The Next

Are you going to Stay?

(Fuckboy! Jungkook x Reader) (Idol au) (Soulmate Au)

Summary: It’s been a year since he last saw you, and every day he misses you more. It was only a matter of time until he turned up at your door asking for another chance.

Tags: angst with a happy ending, best friends to lovers, Themes of unhealthy coping mechanisms, sexual tension, emotional intimacy, physical intimacy, brief sexual scenes, Jungkook really loves the reader’s thighs, Touch starved Jungkook, Mentions of hookups, talks of love languages, alcohol mention, Jungkook is intoxicated for most of this.

W/c: 6.4k

Song rec: Jk- Still with you 

A/N: there is a lot of time jumps in this where Jungkook is thinking through his memories while drunk, so if it sounds confusing that’s the point. this is really near and dear to my heart- I wrote the bulk of this in one hour after listening to jungkook’s song still with you. it is directly inspired by that song. A lot of the dialogue in this story is based on things that have been said to me or I’ve said to others- so yeah- hope you like this self-indulgent story! 

“Of course I’ll never turn you away- but…do me a favor Jungkook, and don’t come back until you’ve decided what you want from me.”

One year. It’s been a little more than one year since he’s seen you and still- the last words you said to him haunt him as he walks through the rainy streets of Seoul. His fellow strangers on the sidewalk giving him a few weird looks for not having an umbrella.

He pulls up his facemask a little more, the bucket hat soaked through to his hair. The cold rain feels good against the back of his neck- the contact startling. Maybe Jungkook’s just too touch starved to make the right choices right now. Maybe its because he only wants someone to touch him if it’s you.

It didn’t always use to be that way. before he’d met you; he’d regularly needed a more sexual outlet for all his frustration, excess energy, and stress. It was healthy right? To need that? To want a connection without any strings in his line of work. 

Jungkook is a truthful person, and he stays that way by only ever lying to himself.  

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Shootout to this, like hell you romantic, you!-

four seven eight

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 12k

glimpse: you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you.

alternatively, jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.

[ part one + intermission + part two + intermission 02 + part three ]

[ major angst (pls take a break when necessary!!), no cheating happens here btw, some rlly cute moments i swear, jk’s a cold lover, emotional constipation + breakdowns, allusions to anxiety + anxiety attacks, self-deprication n loathing, miscommunication, based on the moral dilemma of whether or not it’s okay to be friends with ur ex, eventual redemption in the next parts :) ]

notes: it’s finally out and i can’t wait for you to read!! this piece is my baby, the rightful successor to heartburn <3 i’m aware that the last time i wrote a mini-series it was rlly heavy, but please trust me when i say that this would be lighter <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :) | series masterlist

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So beautiful. A fresh read. Second chance romances are also one of my very favourite troops. Love your writings always ❤️❤️

everyone has done a handful of questionable things in the past, and jungkook was no exception. now, if the questionable thing was going to a past lover's place while pretty drunk, one would probably say 'that was stupid of you' but it really isn't uncalled for. (it happens way more than people give credit for.)

the only catch to this scenario? it was happening right about two seconds ago.

it was messy, he was a mess, this whole situation was messed up. he knew he shouldn't have lingered so long around you at the new years party for work, but he couldn't help it. (the drinks were unlimited and the food was divine, but the way the lights descended on you was a sight for sore eyes. he knew he couldn't stay away, not when you looked like that.) (he wasn't being a creep though.) (oh god, please tell him he wasn't being a creep--)

you were too kind to leave him alone and three-quarters absolutely plastered at the bar, but you were awkward about it. the last time this similar experience happened, both of you were drunk and intertwined together; lovestruck idiots that were the type to make out in front of everyone. the only way to separate you two was when your friends made disgusted faux-vomiting sounds in order to break up the session with laughter, ubers already waiting outside.

so that was how jungkook found himself in the same apartment he half-shared with you nearly three years ago, barely aware that this was real life until you caught him before he tripped over himself. you propped him up so he was leaning on the adjacent wall like a broken ladder, making sure to ask him thrice if he could support himself when you take off your coat and shoes. you helped him with his before guiding him to your living room, plopping him down onto your couch with a heavy huff.

"hey," you murmured, sitting down beside him and patting his chest. his eyes fluttered open, head sloshing to the side to meet your gaze. you were in awe at how his eyes still held the entire universe within them, ever curious and always searching - but you had to clear your throat and look away when you registered familiar affection there too. "how are you feeling? do you need some water?"

"m'good," he mumbled back a reply, a hiccup echoing out right after. you laughed softly as you looked back at him, his face peaceful as he closed his eyes and let himself slide his body towards yours. "m'good, just a little nap will do..." a sigh passed your lips when his body went slack immediately, his ability to sleep pretty much anywhere still going strong. with every fiber of your being telling you otherwise, you couldn't help reaching up to brush the strands of hair out of his eyes.

jungkook jerked awake about forty minutes later, a disoriented groan sounding out when his vision swam a little as he got his vertigo under control. when his surroundings started to clear up and register, a pang of dread hit his chest as he replayed the night's events and tried to add up how he got back here. but with alcohol still in his system, his head only answered back with throbs of pain. he didn't even hear your footsteps shuffling towards him from the kitchen, or that you were in the kitchen the entire time and witnessed him wake up in such a tipsy frenzy. (you had to cover your mouth so your laugh wouldn't trickle out at the sight.)

"here. this might help," you said, holding up a large glass of ice water. jungkook gingerly took it off your hands, eyes downcast as he muttered a thank you. you let him know he could take a shower if he was up for it and that you left out an extra toothbrush for him to have, which he accepted both with wary gratitude.

sobered up and increasingly aware of where he was (how he used to and still does know this place like the back of his hand), he came out of the bathroom toweling his hair dry to find you at your kitchen island, seated on a stool with your back to him. a part of him he thought he had buried long after the break up etched back into the edges of his heart; countless memories of being able to hold you from behind and press a kiss to your right temple.

he shook his head of the haunting images, before clearing his throat and alerting you that he was done. you turned around and flashed a small smile, one that didn't reach your eyes like it used to. it stung a little. "would you like some tea or anything?"

"no, no, that's okay. you've been nothing but kind to me when i was being a prick and crashed here, drunk and everything. i'm sorry - i'll get out of here so you can get to bed. how much was the uber--?"

"jungkook, it's already three in the morning," you frowned now, and it took everything in his power not to reach out and brush it away with his thumb like he used to. his hands physically ached and he cursed himself quietly for always replaying those chapters of his life with you on his spare time. "you can stay, i don't really mind. we can figure out the uber things later, it's no big deal. the couch is all yours to sleep on. the spare pillows and blankets--"

"are underneath, in the storage drawers." he finished quietly.

you blinked, mouth still open from speaking. jungkook feared the worst that he finally blew it, making it incredibly awkward for the fact that exes were in the same place at the same time, in a situation that compromises personal space and conflicting emotions. (at least for him.) but much to his surprise, and your own, you let out a genuine chuckle; small and fond. "yeah. exactly there. so, please, stay the night just so it's safer. you can leave any time you wish - it's the weekend anyway."

and with that, he found himself saying goodnight to you as you stalled a bit by the lightswitch to the living room, eyes portraying something he couldn't quite read fully. before he could ask you if something was wrong, you smiled softly and shook your head almost to yourself; as if you could hear the question coming from him. his heart both grew and cracked a little in his chest at the sight as the world went dark around him.

"goodnight, jungkook. sleep well."

i imagine you’re a home

Pairings: bestfriend jungkook X yn | Genre: Angst healing au | Trope: it’s complicated AU | SFW: PG-13 | Word Count: 1.8k

Summary:  it took one miscall to spiral Jungkook down again.

It was everyone’s fault. 

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Wow it was such a beautiful story. Full of so much emotions and feelings. Beautifully written. Loved it 💜💜💜

how long will we fall

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 14k

glimpse: if it’s fate, it should already be set onto your skin — that’s why jungkook’s initials are already on your finger. he’s always there for you, but not only for you. if you’re his fate, he’d rather not have it.

alternatively, jungkook’s your soulmate, but he doesn’t want to be.

[ soulmate au, painful f2l, unrequited love (at first), a lot of angst, more fluff n wholesome moments, emotional constipation, yearning, jealousy, swearing, reverse cards that make u cheer, redemption arc, i swear to u that this does not hurt as much as heartburn did ]

notes: i'm back with a big fic!!! :D this was originally supposed to be named something else but i realized that the title was Too Serious and u know what,,, ten listens later as i write this, i realized that i'm obsessed with this song that i received from this ask and wow thank u so much anon <33 although the rec isn't originally for this fic, it fits perfectly and i can't thank u enough <33

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :)

There will never be another Jeon Jungkook in this world — that much you're sure of.

You're sure of it because it feels as if it's a universal truth. An irrevocable and irreversible one that you don't bother verifying because Jungkook carries his presence with finality, obvious that he carries security within himself the most.

If he were to slip away from your grasp for any reason beneath or beyond you, you’d know that he leave a vacuum in his wake. Jungkook isn’t yours for you to lose, but he is yours for you to long for.

You know this because Jungkook is the type of beauty you won't ever grow used to despite spending years, with him and around him. You're both seniors in college and yet you don't feel like it, despite being born just a couple months earlier than him (therefore older) which irks him to this day. You don't feel like it because his presence alone makes you feel like you're in elementary figuring out your heart flutters from square one.

If he were to star in a show, he’d be the mainstay character everyone fawns over. He would be the one to stay in the biggest trailer, have the most doting team, and have the brightest lights on him. If Jungkook was a star, he’d rake in all the money by himself.

If Jungkook were to to be yours, you’d never want for anything more.

“Are you seriously — don’t sleep on me!”

Jungkook’s voice is the first thing that snaps you out of your reverie, reminding you once again that you think of him even if he’s already in your presence, an endearingly-type of new low for you.

“I wasn’t sleeping on you,” you snort with a defensive cross of your arms across your chest, the prospect of rest making you yawn in suppression with your mouth closed, eyes tearing up and your nostrils flaring instead.

“Yeah but you were zoning out on me,” he sing-songs in faux irritation, twirling on his chair with an accusing point of his finger, “and that means I have two minutes left to talk to you before you fall asleep.”

The only reason you’re awake is because Jungkook practically begged to keep you up as emotional (and actual) support for the entirety of the assignments he’s been cramming.

You share a spacious dorm and yet the two of you are cooped up in his room because his mind would overload if he’s in someplace else, eyes surely gonna shake if he were to write essays on the coffee table in the living room or at the bar stool in the kitchen.

“What do you need me for now?”

Need.

It’s nice being needed.

It’s nice being needed that despite Jungkook’s initials on your ring finger that tied him to you as your soulmate, and his unawareness of it, Jungkook needs you.

The initials on one’s left ring finger develops over time. Some take mere years after their birth while others take decades. Starts off faint until they become clear red letters right on your vena amoris, inked on the skin above the vein that’s closest to your heart.

It gets fully-developed when it’s fully-realized. Having Jungkook’s bright and clear on your finger didn’t necessarily mean your initials reflect the same condition on his.

It was personal preference, really — whether or not you choose to cover up the soulmate mark or not. You’ve always chosen to cover your finger up with a ring because you didn’t want to freak your best friend ever since childhood that simply put, the two of you are soulmates.

Jungkook, just like you, chooses to wear a ring. In fact, he even wears the same one that you do because he argues that even if you’ve bought the silver signet ring first with the money you’ve saved up for years (it wasn’t cheap at all), he thought about it first.

That’s where the connection ends; only goes so far for the two of you to have matching rings to cover up your soulmate marks.

Jungkook, adamantly and stubbornly since the start, doesn’t like looking at his ring finger.

Even before there were faint outlines of ink, too vague for it to resemble your initials, eight-year old Jungkook would start having things around his particular digit, whether it’s a two-day old ring pop he leaves in the fridge or a piece of yarn that accidentally almost cuts off his blood circulation.

You remember Mrs. Jeon sheepishly explaining to curious onlookers whenever both of your families would go out for trips and that out of the two youngest members of their entourage, the handsome child with the wide eyes would have some sort of cover on his ring finger at an early age, be it an oven mitten or a headband scrunched up.

“I like not knowing who’s apparently meant for me.”

You’ve asked him multiple times throughout your life, all for Jungkook to be consistent and give you the same answer every time.

The same answer when you were kids as you repetitively flicked the tip of his ring finger with your eyes closed as instructed by him, in panic to make him feel something because he’s covered his mark with yet another ribbon too tightly, and in respect because even he himself didn’t want to see the ink.

The same answer when you were teenagers and you’re getting Christmas gifts together and Jungkook just looked too much like your ideal boyfriend with the way he’s lining up for you on the counter and is watching over all the items, pulling you closer every now and then when the prospect of losing you to the crowd gets higher with every rush.

The same answer now while you’re passing the time on his bed as he’s hunched over his desk, a harmless question included randomly into your series of sleep-induced curiosity; the question of why he doesn’t want to know about his soulmate, asked in the same breath of casualness to whether Jungkook preferred his rice better cooked with too much water or too less of it, or if he’d go home for the holidays with presents already prepared.

“Is that a kink?” you scrunch your nose at his unwavering consistency, knowing you would’ve liked it for any other situation besides this.

Jungkook breathily laughs, shrugging his shoulders carelessly as if the two of you are talking about the weather and he’s admitted that it’s been years since he’s last looked at a forecast willingly.

“I don’t wanna know, really. I still breathe without knowing who they are.”

The way he says it is easy, no underlying malice indicated in his tone at all. He says it in the way as if he’s been asked this a hundred times and his response is natural and well-lived, not once changing.

“I don’t believe in fate.”

Hurt doesn’t even explain half the pain in your chest all this time but in this light with the way you’re simply asking him why he doesn’t want a soulmate, why he doesn’t want you by extension — it’s only an ache.

