowing that this means nothing more than a way to relief our stresses.
But lately, Jeongguk’s been rather... odd.
I find his hand on my waist or grasping mine even when we’ve stepped out of the crowded hall where the main event was held. Those forehead kisses whenever he comes home and I’m around - aren’t so bad. If at all. He tells me to stay in bed while he makes us breakfast but we end up going out for brunch with empty stomachs and suit cases in the car - the renovation to fix the burned walls will take about 3 months.
We use that as an excuse to drop off the face of the earth and spend it in a private island gifted to us by our parents upon the news of our elopement.
So to say we didn’t love each other would be a lie. But to say we have romantic feelings for each other would be as ambiguous.
It’s too easy.
Far too effortless to be together compared to the relationships I’ve seen lifted up and burned to ashes.
Our friends and family asks how we keep from ripping our hair out for whatever reason at certain points of our relationship.
We say it’s because we adore each other so much.
Truth is, we’re just not as romantically involved to feel such frustrations.
“Do you want to have sex on the beach?” Jeongguk suggests one fine evening as we’re having steak on the balcony with the curtains swaying with the coming wind.
It’s so sudden - just like our impromptus marriage, I almost choked.
“Wh-what-” and just like that night, I must have looked like a bigger fool to be flustered and embarrassed at his uncannily direct proposition.
I don’t know what’s going on - these days, I get flustered too easily.
Jeongguk shoulder line shifts as he shrugs, my embarrassment causing his cheeks to redden too, “just thought we should try it. It’s okay if you’re not com-”
“I- I wouldn’t mind that,” I say, eyes casted down, cheeks growing hotter when I hear the silence and the ‘o-oh’ a second later, as if he didn’t expect me to agree.
As if he knew me like the back of his hand.
I thought I knew him too.
The next day, accompanied with the breeze of the ocean and feeling of sand on my skin as Jeongguk groans into my shoulder - I thought I’d go insane.
And insane I went, for ever since then, I couldn’t even look at him in the eye without having my heart race and the cheeks heat up. And yet, he keeps coming home with flowers every two weeks until my room smells like spring. He keeps kissing me on the forehead when he hands me the bouquet.
At the age of 27, I throw the bouquet he brought back. It hits his chest and crashes against the ground in between his feet.
“How long has it been going on?!” I don’t know why my heart feels like it’s being crushed into a million pieces.
It’s not as if Jeongguk’s line of work saves him from all the stunningly beautiful women - it’s just that I didn’t care back then.
So why - why did it break me so when I see him with his hand around another woman’s waist as they walk to his car in broad daylight.
“What do you mean-” his rich brown eyes are clouded with confusion, those pink lips parted without a sound, hands freeze in the air as if he’s trying to reach for me but stops halfway.
Perhaps because he knows his faults.
That night, I climb into bed with tear stained face after crying my eyes out in the bathtub.
But that night, Jeongguk came to me, a knock on the door and a “can I come in?” I didn’t answer but I feel the dip of the bed a second later before familiar, strong arms wrap around me from behind. A warm breath on my shoulder as he mumbles into my skin, “she’s the wife of the CEO whose company we’re negotiating with. She was feeling sick so I helped her to the car. Doesn’t excuse what I did but I called and broke off the deal.”
We fall asleep in each other’s for the first time since that night at the private island.
And at the age of 28, as I watch him play with my cousin’s toddler, I realize that I want a family with him. Not because we’re obligated to continue the bloodline at some point.
But because, perhaps, all this time -
“I may have loved you all along,” I murmur as I share my feelings with him that night, cuddled up in my bed - he’s been coming to sleep with me, his own room now feeling scarce of life as his belongings begin to fill up the spots in my space.
And for the first time since I’ve known Jeon Jeongguk, he hiccups - pressing his hand to his lips as his eyes brim with tears.
“Fuck,” he laughs, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand, “this is so uncool - come on, close your eyes - I’ll tell you when I stop bawling like an idiot.”
“I don’t want to - I’m done running away from the things that I fear would happen if I fall in love,” my hands frame around his face, “I want to face you with my whole heart - I... I want to be your wife, your lover, your support... your everything, Jeongguk as you are mine.”
The waterworks comes in full force, Jeongguk’s hiccupping and sniffling as his eyes bore into mine, my hands are damp from wiping his tears so he wouldn’t rub his eyes red in his fervor.
That night, we fall asleep in each other’s arms, knowing tomorrow will be a different, much brighter day.
x
note. ok so ionno what i did lol but hope it’s enjoyable.
you and yoongi had an unusual friendship.
if you could even call those polite smiles and awkward silences when you’re left together to wait for the rest of your friends to arrive at the restaurant or wherever place you decided to meet up - a friendship.
but you definitely didn’t dislike him.
far from it, actually-
“since we’re at the end of the road, i wanna close this chapter of my life by saying i like you, yoongi and i think you’re attractive as fuck,” you’d plainly said after another episode of having been stuck together to wait for your friends to gather at the spot you’d promised.
deep blue, almost black robes waving around everywhere as people laughed and posed and took pictures but you’d stood five feet apart from each other as if you didn’t know each other for the rest of your college years.
hell, you were in the same batch. took the same classes.
but someway, somehow, in the absence of your friend group who each comprised of different majors and therefore scattered all over campus in different departments, you two never really crossed paths.
you had different sets of friends beside those mismatched bunch. ones that were set to be your partner, group mate, lunch mate and everything you weren’t to each other.
“what?” the aforementioned man whose eyes are usually seen half-closed and bored, turned even smaller as he squinted at you - as if he could see a caption somewhere on your face if he did that.
“i like you - i don’t know when it started but before i know it, i just kind of have a big ass crush on you,” you shrugged, perhaps it’s the chaotic but also detaching setting around you that wrapped you in a blanket of comfort - the knowledge that nobody was listening or even paying attention to you as they laughed and hugged and made today their day and no one else’s.
maybe it’s the fact that after this, you’d probably have a few good months to beat yourself up over the embarrassment of confessing your feelings like you were doing now.
either way, you felt the least bit nervous about being rejected - it was your graduation day and not even this could dampen the mood.
“good talk,” you’d lightly smacked his arm with the scroll after you’d spotted your friends waving and approaching you - their excitement over the rooftop for you two who were the firsts to graduate among them.
then you made your way to them, intending to meet them half way as you’d raised that same hand that was holding the scroll as if to wave and also say ‘well, here’s the piece of paper i sold my soul for.’ but then something caught your other wrist and the world spun - you braced yourself for the ground you were about to crash into but you didn’t think to prepare yourself for what a pair of the softest lips would do to your heart.
skin fair as snow and beautiful black eyelashes fluttering shut were the last thing you saw before you heard a squeal and then came the whistling - probably from you group of friends who must’ve seen it all. and finally, yoongi’s lips left yours.
“that’s my answer,” a heartwarming smile graced his features as tints of pink spread across his face.
“i- i wasn’t expecting any,” you’d dumbly said.
“you can’t expect to tell me the girl i’ve had the biggest crush on has the biggest crush on me too and just walk away either,” he looked at you like he’d always looked at you - with that same polite smile and eyes that only saw you.
you concurred, you might have been late to realize that yoongi never really smiled to anyone when talking and he’d usually look at something as close to a person’s eyes like their hair or their temple instead.
what an unusual way to realize something.