It’s only an ache that pacifies on your bones instead of gnawing on them. It’s drawn-out yet dull, the pain not striking you enough to the point that you even hum at him to elaborate.

“Because what if I don’t end up loving them? What if the one I end up loving isn’t the one the universe apparently destined for me?” Jungkook goes on, lips in a slight pout. “Love doesn’t have initials.”

You sink further into his pillow, playing with your fingers yet retaining your gaze on him.

“You don’t have to love your soulmate.”

Read: you don’t have to love me.

Additionally: you don’t have to love me because having you in this platonic way atleast gives me the semblance that you love me even by a fraction, but if you love me in the same way I love you, it’d be nice.

“You say that now to make me believe in them,” he snorts, twirling a pen between his fingers with a genuinely curious gaze, “but what happens if you aren’t the one they want?”

You haven’t been doing anything and yet you still stop in your tracks, the question echoing in your mind as you repeat his query out loud.

“What happens if your soulmate doesn’t want you?”

What does happen?

You don’t die. You don’t puke flowers.

There’s no catch to it. There’s no grand consequence to having your soulmate not want you.

It makes you think once of your present situation and rethink twice of every decision you’ve ever made beforehand when your ring finger was still plain and devoid of his initials; when the only person you’ve made plans with and for isn’t just yourself, when it wasn’t him.

Jungkook doesn’t want you.

What’s supposed to happen to you?

“I need you to stop zoning out and help me make this essay!” he whines demandingly and it’s the last thing that pulls you out of your thoughts, sitting up straighter.

“If you start asking now, I can actually start helping you, y’know?”

Jungkook’s in STEM while you’re a literary major, the obvious exchange of help being convenient, yet the only difference is that when you make him answer your worksheets, you don’t wait until it’s three hours before the supposed deadline.

He’s giddy now that he’ll get to finish his last assignment due, eyes scanning back to the instructions because his attention span’s already been spent looking at his phone.

“What's love to you?"

You freeze at the abruptness but you move on just as quick as you were surprised, remembering that it’s just the guideline for an essay and not the turning point you’ve expected it to be for a split second.

“How do you want me to answer that?

You ask lightly, humorously even, as you stand up from his bed, running a hand through your hair and working the knots of out of your neck before you get to work.

“I want you to answer it in the sense that I have a paper about love due tomorrow. At 12:00 in the morning.”

“Why?” Jungkook giggles additionally, nudging you with a shit-eating grin and a playful glint on his eyes. “How would you have wanted to answer that?”

“Nothing else,” you smile faintly, scooting him to out of his seat and switch positions so he could sit on his bed while you type for him at his desk. “I’m answering it in the sense that you would be lost without me.”

“Are you sure about that?”

It’s only meant to be a tease but it hits home nonetheless. Maybe it’s because you’re in your soulmate’s room underneath his lights and you’re visible to him. Maybe it’s because your mark pulses just ever so slightly underneath your ring, irritated and itchy underneath the silver as much as you feel hurt.

“Lost without me in the sense that you’d fail your subject if I don’t help you with your essay now."

( ♡ )

Anyone who’d meet Jungkook for the first time is likely to think of three things.

He looks clean. Handsome in a way that he looks effortless even if he wears the same oversized black shirt every guy wears outside, enough to garner second glances for himself. He’s tidy in the facet that he looks like he takes care of himself but not vain, far from annoying prep kids he scoffs at.

Jungkook looks rich and is rich. His family doesn’t come from generational wealth and yet they thrive from their own holdings, learning early-on that they owned a cottage near the beach and rented it out as they moved next-door, and the next thing you know is that at present, they own multiple properties and ventured out into food business that make absolute bank.

He carries himself with the stature that he knows what he’s doing, back sometimes slouched but dignified nonetheless, the air of importance surrounding him. Jungkook was raised in comfort but he’s humble, that much you’d bet your whole life into believing. He was the type to have pocket money whenever he goes out but he spends it in the same way you do, calculating his expenses mentally as if the bills in his wallet wouldn’t pay for the video games he’d want and even have some change afterwards.

He’s aware in the sense that he doesn’t forget where he comes from, admitting to you numerous times that his family having much disposable income sometimes bothers him. Jungkook thinks there’s an itch behind his ear whenever his dad proposes to eat at a five-star restaurant for dinner; that there’s a guilty pout on his face when his mom takes the initiative to buy him new sets of clothes because his shirts look too lived-in, even if he knows to himself that his wardrobe needed a change.

He’s down-to-earth and it reminds you of the way he’d forego all of his Fisher-Price toys just to try and plead to you if he could borrow your hand-me-down stuffies from your older siblings. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon are nothing but humble in the same way that they raised their child, despite the fact that in rare times, they have the taste for the finer things in life.

Mrs. Jeon’s beyond generous during the holiday seasons and you recall her gifting your mother the expensive casserole you’d catch her looking at in adoration whenever both your families had dinners, customized to her favorite color and attached with a heartfelt letter from Jungkook’s mom. Mr. Jeon practically adores your dad and looks up to him like a younger brother would, always taking him to fishing trips just and buying two pairs of the same things so the two of them could match.

Jungkook was raised-well and if it’s even possible at this point, he gets much more endearing in your eyes.

“Why would I not walk you home? We live together, if you haven’t realized.”

He says it when he sees you in campus as he drops everything to walk you home, even if your shared apartment isn’t his destination for the time being. He goes out of his way to ensure that if you stay home while he goes about his plans, there should be food in the fridge and cupboards that you’d actually like. He’d lock the door and try to budge it open from outside, and once he’s assured enough that it remains secured, he’d go about his routine of texting you to call him if you need him.

“You can have mine. I’m full anyway.”

Jungkook says it whenever the two of you end up ordering new items from menus and you end up liking your dish, offering you his plate nonchalantly. He insists that it just tastes average for him, and if he sees you hesitating on stealing some from his portion, he’d go as far as telling you that it tastes horrible so you wouldn’t feel guilty.

“Look! My mom sent you these! I told her you liked them.”

He calls you over every time his family’s goodies for him for the month arrives at the mail, laying the package on the floor as he waits for you to unbox it with him because he knows just how much you like going through things and organizing them. Mrs. Jeon always made sure to include something specifically meant for you in Jungkook’s box — whether it’s the family-sized portion of your recent cravings or your favorite hair treatment in bulk.

“Hey, wanna go on a drive with me?”

He asks you whenever he sees you too absorbed and frustrated in your studies in conjunction with whatever work gig you have at the time, heart panging to see you struggling to take care of yourself because he knows you have the tendency to try and finish everything as fast and as good as you could, not stopping even at personal circumstances. He’d simply put your pair of house slippers on the floor for you to wear, pull you up by your armpits to urge you to come with him, and he’d just drive. Would go through a drive-thru and take off from there, not pressuring you to open up to him at whatever cost.

Jungkook can’t sense you in the same way you do, like a soulmate would, but he cares for you in the way that he can tell when you don’t feel like functioning at all and you’re shutting down; you’re shutting even him off and that’s when he knows that something’s bothering you to no end even if he can’t decipher what is it.

Whatever’s in his power, Jungkook sits next to you, lies on top of you, and does almost everything to invade your personal space whenever you shut down — just because he doesn’t want to give up on you like how you do with him.

If anyone were to meet Jungkook for the first time, they’d know he’s uniquely himself.

He cleans up extremely good as he wears a suit to the grand opening of his family’s café, a dream of her mother ever since she was a teenager that became fully-realized and he can’t be any more happier seeing his parents content.

He greets people left and right with genuine happiness to see all of them ecstatic and supportive, eagerly shaking their hands with a full smile on his face. He draws everyone in effortlessly as if he’s inertia itself, well-aware that it can’t only possibly be you that looks at him with this much reverence.

There’s a red string of pull and you feel it when Jungkook stumbles on his feet on his way to you, feeling your body being slightly tugged downwards but you pull yourself up just as quick, playing it off by pretending that there’s a speck of dirt on your shoes.

He’s been looking for you for the past five minutes because it’s his mother’s fault that she wanted two floors for their café and it’s packed immediately on opening, pointing at you eagerly as he weaves through people. “There you are!”

It’s not your first time meeting Jungkook but you feel the same three things each time, heart swelling in size in familiarity of the person who inhabits it the most.

Jungkook giddily laughs and takes his position beside you, slinging an arm around your shoulders and making conversation with your parents for the umpteenth time, your head instinctively bending to lean against him. He looks every bit the part of the person you love the most in this world, despite being unsure if you even deserve to in the first place. He looks every bit of the guy that makes you realize you can’t deal with having anyone else’s initials on your finger, the words slipping out of you naturally.

“You look like someone’s first love.”

( ♡ )

You’re flawed.

You’re flawed and you don’t need anyone to tell you so in order to give yourself a wake-up call.

You’re flawed in a way because you feel dumb being so lovestruck and devoted with little to no point of salvation. You pride yourself in not being selfish but you’d be lying if you say don’t once hope that Jungkook would look at you in the way that you do. Every now and then would you feel the urge to demand from him insistently every second of the day that he should love you. That he owes you atleast that for the years you’ve spent helplessly trying to put him first rather than your own sanity.

But it feels wrong. It is wrong.

Jungkook doesn’t owe you anything and you know that much.

He doesn’t owe you anything and you shouldn’t expect for him to pay attention to you even if you’re his designated driver for the night, celebrating the end of the stressful semester by unwinding at a club.

He doesn’t owe you an explanation when you see him not fending off the countless girls that go up to him and get their hands on whatever they could; doesn’t owe you an apology when you see him leaning down fondly to kiss someone who isn’t you — someone who isn’t his soulmate.

You would’ve been alone in your booth and the club in general (your soulmate’s out of the equation because he looks like he’s in a different realm entirely) if not for Hoseok, someone who’s perhaps your second best friend right after Jungkook.

It’s merely a coincidence that the both of you are here at the same time, him being the one to easily spot you as he weaves himself in your company seamlessly because he’s been meaning to escape all his frat brothers who annoy him more these days.

“I have something to say to you.”

Hoseok breaks into your worrisome silence, beckoning you over even if the two of you are sat right next to each other with your shoulders bumping.

“No. no. Come closer,” he insists and it makes you roll your eyes at what he could be playing at this time, indulging him by putting the side of your face right against his playfully.

Hoseok’s even more rational and realistic than you could be. In fact, he’s followed your gaze the entire night and he wonders how you haven’t grown tired. He knows about your helpless pining for your soulmate who doesn’t even want to know about you nor your existence, and all he can do is watch.

“You’re insane if you think this whole thing wouldn’t end up anything but extremely painful.”

His words are in a harsh whisper but it feels as if he’s yelled at you right to your ear, making you flinch away from his softly with a defeated pout on your face.

His words come out of nowhere but the rational part of you, the one that disappears whenever you’re vulnerable in this state longing after Jungkook, already knew that you’ve had this coming for a long time.

Hoseok doesn’t sugarcoat his words and it’s what you need almost all of the time. He’s harsh and unforgiving and it reminds you that you have a friend who isn’t Jungkook — someone who isn’t as gentle or kind; someone who grounds you rationally whenever you get too far up your head.

“Let me live, Hobi.”

“What you’re doing isn’t living, Y/N.”

He thinks for a second that he’s being too harsh but he realizes that maybe, just maybe, you need the truth no matter how cruel it could be. He figures that maybe you’d need someone to call you out instead of pitying you over what they could clearly see. “Tell me,” he murmurs, crossing his arms as he looks at you whose eyes are avoiding his gaze.

“Do you live for yourself first?” he nudges you by the shoulder, lightly tapping your ring with his finger. “Or do you live for Jungkook?”

Do you live for yourself first,

or do you live for Jungkook?

You’re dead silent and it’s the type that Hoseok doesn’t want to hear, mumbling to yourself before leaning to his neck to sniff whatever remnant he has on.

“God, what are you on?” you’re deflecting and you know it, cracking your knuckles at the process. “Let me have a hit of it.”

“I’m serious over here.”

Hoseok sees right through you and you feel like crying, recognizing the familiar solemn look on his face because like everyone else who has even the faintest idea of your situation, he pities you.

“And I’m telling you this as someone who cares for you,” he lightly swipes underneath your eyes that are welling up with tears before they even get to fall, effectively prying them out. “Let go of him while you still can.”

“How do I do that?”

You’re breathless in exhaustion but it’s not as if you’ve done anything physically strenuous to be in such a state. You haven’t done anything but it feels as if the wind is knocked out of your lungs and it doesn’t come back to you even if your sail blows.

“How do I do that if Jungkook asks me what do I want for dinner?” there’s trepidation underneath your tone and Hoseok recognizes it, the tremble in your fingers visible even if you have them clenched. “How do I do that if he holds my hand when we cross the street and shields me in crowds?”

“How do you expect me to do that when he calls my parents on weekends and tells them that he’ll always look out for me?”

You’re not scared of letting Jungkook know but rather, you’re scared of your inevitable fall. You’re not scared of the white hot pain you anticipate to feel when the moment finally comes that he says it straight to your face that he doesn’t love you; you’re scared of what happens to the two of you after and what’s left of it.

“How do you expect me to stop loving Jungkook when he acts like he loves me back?”

“He doesn’t.”

“And I know that.”

You’re flawed in the way that you’re self-aware. That you’re painfully mindful of your own emotions and multitudes. You hate that you’re as logical as you are emotional and for once, you just wish you didn’t know better.

You wish that you’re insensitive and reckless. You wish you were more cunning in the sense that you disregard Jungkook completely and stop at nothing to try and get him to look your way with a different gaze.

You wish that you’re anyone but yourself, someone who’s deserving of Jungkook.

“What do I do now, Hobi?” you lean into him because you can’t support yourself and he knows it, the weight of your heart being heavier than your head on his shoulder.

You’re flawed because you suppress a coo at the back of your throat when Jungkook stumbles over to your booth and immediately wraps his arms around you, drunken babbles leaving him as it’s a sign for you to take him home.

You’re flawed because you hear your soulmate speak as you bid goodbye to Hoseok for the night, only smiling when you hear his words. It’s a pain that doesn’t encompass you, rather, it’s a pain that’s hot enough to burn your flesh yet just warm enough to quell the pain in your bones.

“You're my best, best friend in every universe. Y’know that?” he hiccups, eyes completely glazed and rubbed raw as he looks at the side of your face while you haul him to your car. “I hope you know that.”

( ♡ )

Your door opens up before you even realize it.

Actually, Jungkook opens your door before he even realizes it.

He’s woken up in a rush with a single text from his dad that they’re coming over to visit and normally it wouldn’t bother him. Waking up abruptly in the morning isn’t a problem to him and so is making a game plan in cleaning everything up to make sure it’s spotless to his mother’s standards.

What is a problem is that when he entered the bathroom to brush his teeth without a shirt on, he sees the reflection of his hickies from the night before glaring right at him.

However, what an even bigger problem than that is when he tries to wake you up by knocking on your door with the pleads of helping him cover his marks up, it automatically opens when he twists the knob.

“Y/N, no! Why’s your door unlocked?”

His eyes widen in panic and worry, wondering why it wasn’t even locked in the first place. Better yet, has it never been locked ever since? When he leaves you alone in the apartment, do you go out of your way to unlock the main door that he secures closed on the way out?

“And why aren’t you even moving out of bed when someone’s inside your room? What if it isn’t me? What if it’s someone else who did the exact things I did?”

Jungkook’s more worried than he is mad even if his tone’s jittery, hands on his hips as his mind makes up for the whole nine yards. Seriously, does he regard your safety more than you do with your own? Leaving your door open is beyond unsafe. Were you being more forgetful these days? Does he not look over you enough?

You’re oblivious to his panicked state as you burrow yourself deeper into your sheets, eyes remaining peacefully closed because it doesn’t surprise you anymore when he suddenly inserts his presence into your vicinity.

“But it’s you,” you sleepily mumble, half-coherent with the way you hug your pillow closer. “Aren’t you the one who kept knocking at my door?”

He scoffs because you do make a point even if he refuses to admit it, but it just ticks him in a way that you regard his concern for you so lightly. “That’s different and-…”

“And now you’ve opened it yourself and invited yourself into my room.”

“Yeah and that’s okay because it’s me!” he gestures out but he forgets that you’re not even looking at him, unaware of how he looks genuinely upset and worried at the moment. “But what if it was someone else, hm?”

“Like who, an intruder?” you suggest even if you don’t know where this conversation is taking you, your careless words leaving you before you even realize because you don’t have half the realization to think about them deeper. “You’ll protect me if there is one, right?”

Jungkook freezes in his tracks and he suddenly feels no point in trying to berate you further, the stark suggestion that was only meant to be light-hearted painting him a grave image he wasn’t even trying to conjure, trying not to snowball for the worst possible scenario.

He should always be there for you, that much he knows.

“Fucking idiot, of course I would,” he huffs that you even doubt his prioritization for you and it makes you snort because you clearly hear it, turning to face the other side as you make no move in shooing him away and instead try to go back to sleeping. “But starting now, promise me you’ll lock your doors and wake up immediately when someone knocks, alright? You hear me?”

“Hmm.”

“Cross your heart on it,” he says it out of habit even if he knows you wouldn’t do it anyway, sitting on the vacant side of you bed as he tries to shake you awake. “Anyways, I need a favor from you.”

It’s never been lost on you that unlike every other time, Jungkook wouldn’t willingly come to you this early into the night without needing something from you for his own benefit. You don’t get your hopes up that perhaps this time, he comes to your bed just to hold you in warmth amongst his embrace because it’s something only a fever nap could do for you; clearly not sick enough to see that image.

“What do you need me for now?” your eyes start blinking open as you shift to look straight up at the ceiling, casting a glance on Jungkook who has a sheepish pout on his face.

“Please cover up my hickies. I’m begging you."

You don’t even flinch once and he’s nervous at how it seems like you didn’t even hear what he said, prompting to explain himself further. “Mom and Dad are visiting and they’re already on the way.”

You’re used to this.

There shouldn’t be any surprise factor to know that the time Jungkook wakes you up outside for the purpose of not making you late to your classes or to your errands, it would be for his sake. He wakes you up for the sake of himself, asking of you to cover up his hickies because he’s ever the angel to his parents and he can’t do it himself.

Jungkook wakes you up for you to see marks that link him to another woman, even if it’s just for a night, while he covers up the only marks he has of you on his finger and he doesn’t even know it, completely devoid of the only linking thing you have with him.

“Get me my makeup bag.”

He immediately knows where it is and he manages to mumble out a rushed thanks, sprinting back to where you lay. In fact, you have a separate concealer in Jungkook’s shade already that you don’t even need to turn the light on to know it’s a perfect match.

You sit up lazily and cover up his hickies like it’s routine. You see him everyday as he belongs to everyone but yourself, and the physical proof of it doesn’t hurt you as much as you expected it to be.

He lays down on your lap and neither of you talk.

You skim past the hues of pink and purple on his neck as if you were born simply to see them on your soulmate’s neck, as if you were conditioned all your life to be the one to cover up hickies on Jungkook’s skin as your sole purpose. You do the process of covering it up over and over again until you get rid of the marks that remind him he isn’t yours at all, right until he sits up to admire your handicraft.

“Woah, it’s like it wasn’t even there! This is so-“

“Now get out.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he gets whiplash from your hostile tone, but he probably chalks it up to you being sleepy, him interrupting your rest, and you desperately wanting to get back to it.

He’s out of your room to now clean up the entire place but your tone doesn’t leave him still, making him sigh out loud while he tries not to overthink it.

You’re just sleepy.

You’d never get mad at him.

Jungkook’s eyes blink once, twice as he resumes wiping down the counters, slower and more thoughtful this time.

You’d never get mad at him, right?

( ♡ )

The day is slow and so is the pain in your heart.

You can’t put a finger on it exactly, but being with Jungkook in any other form besides a soulmate doesn’t hurt you as much nowadays. The hurt is there but it’s never really left anyway. The vacuum in the shape of Jungkook from within you has been there for so long that the hurt you feel seems like a routine at this point.

You look for him in the way when there’s a misplaced decoration on the shelf; a single magazine missing amongst a row of books. You look for it, but you come to accept it. You don’t look for Jungkook in the way when you realize that an heirloom is missing from your possession and you tear around the whole place to seek it.

Having Jungkook away from your grasp feels as normal as you have him within yours platonically, the two weighing the same amount of harrowing.

“I have an idea,” Jungkook proposes to you over the couch when he’s shouldered dinner and it’s just yet to arrive, passing the time by being around you even if your attention isn’t on him. “What if you look at my soulmate mark?”

You’ve only been endlessly scrolling through your feed and as much as you expected Jungkook to bother your silence with one conversation or another, you didn’t think it’s be this.

Rarely does it cross your mind nowadays that you’re soulmates before you’re best friends turned roommates. In fact, not once did you wander about him today and admittedly in realization, it scares you before it relieves you.

“What for?”

“Shit and giggles, I think,” he replies with much amusement but the determination in his eyes tell you that he’s more than insistent. “Don’t tell me about it though. Don’t tell me even a single clue.”

You will yourself to look back at your phone, to ignore him as if he hasn’t said the stupidest yet simultaneously brightest proposal he’s ever given you because it’s too sudden. You’ve waited for years but now that Jungkook’s asking you to look at his mark in behalf of him, simply for shit and giggles, you worry that it’s too sudden. Too early. That the moment you’ve waited for years is too abrupt and now you’d rather wait for another lifetime for it.

“What’re you doing this for?”

You repeat the question again but you’re equally as serious the first time around, seeing his brows furrow because he feels like you’ve changed the atmosphere without him knowing.

“I suddenly got curious.”

“You don’t get curious.”

“I know, I just get easily influenced,” Jungkook sheepishly admits, scratching the back of his head because it seems to him that you’re cornering him and shutting him down for no reason at all. He doesn’t necessarily know why he feels intimidated by you, but it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try to ease the tension by explaining himself. “Remember when I asked you to cover up my hickies last week?”

“What about it?” your eyes narrow in genuine wonder, prompting you to think just how long Jungkook’s been meaning to ask you this.

“You weren’t wearing a bra that time.”

The words tumble out of Jungkook’s mouth continuously and he only has the mind to look embarrassed by it when you sputter out loud, averting his gaze to suppress a laugh,

“Jungkook-!” your pupils dart wildly, appalled and embarrassed at the same time when you defensively cross your arms across your chest even if what he’s pertaining to has long been finished. “Of course I wasn’t wearing a bra! It was 5 AM and I was still asleep when you kept knocking on my door!”

“And I wasn’t looking!” he defends himself with a laugh, head automatically shaking as he tries to reach out to you but you only swat him away. “I just glanced once because I realized it but I didn’t look again, I swear!”

“Well sometimes, you should keep your mouth shut!” you squeak, rolling your eyes as you try to get away from his further by moving to the opposite end of the couch. “I would’ve been able to live in peace without knowing you saw my boobs through my shirt.”

“It’s normal! Just like you seeing me without a shirt! We live together, stupid. It was bound one way or another,” he argues, earning yet another frustrated groan from you.

You power through the embarrassment because you’d look like such a sore loser if you walk away from him now, hiding your face to a throw pillow as Jungkook gathers his wits while he tries to get closer to you, abandoning his spot on the other end of the couch.

“Not only weren’t you wearing a bra-”

“Watch it,” you seethe when he gets close enough for you to flick his forehead harshly, earning a whine from him in the midst of laughing as he gets choked up.

His cheeks are tinted pink and it’s clear he can’t breathe well with how much he’s entertained, clearing his throat a few times and having to look away from you because your face alone apparently sends him into a fit of giggles.

You think this is the end of it. You think Jungkook’s effectively forgotten about his previous proposal and you’d be able to end the night with a good dinner and no confrontations at all, but your expectation gets spoiled as soon as you started hoping.

“You weren’t wearing your ring too.”

Your heart drops before you even get to digest all of the words, the hurt hitting you before the impending realization.

“W-what?”

Jungkook’s face twists in worry to see you so shaken up when he barely did anything, certain that you wouldn’t look this pale over a few minutes of teasing and banter. He tilts his head at you and it prompts you to straighten up and fix the worry in your features, good enough for him to continue.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t look. Besides, your mark was turned away from me the entire time because you were dabbing on my neck and I was getting sleepy while you did it,” he shrugs carelessly and it’s the first time you could physically feel the relief in your shoulder that melts all away the tension, the feeling so fluid that it feels warm.

“It was still dark too,” he adds in recollection, a faint smile on his face as he gestures to you and motions at your chest vaguely. “All I saw were just like… peaks and shadows.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jungkook,” you snap but there’s no real bite to it. In fact, it even sounds sweet but he doesn’t know how to read between the lines and therefore nestles to your side in rising worry.

“I’m sorryyy,” he drawls out and the moment he feels you pat his nape with your confirmation that it’s okay and doesn’t really matter in the first place, he springs up back to his straight posture against the cushions of the couch, an eager smile evident.

“Anyways, that’s why you have me wondering what’s underneath my ring,” he connects seamlessly, obviously unaware of the way you’ve tensed up beside him. “Now come on, it’s okay! Think of this as me making it up to you. You can go look.”

Jungkook turns his position on the couch to face you, his left hand raised right in front of you and he’s laughing with unknown nerves, the feeling being akin to being tickled because he anticipates it fully, but the sensation feels different every time.

Your mouth dries when you’re faced with the same signet ring that you wear yourself, right on Jungkook’s digit. The shiny silver stares back at you in the eye and you can’t take your gaze away from it, the familiar piece of jewelry looking more unrecognizable the longer you look at it.

You don’t know what you expect from it when he teasingly starts to pull his ring up without any big movements to reveal the ink that’s underneath, but as much as you don’t know what you want to see, the trepidation blooms fully in your chest for you to have the mind in stopping him.

“Don’t.”

Jungkook’s confused and shocked to why you suddenly refused, recalling that just two seconds ago, you were all for his fun little proposal but now you’re no longer on-board.

He’s familiar with the conflict in your eyes, he just doesn’t recognize what’s it supposed to be. He sees the cracks of your hurt, he just doesn’t know the focus of it,

“Why not?” he frowns, genuinely curious to see you avoiding his gaze.

“I shouldn’t be the first one to see it.”

“I trust you, though.”

It’s what hurts all the more because he trusts you to see the initials of what would lead him to his soulmate, to you, but not in looking at you face-to-face for you to become the very thing he doesn’t want.

“Maybe next time, Jungkook.”

The mood is somber and he doesn’t know what to make of it besides the fact that you worry him deeply, bending downwards to have a glance at your face. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

He looks down on his ring but now he suddenly feels off-put looking at it, obscuring his mark that makes him curious.

“Does it have to do with your own soulmate not wanting you?” he jokes around lightly to ease the mood and if only he knew that he’s hurting you right where it hurts, he would’ve shut his mouth int the first place.

You’re bitter, harshly biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from crying, voice straining as you try to bring back the playful atmosphere.

“I’ll have you know, I’m easy to love, Jungkook. Try it sometime."

He giggles right to your face — laughs at your hurt, right to your vulnerability and the little pride you have left.

“Silly,” Jungkook ruffles your hair in much amusement, eyes crinkling in giddiness because you’ve bounced back from the minor inconvenience in his eyes just as quick. “I can’t love you.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook’s family has a new house.

What’s different this time is that the house they had built isn’t for business purposes to be occupied by long-time tenants nor short-term guests. The spacious three-floored house is wide in technicality but it feels quaint and warm with all the furniture and personality inside it. Most vacation houses and cottages they had built are neutral, the life of the space completely dependent on its future inhabitants. But this house of theirs is clearly their own, the evidence of the three-member family visible from floor to ceiling.

Your family’s at the top of the guest list for their housewarming and it’d be a lie to say that you don’t feel fold seeing your parents and older siblings’ reaction to the welcome that the Jeon family gives. They’re nice hosts with the way they usher their visitors to the catering tables but they’re even more warm and familial with the way they give you your plates themselves, taking you by the arm as they tour your family around their house way ahead of everyone.

Mr. Jeon gushes to your dad how they have a pond out back and invites him to accompany him next week to buy fish for their deck, Jungkook’s dad insisting that he drives the two of them and they can go for street food right after.

Jungkook takes pride in touring around your mom and your older siblings by proudly introducing them to the other visitors, all along the lines of how you’re all basically like family ever since they’ve moved in next door to your family, their humble beginnings in the form of their original house where they started from scratch.

You stand meekly by the corner, against one of the towering pillars as you watch everyone interact with each other. One thing about the Jeon family is that they’re just the type of successful no one could ever be bitter of because they’re immensely kind and genuine, not a trace of bitterness being seen in any of the faces you see.

You know the last thing you should be feeling at the moment is displacement because as far as you knew, your family’s the talk of the household right after the hosts’. You should know out of all people that you belong in this environment that’s nothing short of familial and supportive, but it’s unavoidable.

It’s unavoidable because you see exactly why Jungkook doesn’t need you.

It’s inevitable to feel out of place because in yet another house that serves as a home for Jungkook, you realize why he finds no need nor significance in having a soulmate because he has everything he needs and more.

He has everything that completes him and balances him perfectly. He stands on his own two feet and is able to be happy without knowing who the universe has assigned for him. He lives and breathes without knowing you and it’s perfectly okay.

It’s perfectly okay for him to not want you and only live for himself because he doesn’t owe you at all.

Jungkook doesn’t owe you the love that you give him and that’s perfectly okay.

Everything should be perfectly okay because he is and yet you don’t know why your eyes are downcast despite everyone else around moving on without you. No one owes you anything and you should know better than to even voice the tiniest bit of sentiments you’ve been repressing all this time because the hurt you feel should only be yours.

All the while, you’re oblivious to how you’ve gained the attention of the woman who knows Jungkook the most before you.

“It’s Jungkook, isn’t it?”

Mrs. Jeon stands before you and your eyes flit to hers in an instant, pupils trembling to see what she could possibly mean.

You think you could salvage the pitiful situation she’s caught you in because of course, there’s no possible way that she could know, right? Even your own family doesn’t know of the initials that are inked on your finger and they’re your own flesh and blood. If anything, they should be the one who’d figure it out first.

The lie you were supposed to tell her gets caught in your throat because from her gaze alone, the same gaze you receive when Hoseok speaks you the truths you always try and make excuses for, you know that she knows.

Mrs. Jeon sees right through you before Jungkook and the realization crosses her face that the two of you only stand parallel.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, the dots connecting in her head much faster even if it’s years worth of all her intuitions, the gravity of it only hitting her now. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

You quickly shake your head even if she holds your hands in hers, her eyes wide and glassy to see her son’s soulmate in this light. She’s always treated you as a daughter and at first, she thought it’s because she only has a son. That maybe it’s because Jungkook’s an only child and she’s always wanted a daughter figure in her life. That maybe, she just happens to love you more than any of the daughters her friends have because she’s known you the longest.

She feels so remorseful that she should’ve listened to her instincts more and not just glaze over the fact that perhaps, you were her son’s soulmate. She feels that maybe she could’ve protected you better by saying that sooner or later, Jungkook would outgrow his phase of sleeping around.

She’s not blind to see the makeup that covers her son’s neck whenever she comes over, no matter how seamless it is. However, she’s blind enough to not see that it’s you all this time and how you’ve been hurting far longer than you should’ve.

“But what about you? What happens to you?”

“I’ll be okay, mom.”

She told you to call her that, much like how your mother insisted that Jungkook calls her that too. You reassure her endlessly that she shouldn’t feel sorry at all because it’s no one’s fault, and if it’s anyone whose blame should befall on, it should be you.

“Why did it have to be you?” her lip blubbers and it reminds you of her son, seeing her clench her eyes at the second wave of realization that you must be so hurt beyond salvation. “Oh god, I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You don’t deserve the apology but hearing it makes you awed, your own tears welling at your eyes because for once, even if it’s the person you’ve least expected to say it to you, you feel seen. You feel remorse and pity without being looked down on; something you haven’t been able to experience in a long time.

“You deserve someone better than Jungkook.”

She looks up as if it would resolve anything. Mrs. Jeon looks like she’s begging for the universe to befall and it catches you off-guard with how she’s hugging you so tightly.

If she prayed to the universe for a short second, then the universe must’ve loved her enough to grant whatever it is that she wished for. The universe doesn’t befall on you but rather, it marches up to you with a furrow in his brow and his jaw clenched.

“What do you mean better than me?”

Jungkook didn’t mean to eavesdrop in the first place but he couldn’t hold himself back from inserting himself into the conversation that two of the most important women in his life were having, thinking it would be something he’s familiar with given the way the two of you looked shellshocked at each other.

“What are you talking about?”

He harshly whispers and neither of you meet his desperate gaze, not one bit of reassurance trying to confirm nor deny what he had just heard. He looks at his mother clutching your hands, thumb particularly rubbing your signet ring like how she would with a wound to soothe.

The realization and the heaviness that come with it are unlike no other.

“In my room now.”

Jungkook seethes as he doesn’t wait for an answer, pulling you desperately upstairs. He’s fuming even if his grasp on your wrist is gentle. He’s furious at you even if he nudges you inside his room, closing the door behind him firmer than he’d ever think of.

“Jungkook-“

“You are so fucking evil.”

What you could only see at the surface is that he’s mad, the maddest you’ve ever seen him. You don’t know if he’s mad at you directly but you feel the bite of his words nonetheless, catching you in surprise that you stutter.

“W-what?”

His expression can’t be gauged and neither can he discern what he feels. All he feels is that he’s in the dark and he’s disoriented with how blinding the light is that’s focused on him now, voice turning hoarse with how overwhelmed he feels.

“How long have you known? How long were you lying to me, huh?” he has his hands on his hips, looking at you as if he’s never seen you before and all he knows is that he’s angry at you. It feels like he doesn’t know you besides the outline of you that blindsides him. “How many people know that it’s me? How did it happen that my mother knew that I’m your soulmate before I did?”

You’re mad at him too. You’re angry at him because he speaks down to you in the way as if he doesn’t know you and all you’ve done to him is hurt him when not once did you betray him to be treated hostile as such. All you’ve done is give and it feels like Jungkook’s asking you to give him the satisfaction of being angry at you, one that he feels entitled to.

“I didn’t let you know because you didn’t want to. You’ve said it yourself a hundred times!”

“How would I have known that my fucking soulmate was standing in front of me the whole time?” he raises his voice, eyes widening. “Almost my whole life, Y/N! You knew and you didn’t even question my beliefs once?”

“And I know you don’t love me for almost as long as my whole life too. Even if I told you, it wouldn’t have made a difference. You wanted to be free and I let you!”

He scoffs, throwing his head back to mock you. He’s never the one to cry when arguing but the frustration wells up in his eyes because it all feels too much.

“So now you’re holding your heroic act against me? You already know how I feel about soulmates. You already know what I don’t feel about you! You could’ve just left and I would’ve understood!”

“No, Jungkook. You wouldn’t have understood,” your finger points at him and you don’t feel the slightest bit of remorse that you’ve offended him. “You wouldn’t have understood because not once were you in my shoes. I didn’t leave you because you didn’t want me to leave!”

Jungkook would make you cross your heart multiple times for you to never leave him. You were older than him by a few months and at one point, Jungkook must’ve looked up to you. He would’ve made you cross your heart to not leave him in the playground as kids and to not leave him to eat alone at lunch as students. He made you cross your heart to not leave him for longer than necessary as roommates, and cross your heart to lock your doors so he’d be able to sleep securely at night that nothing and nobody can harm you.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t have wanted you to leave,” he grits his teeth, looking at you menacingly with stray tears on his cheeks. “But when I said that, I meant that in the sense that you shouldn’t ever leave your best friend.”

“You could’ve left me as a soulmate and I would be okay, Y/N,” Jungkook emphasizes and it’s not lost on you what he’s asking from you now. “But you’re still here! You’re still around me and it’s like you’re expecting me to love you back!”

You’re flawed but you know better than to let Jungkook construct his own truths that the both of you know are lies, persistently shaking your head as your eyes prick in frustration.

“I would never force you to love me back and you know it, Jungkook.”

You mean it with every fiber in your being because it’s tattooed into your mind that he doesn’t owe you anything at all. You love Jungkook simply because you do and you don’t expect it to be requited.

You mean it genuinely when you say that not once have you ever pressured him to love you back but it falls on deaf ears because he goes on, no matter how much you try to get it through his mind.

“I don't have to love you. Goddamn it Y/N, atleast give me a choice here. Don't just chain me to you!"

You resist the urge to grip at your hair as you cry, sobbing frustratedly. His words no longer hurt but what instead hurts you is that he makes you out for someone who isn’t you, the little pride you have left forcing you to stand up for yourself and become rational. “Hey, hey. Listen. Two people can be soulmates and not be in love with each other, y'know? That's possible."

“It’s not-“

“I’m already in love with you, Jungkook! That's the problem!”

You burst as you raise your voice and the little moment of calm gets washed away because Jungkook retaliates even louder, his chest heaving as he points at himself.

“I’m the problem now? You've been begging me all this time to love you back, and now I’m the problem?"

“You're not getting my point, Jungkook!"

“I’m really not getting your point here because you're making it sound like it's my fault that you love me!"

You try to breathe deeply, running your hands through your hair as the words slip out of you. “Maybe it's your fault, have you ever thought about that? You act as if you love me-"

“What the fuck? I’m kind, Y/N. Being kind is different from-"

“Best friends don’t-“

The words get lost on your tongue.

You stop yourself and it’s as if one seed of clarity plants itself in your mind, the sudden silence making Jungkook cease the heaving of his chest as none of you speak a word.

You’re flawed but this is the only time you feel that it’s fine to be as such, figuring that if you want to salvage the tiny bit of whatever compassion you have for yourself, you should no longer try. The tensions melts away from your shoulders and Jungkook feels the way the atmosphere once again changes before he knows it, wide eyes trying to gauge what exactly is happening.

“I’ll stop — cross my heart.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook doesn’t want to lose you.

It’s your university’s semestral break for the holidays and throughout the entire time, you haven’t contacted him.

You don’t contact him even when it’s the day before Christmas and there’s two minutes left on the clock before it’s the 25th.

The two of you are apart this time. You’re in your childhood home while his family stays over in their new vacation house. His parents miss your family beyond measure but they’d overheard your fight and decides that maybe having a different celebration this year, one that’s only the three of them even if it’s not as boisterous and fun being with your household, is for the better.

The wound’s still fresh. The sting’s still there and it’s barely healing.

That’s why Jungkook sends you a quick series of texts before his family feasts without you.

i’m sorry for the things i’ve said, i was really rude

i don’t want to lose you

happy holidays btw, we miss you

see you after break :)

( ♡ )

It’s like it never happened.

It’s like Jungkook didn’t cry himself to sleep and feel extremely lethargic because as soon break was over and the two of you are back into your shared apartment, you act normal.

You act as if nothing changed and it drives him out of his mind for you to be so casual despite everything because it’s like this time, he’s the only who’s affected by the entire situation that’s unfolded. The two of you’ve already exchanged apologies and reassurances that you’d move on collectively but now that he thinks about it, Jungkook never should’ve agreed to move on.

He never should’ve agreed to move on because out of the two of you, you’re the only one who isn’t on a standstill.

He’s distraught that even if it’s the same scenario and scenery before the two of you even blew over, you move on from him faster than he thought you could. Jungkook almost cried himself to sleep when you weren’t home by 9 PM from your classes and you looked genuinely confused to see him pacing by the kitchen, waiting for you to come home.

He feels like he’s losing it by the minute when you wake up by yourself and not without his incessant knocking that you’d be late for class if you stay in bed for a minute longer.

His heart feels like it’s about to break down when you don’t call him over to say hi whenever your parents call you, only getting to hear your conversations through the door as he suddenly feels that he’s excluded from all the things he shares with you.

He reminds himself that he wanted this. He reminds himself that he said he wanted you to leave during his family’s housewarming party, that he then retracts his statement and said he didn’t want to lose you over the holidays, and that all throughout the years he’s been with you — he’s never wanted you.

Jungkook reminds himself that he’s still with you.

He’s still with you, that much he knows.

He just isn’t sure if you’re still with him.

( ♡ )

Jungkook didn’t expect for this to hurt so bad.

He didn’t expect to be so lost into his thoughts that he couldn’t sleep in his room and marches right outside the living room wearing a new pair of socks that he didn’t expect to be this slippery, not registering into his mind that he’s done household chores the whole day to keep his mind preoccupied and that the hardwood floors are squeaky clean with wax.

He didn’t expect that he’d slip and fall on his arm painfully that it makes him wince, groaning at the impact of his body weight crushing his arm and for such a striking pain to travel to his elbow all the way to the tips of his fingers.

Jungkook didn’t expect for it to hurt this much because you don’t come out of your room to help him and he can’t take it, frustrated as he can’t get up that he does nothing but yell out your name multiple times.

All his calls for you effectively summoned you out but you’re more confused than you are panicked, a gasp leaving your lips when you see him lying in pain on the floor.

“What happened to you?” you ask in worry as you try to pull him up without hurting him, making him wince while trying to answer your question nonetheless.

“Huh?” he lets you carry him up to sit him down the couch for the meantime, assessing just how bad his fracture looks like to see if you’d have to drive him to the hospital. “What do you mean? Didn’t you feel the pain?”

Jungkook knows about the red string of pull and his eyes blink twice in confusion because you only realize what he’s talking about belatedly, the genuine confusion in your face making him swallow the lump in his throat.

“Oh. I didn't feel it. There wasn't a pull."

“Stop joking with me."

He clenches his jaw at how you could manage to play with him over such an important matter, even more baffled when you defensively shake your head and even breathlessly laugh.

“I’m not, Kook! I swear, I really didn't."

“Bullshit,” he rolls his eyes casually, deadpanning at you with a gasp emerging from his lips. “You knew I broke my arm and intentionally didn't help me!”

“Jungkook, I swear on my life,” he sees you hold up your hand in the air in a promise, tiny giggles of disbelief leaving you as he genuinely can’t understand where exactly is the humor you find in this.

He purses his lips and tries to look deeper for anything in your eyes that give you away even the slightest bit, pointing at your ring. “Take it off."

He watches intently the way surprise sweeps across your features and he thinks for a second that you’re just lying to him — you wouldn’t really take off your ring because doing so would confirm his hopes that it’s his same initials with the same vivid shade of red, right?

But you do it nonetheless.

Truth be told you’ve only removed your ring once since the incident because you didn’t want to be reminded of whose initials were underneath it, but it surprises you that your compliance gets the better of you and you take it off from him.

Jungkook’s stare falters to see the very thing he’s asked for.

What he could only make out clearly now is the J in the middle of his first and last initial, the two other letters clearly not as prominent. You’re shocked to see the difference from when you last saw your mark, the first J and K by your ring finger fading in contrast.

“You can’t — is this true?” he finds himself swallowing the lump in his throat painfully, taking your finger into his own hands that he barely winces using his other arm, rubbing his thumb against your skin to see if it was just some trick. “Surely you can’t spell my name without the jeon and the kook, right?”

His breathing is too heavy and you don’t speak either. The two of you have heard about this once when you were children from both of your mothers, all blissfully too young and unaware to consider the possibility that it might just happen to the two of you.

“About the mark-…”

“My mom said-…”

The two of you pipe up at the same time but Jungkook lets you go first because even if you haven’t spoken at the same time as he did, he wouldn’t have been able to finish what he was supposed to say.

You say your next words honestly, in a gentle and soft voice but it lands loud and disruptive to Jungkook’s ears, making him want to clamp his ears shut because he refuses to believe.

“It could be because the universe is reassigning me a new soulmate.”

“Y-yeah,” he clears his throat as if it would stop the tears that are threatening to fall on his cheeks, looking down on his lap as he unconsciously hunches on himself. “I remember our moms saying this when we were kids.”

“Mhmm,” you hum in recollection, pointing to him eagerly because the two of you are at the same page. “I asked my mom about a week ago then an hour later, I got put into a groupchat with all the moms of the friends that I have."

Jungkook weakly snorts to match your energy because he’s weak. He’s too weak to raise his head to face how you’re so nonchalant about this and this time, it’s him who’s hurting so badly.

“Everyone's bets are on PJM — Park Jimin! Who would’ve known, right? The J initial makes sense."

Jimin, a family friend of a family friend.

Jimin, the one kid in preschool that always wowed the parents and the teachers because he talks like how a fourth-grader would and knows how to do addition with the carrying.

Jimin, a distant friend who studied abroad for college and whose news broke out that he’s coming back home during his break and plans to settle here in your city.

Jimin, someone who’s theorized to replaced Jungkook.

“Don't even joke about that. I’m serious,” he mumbles under his breath and the croak of his voice gives him away, suddenly standing up from the couch and forgetting about his physical pain entirely, bidding you a quiet good night that he could only know is not something that he’d be getting underneath this dark.

“I’m gonna go to sleep."

( ♡ )

Jungkook wishes that his eyesight wasn’t so clear.

He wishes he didn’t heed his mother’s warnings of not looking at screens for too long too closely and his father’s insistence that he takes his vegetables and vitamins.

He wishes that his vision is poor because in that way, he wouldn’t be able to notice how the silver that’s against your skin looks different; how he couldn’t tell that it’s shine isn’t the same that he’s used to seeing and how it’s no longer the signet ring that looks like the same piece that he wears on your ring finger.

“Did you change your ring?"

He asks you one morning when you’re making breakfast. He memorizes seeing the furrow in your brows and the realization in your face as you look down on your hand, his words clicking into your head in understanding.

“Oh yeah, I did.”

Your ring’s now of a thicker design with intricate details and swirls, the band of it seemingly molded into decorative crosses. It looks heavy and of high-quality and Jungkook’s certain that your ring’s more expensive this time, clueless to where and when you got it.

The groove of the silver reminds him of the letter P, and his mind goes to Jimin’s family name instantaneously — and it makes Jungkook pray that he’d rather have his vision tainted than to ever see it on your skin.

( ♡ )

“Where are you going this early in the morning?”

Jungkook can’t bear to sleep in his bedroom anymore nowadays because it feels to confined, not wanting to be alone with his thoughts and insecurities which is why he chooses to sleep in the living room where it’s open and he has everywhere else to look at besides his ceiling.

He hasn’t even been sleeping well in the first place which is why he’s alert from his shallow nap when your door clicks open and he sees you already bathed and dressed.

“My dad told me to join him fishing,” you answer when you move on from the surprise he’s given you, releasing the hand from your chest as you calm down. “He’s fishing with Jimin’s dad.”

You’re too busy packing snacks that you don’t register how there’s pillows and blankets on the couch because Jungkook sleeps out here nowadays, compared to your assumptions that he’s just gaming or doing his assignments. Your back is turned to him which is why you don’t notice his face that looks crestfallen at your further explanation, heart sinking in thought.

“Oh,” he stabilizes his voice as best as he could, eyes set at the back of your head as he tries not to give himself away. “Would Jimin be there?”

“Not sure. I’ll see when I get there.”

He nods once, biting on his lip as he tries again.

“Is my dad coming with?”

“O-oh,” the realization crosses your mind that your dad’s companion when it comes to fishing and perhaps any other activity is Mr. Jeon, only hitting you now that you haven’t heard the mention of his name. “I honestly don’t know.”

That’s the thing of both your dads and Jungkook aches at the thought if his time is over. If his family’s time is over with yours. If it’s too late and the ink on your finger can no longer be traced back to him.

If it’s still him.

“Drive safe, m’kay? Call me when you need me.”

You don’t approach him for a goodbye hug and he feels too odd to only keep to himself as you leave out the door, not looking back even once.

Call me even if you don’t need me.

The words only remain on his tongue because speaking it out loud is pointless. It’s pathetic to be said out in the open because you aren’t there for him to look like a fool in front of. He looks pathetic as he waits for you.

It’s because you don’t call him throughout the day to ask if he’s already brought out the meat to defrost for his lunch or what he wants for dinner because you’re ordering on the way home. It’s because you don’t tell him to text you repeatedly so you wouldn’t fall asleep in traffic and miss out on your dad’s banter. It’s because even if he doesn’t need anything from you; even if you aren’t willing to give and he’s eager to take —

Jungkook will always need you.

( ♡ )

The pain Jungkook feels in his bones simmers before it bubbles over.

It marinates and lulls into his skin warmly before it stings. It’s a soothing type of heat that he mistakes for tension before it starts to sting. The pain he feels in his heart all the way down to the pit of his stomach stings before it boils and bubbles at his skin.

The pain he feels burns him unlike no other.

It’s the type of hurt he feels that no matter how much he rubs at his skin and cries his eyes out, it doesn’t relieve him even the slightest bit. He doesn’t feel the calmness when he goes through every single thing that used to soothe him before, every chance at salvation only for the pain to burn deeper making him more frustrated than the last.

Jungkook cries his eyes out every night and he thinks he’s exhausted all the tears out of himself because he finds himself knocking on your door, waiting for you to grant him entrance as he keeps his breathing at bay.

It’s late at night when you’re buried into doing your requirements that you tumble out of your chair to open the door for Jungkook, figuring that it must be an emergency with the way his knocks are desperate.

His eyes land on you the moment you open the door for him, words crawling out of his mouth as he pleads.

“Let me kiss you."

He’s no stranger to the confusion in your face and it feels as if nothing from the two of you would surprise each other at this point. He knows you’re tired and busy but he can’t stop himself to just reserve what he feels tonight and save it for the morning.

Your mouth flounders in wonder, closing it when you figure that nothing else would be lost from you.

You let Jungkook kiss you.

You taste as sweet as Jungkook thought for you to be and more and he cries. He cries as you allow him to kiss you for the first time and let him knock his forehead against yours as his cheeks are damp with despair, eyes looking down on your finger instinctively.

You know exactly what he’s looking at and it makes you sigh solemnly, pressing your knuckles against your sheets so he wouldn’t be able to see.

“Jungkook-…”

Jungkook refuses to give up because this time, he interrupts you with an even deeper kiss that you accidentally moan into, lost into your senses by the surprise that it makes your eyes close.

He tastes you deeper and longer and he feels like he can’t breathe, inhales feeling heavier and his exhales being fewer that you have to put a hand on his chest to nudge him away from you, a pitiful look spanning across your eyes that makes him shut his.

“Kissing me harder isn't gonna help.”

His initials on your finger don’t magically turn more vibrant, more alive. He thinks he’s exhausted every single tear he could possibly cry but it’s seemingly not over, sobbing into his hands right in front of you.

“Why are you not freaked out that your mark's disappearing?! It's changing! I-it might not even be me anymore!””

Jungkook sobs brokenly when he used to not be able to even have his voice tremble at your presence. His shoulders hunch and give out and you have no choice but to catch him with your hands, fearing that he’d tumble out of the edge of your bed and fall on the floor.

“I thought you wanted this. I’m not consciously controlling this, Jungkook. It's just the same when you had no control of your mark not appearing on you."

His words haven’t left you but so is the remaining little love you have for him, knowing realistically that a single night of confrontation isn’t enough to undo years of loving.

“It's on me now. I-It's showing up on me, but it's disappearing from you."

His sobs wrack his own body and you think for a moment that he’s about to pass out with how much he coughs from getting choked up, springing more tears into his eyes as he feels like puking.

“You started to accept it when I started revoking it."

You mumble to yourself in realization and what pains him is that he’s heard it loud and clear, crumpling into your figure as you unconsciously realize that your hand soothes his back.

Jungkook cries the most in his lifetime, tucking his face into your shirt as he shakes his head back and forth like it was a nightmare he’s just forced to live out, words repeating over and over again.

“Don't shut me out."

He clings onto you more than he’s ever had.

Jungkook looks for you in everything and tries to weasel his way into every day that passes, not the least bit of embarrassment creeping up to him on how he looks like a fool every time you leave him hanging and alone.

He apologizes to you day and night until you grow tired of him; until you roll your eyes at him to give it a rest and just shut up at that point onwards.

He endures the hurt and the rejection you give him over and over again; not even going up to par with half of the hurt he’s unknowingly given you all this time.

Jungkook knows he’s flawed — but he’s certain that he’s not flawed enough to stop trying.

He wakes up to the morning light and goes to sleep at the evening glow with only the prayer that he becomes better, better enough to be deserving of you and better enough to be someone the universe would shift connections for.

He’s flawed, but not flawed enough to think that you owe him your love, regardless of his efforts.

The days are warmer and the gaps are fuller when there’s an incessant knocking on your door. The lights are softer and the nights are kinder when there’s a figure that wedges itself beside your bed, a quiet hum to his voice.

“I told you to start locking your doors.”

Jungkook feels the tiny exhale of breath that leaves you before it turns into a giggle, hugging your pillow closer.

“But it’s you.”

He smiles.

“But it’s me.”

Jungkook lies next to you a little closer, his arms bigger compared to the last months that he now manages to cage you fully and have his hands be able to cup yours without having to stretch further.

There’s nothing cool to the touch because nowadays, you let your ring finger breathe as much as he lets his own mark to be seen.

“There are three types of love, y’know?” he hums to your ear when he knows you’re just about to be lulled back to your sleep, able to see you clearly in the dark because no matter what light the both if you are underneath in, he only sees you.

“I was your first, right? Jimin's the second, I’m sure,” he breathily laughs, taking away the hair from your nape because he knows that it bothers you. “I can be the third. I-I can be your third love. I’ll work for it."

For only a second too long that it’s quiet, your voice cutting through the air.

“You can't be my third love, Jungkook,” you hum just as long as his heart stops beating. “You're my only love."

Your eyes are still closed when you silently profess the love that’s never left you, oblivious to how Jungkook is as stiff as concrete behind you that you feel his shoulders lose the hurt immediately. “I’ve loved you three times through."

Jungkook could only hope that it’s not the sleep talking.

He knows you’re real beyond anything and anyone. You’re tangible and fragile and he’s come to learn it a thousand times more. “I’ll love you three times more."

For the longest time on end did Jungkook feel that he’s been falling but the impact never comes. He would’ve wanted to feel it either way, but either way, he’d know that it would be fine. That he would be fine. That the two of you will be fine and it’s you who he entrusts to spend all of his infinites with, no matter the hurt.

“I love you more than you'll ever know.”

if it isn’t me

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 4k

glimpse: protecting jungkook with your life is your job — raising his daughter isn't.

alternatively, jungkook's a single dad for the meantime according to his own words, and lowering down his pride will not stop at anything in begging you to help him with things outside of your paygrade.

[ no applicable warnings!! ]

notes: heh just a silly goofy angsty drabble </3 i got sent an ask abt this trope just this morning and after a few hours of frying my brain and getting the urge to write this, here we are now!! tell me what you think :)

Jungkook always tries to handle more than what he could carry.

If there’s a particular thing he’d pride himself in being good in since he was young, it would be multitasking. He’d want to do everything at once simply because he doesn’t want to spend a minute longer than necessary for a task he can wrap up just as quick.

He carries all the groceries in one trip even if the handles of the bags dig onto his palm and leave a sore pink mark. He’d rather put every item he bought into place rather than sitting on the couch for a minute, wanting to everything get over with before he relaxes.

When Jungkook gets ahold of his scripts, he reads and memorizes the current page and subconsciously highlights the other page just by skimming alone.

He multitasks then he packs his gym bag and his daughter’s diaper bag at the same time, the two of them side by side on the bedsheets he’s going to change out anyway. He takes turns grabbing each of their things from their separate closets, the baby’s growing in quantity each day.

Sunhee’s eight months old now and therefore a little more fussy when she wants her milk wherever, a blubber already in her throat even before her dad could soothe her with back rubs.

Jungkook doesn’t know to the highest extent if everything he does as a father to Sunhee is right because he’s still learning — he continues to learn everyday that he’s with her. The unease and insecurity in his ribs never leave but they would calm down when he sees that she’s happy, even if she spends twenty minutes crying over him holding her cereal the wrong way.

Jungkook knows that he’s doing right when he boils water to the right temperature to put in a tiny thermos he bought specifically for her, then scooping in formula to a tiered container that would just require him to pour down the powder before he shakes the bottle, no measuring and fussing needed.

He recalled scouring baby stores twenty minutes before closing with a hood on his head and sunglasses on his face. He wanted to sniff BPA-free milk containers to ensure safety even if it meant looking suspicious, as long as he knows Sunhee would only have the best and he wouldn’t run the risk of being recognized in a baby store of all places.

He knows he’s doing somehow right when he bring Sunhee to his schedules and sits her on his lap as he rehearses his lines. The two of them are together and Jungkook gets to work at the same time.

She’s not exactly a high-maintenance baby, but she immediately notices when her dad gives her kisses on her cheeks and passes her to Seokjin, a scent she’s somehow familiar to at this point. He’s Jungkook’s manager and one of his most trusted confidants, already a brother to him at this point.

Jin handles practically everything for him and protects him to no end, even from his own staff members that look at his niece a second too long. They’re aware — they are aware of Sunhee.

They’re aware of Sunhee and her chunky bread rolls for limbs, so soft and pure under their loving gazes. Knows about her babbles and the words she’s sometimes able to form from only hearing it a couple of times around set.

They know about Sunhee and how her obvious cuteness and prettiness come from two of her parents. Her parents that are on the big-screen despite appearing separately, known for their incomparable talents and charms.

They know about how the world is for her taking but little miss Sunhee doesn’t quite know about it yet, the wideness and shine in her eyes only making them hope that she’d never lose any of those.

Jungkook knows too. Knows all about how only the few select people in his life are aware that he’s a dad and Sunhee is perhaps the most loving baby there is. He’s thankful to say the least, seeing how if he decides to try and not handle more than what he could carry, there’d be people looking for both him and Sunhee.

Yet if there’s just one particularly bad thing Jungkook doesn’t pride himself in being prone at succumbing to, it would be his state of overwhelm.

He’s overwhelmed whenever Sunhee shrieks at the same time he’s frustrated with his mouthful of lines. She’s pretty early and advanced for her age to even babble and sometimes form audible words, but she’s obviously not an adult Jungkook’s used to communicating with on a daily basis. He can’t be mad at her for being her age seeing to it that she’s a literal baby, but he can’t help himself when his throat gets stuffy because he can’t understand her sometimes.

He’s overwhelmed when he doesn’t know what exactly Sunhee wants. Even if he’s changed her diaper and put rash cream just in case the friction is what bothers her, she still thrashes around. When Jungkook prepares her milk and takes the time to submerge her bottle on a water bath rather than using the instant bottle warmer, she shoves his hand away.

He caves in and tries to coax her to calm down by giving her snacks, and yet the mild sweetness her cereal puffs have that Sunhee would go crazy for in any other situation, is barely glanced upon. Even when he carries her and walks up and down the stairs, even if he takes her outside to get fresh air, or even when he drowns her in loud kisses with the mwah! audible in each one — Jungkook doesn’t know what Sunhee wants and lets her cry it out even if he wants to help, even if he’s alone and overwhelmed.

He gets overwhelmed now when he can’t figure out what Sunhee wants because just from two minutes ago, she wanted to fiddle with the tube of lip balm that her dad gets back from her because she keeps putting it in her mouth. She’s since recovered from her makeshift toy getting taken away from her, but even now that she’s not in her dad’s arms being rowdy, he feels panicked.

He’s engulfed by god knows what when he responds to texts on his phone and sees countless notifications pop up, all of which that revolve around Nari, his girlfriend (put on pause as she suggested) and most importantly, Sunhee’s mom. The articles picture her around filming a drama on the other side of the globe across from where they are, a bright smile on her face that puts a ghost of it on his lips yet at the same time, make him slightly bitter.

Jungkook’s overwhelmed when he whips his head around and sees Sunhee being bounced up on Jin’s arm, clearly happy and in a fit of giggles, all while you stand beside the two of them.

It’s Jin, who loves Sunhee enough to carry and throw her up with his arm even if his wrist is sore and is equipped with a support band, but has given her up to you because for some odd reason, she’d be calm and even more happy when she’s laid in your arms.

Jungkook’s overwhelmed to see you in your casual wear with your earpiece in and Sunhee’s dribble towel slung on your shoulder, placed snugly on your hip where your radio isn’t situated.

He’s overwhelmed but maybe it’s a good type of overwhelmed to see his daughter in his personal bodyguard’s arms — his heart safe and steady to know that she’s protected by you.

If anything, if anyone needs to watch over Sunhee when he isn’t there for her, Jungkook would want you to be her guardian.

For one part, it’s because he knows you could literally shelter her and keep her safe no matter what. He could see it on how you carry her in the same way that you have put one hand on his elbow in walking him through crowds and one hand outstretched to ward away anyone that could get too close to him — it’s dedicated. It’s motivated in a way that their safety is your priority, perhaps maybe even if it isn’t merely your job.

Yet for the other half, it’s because Jungkook trusts you the most.

He trusts you the most when he looks at you with Sunhee in your arms, your other hand responding back to your radio as you entertain her in the same breath by letting her put her hands on the device.

You feel his eyes on you.

Jungkook finds himself chasing after you around the dressing room even if you sternly tell him to go back to his chair and memorize his lines instead, a desperate look on his face once Seokjin left him to talk to the director.

You want to leave the room and yet you know you can’t, instead choosing to take big steps to try and put the most distance between the two of you as much as possible.

His daughter is in her playpen right between the two of you because her dad has chosen to chase you around in circles until he gets you close enough; until there’s only a literal ball pit in between the two of you.

You’re familiar with how he looks when he’s desperate for something.

“Sunhee looks good with you.”

Jungkook doesn’t bother giving yourself a long-winded intro because the two of you have went through this pleading conversation too many times before, the outcome being the same each time.

Sunhee is an endearing baby, that much you’d admit. Bright, wide, and warm eyes just like her dad’s and a contagious laugh, the whole world already within her little fist. You know she’s loved beyond measure when her cries are equally as paining, rather than annoying, to anyone who comes across her.

“Don’t start with me.”

Your words leave you in utter seriousness but if he listens just a tad bit more closely, he’d know that it isn’t a threat — it’s a plead.

Jungkook should know your tone. He’s known it for years. Should know how you could lie through your teeth with precise skill or how you’re able to communicate what’s needed through gazes alone. Knows when he shouldn’t cross the line but he toes it anyways, always for this topic, taking his chances with you.

“You can start with her.”

Your lips purse as an automatic reaction to what Jungkook is going to ask of you again, making you exhale heavily in a way you barely even recognize nowadays.

He seems to have no problem giving you a quip almost instantaneously, the words tumbling out from his mouth as if they’re instinct and no just afterthoughts at this point.

Jungkook told you once, in confidence and in confinement where it’s only the two of you in an elevator and there’s a crowd right outside, that he’s a single dad.

A single dad for the meantime.

He’s been one for almost the entirety of eight months Sunhee’s been born but you don’t know if he realizes it. You don’t know if he knows that he’s been raising her Sunhee like one even before Nari up and told him that she’s going to leave for a little while, planning to make her comeback even if she’s not a year postpartum.

Come to think of it, she wouldn’t be labeled out of postpartum if no one knows anyways that the reason she’s been gone for more than a year is that she was pregnant — that she’s also long been dating Jungkook for three years now and that she’s given birth to her child; that she’s a mother.

No one would know about Sunhee because after all, she is merely a career break worth a year and some months, in Nari’s own words when she’s asked where she’s been in an interview.

You don’t know if Jungkook knows he was practically already a single dad even before Nari suggested a shift for the meantime and he just chokes it down each day.

Four months. Just four more months before Nari comes back to him, to them.

Just four months before Sunhee’s first birthday, four months before Nari comes back in time.

"I'm not supposed to raise her, Jungkook. I shouldn’t be the one.”

You grit throughout your teeth because the shame in your mind overpowers the dwindling endearment in your heart, the rationality sinking into your head even before your emotions starts to float.

“I’m not Sunhee’s mother.”

It’s merely a fact but Jungkook seems to recoil anyway as if you insulted him, chewing on his bottom lip while he looks down on his shoes.

“I know that,” he says gently, looking at you in the eyes before they set downwards to Sunhee who’s in the middle of you, oblivious to the gravity in your conversation that concerns her because her happiness in brightly-colored balls matters more.

Jungkook motions to his daughter, lips set in a straight line as he puts out his hand for her to give a high-five to, the sound ringing in your ears even if the clap was faint.

“But she doesn’t know that.”

Sunhee can look at you either as her mother or not but it wouldn’t matter because at the end of the day, it’s only the concept of one that he hounds for you to take.

“I will pay you triple than what Seokjin could ever pay you,” he’s not oblivious to the fact that Jin hired you solely for your skills and dedication to the job, your work being compensated more than generously. Jungkook also knows that his manager hired you for yourself, unaware at the time of your past relation to your then-job of protecting; him. “What would it take?”

Jungkook is not one to beg.

He’s hardworking, sure. He’s never had anyone pull him and recommend him for the roles and places he’s now a proud titleholder of. He worked from the ground up and made a name out of his own, not one thing behind handed to him.

Yet of all things, Jungkook wants to retain his pride. He wished to retain his pride even if he was merely a rookie and the word no to your director would cost you much more than saying otherwise. He retains his pride even if he used to get treated like dirt as extras in the background, bowing to producers when they make him clean up spills that he isn’t the cause of, but never gets a rag to appease them.

Jungkook loses his pride when it comes to you.

“I just need you to be a placeholder, Y/N. Please.”

You’re out of breath just for even thinking how he could be so selfish of asking such a thing from you out of all the people he could pitch the concept to.

There’s a line-up of girls you’d know that would want to be Sunhee’s placeholder for a mom, even if Jungkook doesn’t come with it in being their partner for the duration.

It’s not within your complete judgement to feel offended but you feel it on your bones anyway. Him asking you to be the personal bodyguard to his eight-month old daughter sounds much better, because after all, its a job.

Jungkook knows it. The two of you know it. There’s a clear difference between asking you to be Sunhee’s protector from being her mom, the first option being much easier if it’s what he asked of you.

The latter is much, much more different and difficult and Jungkook knows it, but he asks you anyway.

“I just need you to be a stand-in for her. Just for a while.”

You are not Nari, nor will you ever be her.

“She’ll come back to me, I know it,” he promises, tilting his head as he tries to get you to tone down your glare on him and hear him out more attentively. “But for now, I’m begging you to be Sunhee’s mother figure. She needs it.”

“I can’t be who I’m not.”

You’re not related to her at all.

You and Jungkook have history between the two of you and Sunhee doesn’t come from yours. She isn’t a part of your history because she’s from Jungkook’s present and future with someone who isn’t you.

Sunhee’s cute. Like her father and like her mother.

She doesn’t look like you nor does she resemble you in any way. When you look at her, you see her parents in her features. Her attitude is her own and yet you wouldn’t entirely know because you weren’t there when she was born, nor do you know of how Jungkook and Nari conversed about their childhood to try and foresee Sunhee’s.

Nari was born at 8 pounds and she foresees that their baby would be born on the heavier side, seeing to it that she started showing early into the pregnancy.

Jungkook gave his mother a hard time and would always kick inside her belly actively, apologizing to his girlfriend in advance because he has a feeling that their daughter would be just like him.

They were both crybabies, and instead of apologizing to each other for the hard loud times they foresee, they laugh it off.

Sunhee isn’t yours. She is of her mother’s and father’s blood and flesh. She’s neither your pain nor your relief. She’s a product of their love.

You are no one to her, as much as she is no one to you.

“You can be her mommy,” Jungkook pleads, bottom lip trembling as his state of overwhelm continues to bubble up, “you can be her mommy for the time-being.”

“Fuck off with that,” you mutter under your breath, jaw clenching in thought if he knows what he’s asking of you. If he knows how selfish he sounds even if what he’s asking of you concerns his daughter and not him solely.

You love Sunhee in the way an aunt would love her niece who she’s never met and resides on the other side of the world. You’re familiar with her and you know her to a degree, but you’re distant. She crosses your mind only when you walk past parents who has the same stroller as hers or when you see babies with the same pair of socks. The thought of her doesn’t come home with you.

“Who are you speaking to?” you scoff, poking your tongue on your cheek in curiosity and anger. “Me, your ex? Or is it me, your bodyguard?”

The two of you have moved on and never even talk about the past the two of you have shared. Your history is older than Jungkook’s relationship with Nari and their daughter and you find no need in bringing it up.

You’re with him because it’s your job, and he’s with you because he’s your responsibility.

Jungkook’s surprised and chokes on nothing when you raise him the question, eyes wide and unblinking before he silently confesses what the two of you know is the truth under his breath.

“Every version of you knows me.”

His tone is defeated even if desperate.

He’s asking in behalf of Sunhee’s sake, even if he sounds selfish by extension.

Jungkook asks you to be Sunhee’s mother for the meantime as your ex; as someone who you once loved the most in your life. He asks you as a friend, a neutral relationship that’s been built from being with him almost everyday. He asks you as his bodyguard, one who’s meant to protect him to no end even if it’s his wellbeing in question, one that revolved around Sunhee.

You merely smile in recollection but there are only two things that fill you up.

Pity, for Sunhee, because at eight months, her supposed mother figure would be you because her real one thinks of her as a mere variable and cause to have a career break.

And feelings, that are all too consuming because Jungkook knows you in this way still, even if he obliterates his pride for the sake of his daughter’s, at the expense of yours. He knows you in this light still; the part where he asks something from you in every version of himself, and he takes a chance for you to answer him in every version of yourself.

You half-heartedly laugh when Sunhee reaches out for you to carry her up, and you do, but you mean it with every fiber of yourself that your flaw is knowing Jungkook in these lights.

“I wish I didn’t.”

Commitment

Summary: Everything seems to be going perfect in your life. Your boyfriend Jungkook is more than you could have dreamed of and there’s been a break in the case that could define your career — one of the members of the most elusive mafia, The Devils has been captured. Heading down to the precinct you couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling: Was everything too good to be true?

A/N: This Au has been sitting inside my WIPs for far too long. I decided to publish it and see if there was anyone willing to go on another Mafia!Jungkook trip with me. So, I’m sending this out to see how the reception goes. Much love, Jenn. Headers made by @firefly-graphics

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Mafia!Jungkook, Detective Reader, enemies to lovers, mutual pining

Warnings: mentions of fingering, sexual content, and violent settings

It was close to two in the morning when you’d got the call. You knew without having to look at the caller ID that it was your Chief. Something had forced his hand enough to call you to bring your ass back to the station. What you hadn’t prepared for were the words that greeted your gruff hello: “We got one of the sons’ a bitches.”

It was hard to miss the victory in his tone, and it was enough to spur you out of bed. Your feet hurrying towards the discarded uniform of slacks and button down from the previous day. You weren’t worried about jumping into a shower or putting on a wrinkle-free outfit to try and impress. For the first time in over a year you had a solid lead.

Being the youngest detective on the force, it left the heavy burden of having to prove your worth. The better part of your career being plagued by this case. You were a junior detective, promoted to lead strictly due to the unfortunate event the previous detective was found floating in the Han river.There’d been the wasted man hours on leads that fell through or witnesses that either went missing or completely refused to talk. The ones who turned up in missing persons’ cases usually wound up being found in trash bags scattered at city dumps. Your least favorite experience was finding a couple who’d disappeared only to be found crushed inside their car in a junkyard. Eventually, with so much loss and not enough wins, the entire station began to fall into a gloom of always being one step behind.

All you’d come to know about this Kingpin, Kim Namjoon, and his Devils’ over the years were that there were seven of them. One of the seven being the Kingpin himself, while the other six served a purpose. A well oiled machine with all of them holding specific jobs and nicknames. It took months and months for you to find out the name of the Kingpin himself. And in those months of searching that dragged on into years, the bodies and carnage of robbed banks, penthouse scuffles, and plays for power continued to haunt you.

After all this time you finally had one of the bastards.

The thought rang heavy in your mind as you hopped into your boots. Your fingers frantically struggled to tie up the laces. Even though there were more important things to worry about, you couldn’t help but glance one last time at your bed.

Jungkook hadn’t come home last night.

Ever since you’d met him, Jungkook appeared to be just as busy as you were. Both of you receive calls at odd hours that sometimes force you to excuse yourself from breakfast or dinner. Or the late night phone calls that had you leaving the bed with hurried kisses and promises to be back as soon as possible.

What you knew most about his work was that a majority of it required him to do a lot of night work. Your relationship was still relatively new - with your one-year anniversary coming up in just a couple weeks. It should’ve sent off alarms how quickly everything seemed to happen between you, but from the moment you’d met him Jungkook had you completely enamored.

You were never one for one-night stands. Even when your day was pure nightmare fuel, you’d never allow yourself the temptation of losing yourself in a total stranger. No, instead you found yourself losing yourself to the bottle. The night you’d met Jungkook had been a complete accident. The earlier hours of the day had left you wanting the comfort of your bed and a personal pint of Half Baked Ben & Jerry’s. The only reason you’d agreed to go out was because your friend had pleaded; reminding you it was her birthday.

The day ended up being one of the worst you’d experienced in a while. Your shift started with the basic petty crimes until you’d received one of the many calls you were learning to hate. Namjoon’s Devils’ had left a trail of carnage so widespread inside a building it encapsulated almost five floors. It wasn’t just a knife fight that happened in those halls. It was a shitty Andy Warhol painting of bullets trapped in grungy wallpaper. The carpet a fucked up Picasso of blood-stains that were still so fresh when you’d arrived with the others it was still wet; squishing under every footstep. Forensics was not pleased when they’d arrived.

After walking through that madhouse anyone would’ve deserved a drink. You especially. You were trying to do just that when your wait at the bar began to turn from a simple ten minute wait to nearing thirty. Your fingers began to tap out an inpatient tune, like annoying elevator music while you prayed the bartender would notice you soon. Your tunnel vision caused you to stop paying attention to everything around you. You were so damn fixated on getting that drink you hadn’t noticed the body that slid up to the left you. It wasn’t until you got the feeling someone was staring that you finally looked around to see if you could find out who. Your eyes were not disappointed.

One arm rested coolly against the bar. Not for actual support but for style. The pose allowed him to lean his body towards you just enough that it wouldn’t be invasive, but let him stay close. When you turned to finally give him your attention, like he desperately seemed to want, it took what self-control you had left to keep your jaw from falling.

His hair was long; the front barely grazing the middle of his cheeks while the back went further. His hair was a literal mullet. It should’ve looked ridiculous, but Jungkook was far from that. He was breathtaking.

You weren’t ashamed to admit it then or even now. The minute you’d locked eyes with him you realized it wasn’t a coincidence he came to stand beside you. You knew you should look away. You’d been staring at him too long now for it to be considered a fleeting glance. But your eyes were enjoying the sinful way the suit hugged against his body. When your eyes finally made their way back up the fine lines of his suit, you were greeted by a knowing smirk that, for a split second, made you forget how to breathe.

You weren’t entirely sure how you could pretend you weren’t affected by him in the slightest. His face was all sharp angles that were showcased perfectly by the curve of his jaw, and barely softened by doe shaped eyes. But even that softness was eaten by an eyebrow piercing that accentuated his brow that was currently raised in question. The smirk that lifted his lips matched the heat in his eyes as he shamelessly let you watch his eyes roam over your body.

You tried to focus on anything else in the space between you and somehow found yourself noticing a brush of a mole underneath his bottom lip. Its placement felt ludicrous due to its cuteness. Here this guy was giving you, “Fuck me,” eyes that were countered by soft touches that were scattered all over his face. It left him teetering between mind blowingly gorgeous and boyishly handsome all at once.

The expensive fabric of his charcoal gray suit strained against the muscles in his arms as he raised it up to flag down the bartender. Your eyes took in the length of his fingers and your body shivered as you imagined them sliding up your dress. Your cheeks heated with a blush you hoped he didn’t notice as you imagined those same fingers making their way between your thighs. Your mindly shamelessly began to wonder if was the kind of man that liked to tease - to prolong every ounce of pleasure - or did he just take what he wanted?

You were more than aware of how the black shirt underneath, just like the jacket, showcased a sculpted chest. He radiated sex appeal and power and you wanted nothing more than to be engulfed.

With the flick of his fingers the bartender appeared like magic. His question of, “What would you like?” sounded desperate to please as he waited for Jungkook’s instruction. Jungkook himself didn’t glance once in his direction. His attention was wholly focused on you.

“Give the lady whatever she’d like.”

Now that you had the attention of the bartender you couldn’t seem to remember what you’d wanted to order. You weren’t even sure if you wanted a drink anymore. Not when he was standing there looking at your mouth like he planned to either fuck it or kiss it.

“Does that include you?”

You expected there to be a hint of shock. Or maybe he’d take offense to your boldness. What you’d ended up receiving in return was that devilish smirk he wore like a second skin. It spread like wildfire farther up his face; lighting up his eyes to look like the big bad wolf as they roamed hungrily over your body. A silent prayer formed on your lips that he would close that distance and touch you. Your house could’ve been made of fucking cement and you would’ve held your door open to allow him to sink his teeth in your skin.

“Sorry. I’m no longer on the menu.”

You did your best to hide your disappointment at his dismissal by giving the bartender your attention.

“I’ll take a rum and coke.”

You refused to turn back to him. To let yourself be flustered farther by some ridiculously good-looking man who’d basically told you he was taken. God, but he didn’t make it easy. It didn’t matter if you’d decided not to look at him. You could feel his eyes staring daggers into you, itching along your spin, while you slid a twenty in exchange for your drink across the bar. Were you imagining things or did he get closer?

When you moved to step away from the bar, you finally gave him your attention. A glass raised half way to thank him for the drink.

“Thanks for the help.”

You tipped your glass and started to make your way back to your friend's booth. In the short amount of time you’d been standing at the bar wasting time just to get one drink the place had filled up. Instead of it being a straight shot back to the booth, you found yourself asking people to excuse you with your precious drink held above your head. If you spilled it there was a strong indication there’d be some cursing and, possibly, a few tears.

Your imagination began to wander into naughty places as you made your way across the floor. You didn’t like being grabbed when you danced on the floor, but you imagined what it would be like if it was him you felt. His hand at your waist, stopping you from moving farther from him, with his body shamelessly pressed tightly against you. The hand he’d secured at your waist being used to move your hips in unison with him to the next DJ requested song.

The tension between you two wasn’t something you’d imagined. You’d plainly stated your interest and he seemed receptive, but…

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing back over your shoulder. Just like at the bar you’d felt his eyes follow you without mercy as you made your weak attempt to cross the floor.The dancing bodies around you should’ve provided you ample cover. Or that’s what you believed, but when you glanced over your shoulder you found those intense doe eyes fixated on you. His lean frame was still pressed into the exact spot you’d left him at the bar. Even from where you stood, you easily mapped out the teasing curve of his lips.

In that instant you really did feel like Little Red trapped under the insatiable gaze of a predator who threatened to swallow you whole. Even though your heart began to thunder wildly in your chest you couldn’t deny that it was all from the thrill of being hunted. For a moment, you forgot to worry about your drink and the high possibility of it spilling. You were rooted there to the floor, pulse hammering, and waiting.

“Hey Y/N!” You could barely register her words, but when Eun Hyun touched your arm it jolted you back to reality. “You good?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

“Did you get lost? Or has something caught the attention of that cop brain of yours?”

Her voice dripped heavy with teasing as she scanned the bouncing heads around you. She knew, somewhere in the sea of bodies, someone in there had turned you into a walking puddle. You gave her your best care-free smile and slid your arm around her waist. Your hips knocking against hers playfully to direct her back towards the table.

“I’m off duty tonight.”

You practically had to yell the words in her ear. If it wasn’t for the music being ear shatteringly loud, you would’ve worried about her eardrum. Your response sent her head back to rest against your shoulder and gazing over in your direction. Her laughter caused her eyes to crease into half moons.

The rest of the night you spent surrounded by Eun Hyun and her friends. You didn’t find yourself trying to find your mystery bar guy or wondered if he was somewhere watching you from a shadowed booth. You flung yourself into the girls night; your body gyrating and dancing to the throbbing bass of the music. Your mouth greedily knocking back every drink and every shot offered up by the next round from the bar. This was your night to unwind and you planned to take advantage of every minute.

When it was time for everyone to head home - and you being you - you hailed a cab for each of the girls. Eun Hyun decided at the last minute that instead of riding with you, she’d catch a ride with another girlfriend. The two of them believed that their girls' night didn’t have to end there at the bar, but somewhere still open that allowed them to be full of sin. They asked if you wanted to join, but you knew you couldn’t. As much as you loved living in the illusion of freedom, in the back of your mind, you knew the dark underbelly that was your home would be calling you bright and early. You didn’t need a massive hangover to join you during a homicide investigation.

Once the last of the girls’ was securely inside a cab you started waving for your own. You were usually a cautious person - came with the territory - so why you weren’t at that moment always surprised you. You’d thought about the second time you’d run into each other a lot. Why Jungkook never peaked your radar. The answer was a simple one: you never saw him coming.

You’d just stepped off the curb to open the back door of the cab when a suited arm beat you to it.

“Excuse me-“

The rest of your words died off the moment you looked up. He was just there. His arm holding the taxi idle, and keeping you captive between him and its backseat. Besides a coy glint of a challenge inside big doe eyes, you weren’t sure what game he was getting at. There was one thing you knew for certain. Years of intuition telling you the prize he was after was you.

“Get in.”

His voice was heady in its demand. The roughness of his words coated your skin in a heavy desire that left your body eager to follow orders. Too bad your legs seemed to turn to jelly by the way he stepped inside your space; his body easily overtaking your orbit. Eclipsing yours until you realized too late you were holding your breath waiting with anticipation for his next move. His dominance was on display in every inch of him. Particularly, in the way he moved. It could've been mistaken for confidence - he certainly wasn’t lacking in the department - but it was more than that. Jungkook commanded the universe to observe him and take awe of being in his presence.

A modern day Narcissus with all the power of Zeus.

Your body wanted to obey. Drunk you, however, wanted to be difficult. The stubborn side of you flared to the surface and made its own demand. “I didn’t realize we were sharing,” you replied, your words purred from your lips.

His response came in the form of actions. His hand that had held open the taxi’s door was now holding onto your arm and ushering you inside the cab. The hard length of his frame followed closely behind you to make sure you were getting in. If you turned to get out of the way you would just run smack into his chest.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?!”

You moved your body across the backseat until you were on the opposite side. Your back pressed firmly against the door. You turned to face him, watching as his frame followed in behind you and closed the door all in one smooth motion. His hand came down to pat a few times on the drivers chair as he directed him to an address that was definitely not yours.

A small part of you wanted to blurt out that you were a detective. See if it was enough to make his bravado wilt and followed up with messy attempts at an apology. The other part of you, one you later blamed on being drunk, just wanted to see what the rest of the night held in store. The hold Jungkook had previously had on your arm was now gone, but the heat from his touch remained.

The taxi lurched forward. It’s pace quickly sped up while the driver became comfortable with the information given from his gps. The middle-aged man gave you both a brief glance from his rear-view mirror. His thoughts deciding already the two of you were nothing but strangers heading home for a midnight fuck. He wasn’t far off, except-

You weren’t sure what you expected when you glanced back at the man beside you. A hundred possibilities with a hundred different ways to address them flew through your mind. Every single one of them dying before they were ever born on your lips when you found deep honeyed eyes seeing - not looking - in your direction.

“It’s a bit cocky to assume I want to go home with you.”

Your voice didn’t betray that your heart leapt into your throat. Your pulse sparks pure lightning through your veins, struggling, to keep a trepid tongue from running over your lips. His eyes flashed with a wickedness that was matched only by his smile. A curl of lips that you desperately wanted to feel pressed between your folds.

“You asked if I was on the menu, remember?”

“Asking if someone is included with a drink doesn’t automatically mean, ‘fuck me.’”

The drivers’ eyes peeled back up to glance in the rear view. It was subtle, but there.

Your harsh choice of words earned you a quirked eyebrow. His piercing glinted briefly by passing streetlights making him look ethereal. Sinful. This time your tongue did dart out to wet your lips and his eyes hungrily followed.

“No, it doesn’t. Looking for me while you should be enjoying your friends does come off that way, though.”

Your body went rigid with embarrassment. He’d noticed you as your eyes eagerly searched every face in the crowd. You’d searched, hoping, you’d find him, and yet you never once saw him. You’d even said a tiny prayer to the universe that maybe you'd run into him on the way back to the bar or pressed against his body on the dance floor. All these moments…

But he took notice of your desire and planned to use it to his full advantage.

“Come here.”

The demand was back. His voice practically dripped it along your skin. A silken promise to bring you to your knees and keep you there. You were eager to see if his words matched his actions. Without making him have to ask twice, you slide over to him. Your body filling up what little space you’d made until you were a breathe away.

The darkness of his eyes lightened for a moment. His pleasure at you obeying orders sent a spark through him. His hand came up a moment later with his index tracing the edges of your jaw until it cupped right below your chin. He used your obedience to his advantage and tipped your chin up to look up.

His eyes roamed the expanse of your face. A lazy thumb moved along the edge of your lip. The action was simple, and yet your breath was caught in your lungs. Hypnotized and waiting, eagerly, for his next move.

He must have noticed the heat in your eyes. The way you swallowed heavier around words of pleading that left your body wanton and trembling to be touched. A smirk ticked the corners of his mouth as he brought his lips closer to yours. Close enough he could’ve breathed you to him if he wanted. Instead, Jungkook faltered half way. Eyes dancing with mischief as his whispered words of, “Good girl,” painted themselves against your lips.

You bit the side of your cheek. A weak attempt to fight the convulsion to respond like a brat. You wanted to nudge him, something - anything - to make him take back his words. Even though his voice caressed along your skin, making it ache to sin.

His thumb was tracing slowly against your lips. His eyes holding yours hostage; demanding you to meet him with the same intensity. This was how Jungkook chose to watch you unravel at his touch. It would stay like this with every touch of his hands or when his cock was buried deep inside you. He came to life as you unraveled underneath him. Devouring every last hitch in your breathing with a hungry mouth and coaxing hands.

This is how he chose to watch you that night, in the backseat of that cab, as your breath caught in your throat. Your body curving to press closer to him with your thighs parting just enough to give him access. A smirk tilted the corner of his mouth as his head tilted closer to you.

“You’re such a good girl for me.”

Jungkook’s breath caressed the words along your lips just before he claimed your mouth with his. The kiss only meant to silence you as his fingers moved past the thin lace covering your pussy. His fingers pushing past your folds and plunging deep inside you.

Your body responded instantly to his touch. Your body arched to be closer; chest pressed up against him as your hand found a perch at the nape of his neck. You wanted to stay quiet. You were in the backseat of a cab for fucks sake, but Jungkook wasn’t giving you an option for dignity.

His fingers set to work on guiding themselves deeper inside you. Each thrust from his wrist sent a moan panting against his lips. Your hips shamelessly working in time with each thrust from his wrists. The palm of his hand cupped your pussy as he added another finger, stretching you wider for him.

A squelching noise was beginning to fill the small cab. Jungkook’s hand now coated and slick with your juices as you rode the high he was sending you on.

You weren’t like this. You were a detective. A woman who didn’t consider being fingered in the backseat of a cab a good time. Your common sense was raging at you to pull away from his kiss. To pull on his wrist and remove his fingers from between your legs, but the feral part of you told common sense to fuck off.

A secret part of you loved the way he unraveled you in that backseat. His tongue diving between your lips to caress across yours. The kiss at first was nothing but intensity: fierce and no doubt leaving your lips swollen. But as Jungkook continued to bring you close and closer to your orgasm it began to change. His lips still refused to let yours go. Your moans and gasps were forced to be pressed against his mouth as you panted for air. The kiss grew into its own sensual being. No longer was it fast and brutal. His tongue now moved languidly over yours, as if tasting every inch of you he could find.

You no longer cared that the cabbie was probably watching. Well aware that Jungkook’s fingers changed tactics and were now curving up into your g-spot. Your hands were frantically trying to remove his clothes; desperate to get home so you could have him inside you. You didn’t have to pull away from Jungkook’s lips to know he was smiling.

He couldn’t hold you to him any longer when the pleasure spread into your belly and blossomed in a burst of stars. You came for him - moaning prayers of ‘oh fuck,” - and head bumping against the window. You came while Jungkook continued to work your orgasm until your legs quivered uncontrollably. His pupils blown out with lust while he watched you come undone at his touch.

You couldn’t remember getting out of the cab at his apartment. You could only remember once you were inside, bodies were colliding against the wall of the hallway in a frenzy to remove clothes. Something broke on your ascent to the bedroom and you almost tripped trying to take off your heels.

All you did remember was the feeling of Jungkook on top of you. The tip of his cock pressing against your opening before he fully sheathed himself inside you. Your pussy struggling to accommodate his length and the sweet pain of his cock stretching you, working your cunt to take every last inch of him. Jungkook fucked you hard enough you felt him in your crevice. Your body trembling as pain and pleasure meddled together until it was sending you over the brink. Even when you got on top, hips working him with each thrust, Jungkook still took control. His hands on your waist going at the pace he wanted, and it was always too deep - too much - and left you screaming out his name in worship.

When you woke up you weren’t surprised by the massive headache you’d obtained from drinking half the bar. Jungkook silently laying beside you, deep in sleep, had been a huge surprise.You weren’t good at the whole next morning, ‘where do we go from here?’ sort of thing.

You were steeling yourself for the awkward moments when he woke up. For when you would tell him it was a one time thing and no relationship was going to happen. Ever. Of course, it wasn’t what happened at all. The moment Jungkook woke up his, “Good morning,” came in the form of a grunt. His body rolling you over and pushing himself inside.

You weren’t sure how a relationship happened. At first, you pretended it was strictly for the sex. A way to blow off steam from long work hours and the horrors of finding the Devils’ leftovers. But somehow his staying over only until morning turned into staying for breakfast. It traveled from breakfast in the house to breakfast at diners and dinners at restaurants. Eventually, Jungkook stopped leaving all together from your apartment, because it was now one you shared.

There were times you tried to deny that you could afford to fall in love, especially with him. While you were sure over the course of months you’d told him small and big things about yourself, Jungkook remained a mystery. The moments when he told you about his day or himself were rare and raw. As if he were afraid to come apart at the seams of the man he’d built only to be seen as weak.

Glancing over at Jungkook’s empty side of the bed, you tried to keep the dread from growing. You tried to shove it down as you climbed inside the elevator, your fingers pressing for the lobby. Jungkook never told you exactly what he did for a living. You just knew it kept him up at odd hours and sometimes - rarely - he would be kept out at night.

You weren’t going to allow yourself to be consumed with worry that he wasn’t home. Your Chief called with big news and with any luck, it was one of your leads that led to this arrest. All the worry that began to brew inside you quickly dissipated and excitement took its place.

Two years. Two long - nightmarish - years and finally you had something tangible. You had one of the bastards who helped terrorize this city and every resident inside it. The thought you could finally get some reasoning for the carnage Namjoon and his men had caused made you practically giddy.

The drive down to the station was done in a daze. You were positive no red lights were run, but you couldn’t say with certainty you didn’t speed. You dashed up to the back door of the precinct and squeezed past an officer who was on his way out.

He mumbled a hello, but you couldn’t respond. Your mind was focused on reaching the third floor where the man was being held. Your legs quickly found the staircase and took each one two at a time. Your body jolted forward as you came to the third-floor landing, and you broke into a jog.

The Chief was standing near the end of the corridor. His hands crossed with a Manila folder with everything that the department was able to gather on whoever was inside. When he caught sight of you, he pushed himself off of the wall taking lumbering steps in your direction. A hand already extending out the file for you to grab from him the minute you were within arm's reach.

“Finally. I thought with something like this you would’ve gotten here faster.”

“Hello to you too, Chief,” you snapped back. You weren’t too worried about him. Your attention was on the folder now in your hands. Your thumb running along the edge to help flip it open. “Can you debrief me on what we know for now?”

His large body made it hard to walk side-by-side in the hallway, forcing you to walk a little behind him.

“It’s all there in front of you: read it,” he huffed.

“It’s difficult to walk and read at the same time. Stop being an ass and just tell me.”

“Fine. We caught him in the act so to speak. He’d just finished paying a jeweler who we suspected was helping launder diamonds for Namjoon out of the country. Not sure exactly what happened, but from what we gathered at the scene, whatever's been going on between Namjoon and the jeweler must have been one hell of a disagreement.” The two of you stopped in front of the interrogation room at the very end of the hall. Your body was tingling with the desire to go inside. “When we showed up the jeweler and his works were already dead, and he was leaving with the suitcase through the back door. Surprised the hair out of the newbie when he met him at the door.”

The big man let out a chuckle that sounded more like a cough: throaty and from the chest. Chief was really in a good mood, you noticed.

“You say he, sir. We got a name?”

“Sure, as fuck do: Jeon Jungkook. Namjoon’s enforcer and right-hand man.”

You were vaguely aware that his mouth was still moving. He was talking, making words, and yet you heard none of it. The sickening feeling you felt earlier looking at the empty side of his bed came back. This time you physically had to fight your body from being sick. The urge to release the late dinner you had before bed was creeping dangerously close to the surface.

You were struggling to focus on his frame. Barely able to register the Chief was looking at you with worry. His lips formed words you were sure asking if you were okay but you waved him off. With the file still in your hand, you placed your hands on your hips. The movement forcing your dark trench coat to flare out around you like a cap.

In. Out. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

He was talking to you still; throwing questions at you on repeat and the only questions you wanted answers too lied within the room to your right. You didn’t give him warning that you were leaving. You just walked up to the interrogation room door, your hand reaching out for the handle.

Whether you were ready for what greeted you on the other side of the door - you weren’t sure. You made a silent prayer to anyone listening for it not to be him on the other side of the door. You would’ve given anything for it to be anyone else. Anything.

With a shaky hand you turned the knob of the door and stepped inside.

Your back was against the headboard of the bed. All the pillows that had been lost to the floor during sex were now back. Each one hugging to your shape as Jungkook tried to invade the pillow cocoon you’d made by resting his head in your lap.

He’d let out another frustrated sigh and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face. Jungkook hated your pillow obsession.

“I swear, I come home only to find another pillow added to the bed.”

“Or, hear me out, you just think you see another one.”

“I’ve actually started counting,” he admitted. His eyes edged up to look up at you through his lashes. Your fingers that’d been playing in his sweaty hair came to a halt. Just so you could do your best to hold his stare - looking as innocent as possible. “Today when I left the house we had ten pillows and now we have eleven. How does that happen?”

“Magic.”

You smiled brightly down at him before placing a kiss down on his forehead. You went to move back up when Jungkook stopped you. His body lifting up from your lap to meet you halfway to press his lips to yours. It was a chaste kiss. Chaste compared to how you usually kissed and as brief as it was your body reacted to him instantly.

You’d learned early on in your relationship it didn’t matter if you were having a bad day. If you were angry at the world, him, or frustrated with work. Jungkook was able to combat your sadness with just his presence alone. In moments where he smiled so big it crinkled his nose and the times you’d find him dancing shirtless in the kitchen while making breakfast. Even through the soft moments you shared, Jungkook chose to remain an enigma.

Jungkook released his hold on your lips to fall back into your lap. He turned until a cheek rested on your thigh giving him a good enough view to look out your bedroom window. The dying light of the day painting the window seal in hazy oranges and reds.

“This feels like magic.”

He spoke softly into the soft skin of your thigh. Jungkook brought a lazy hand to your calf and began to lightly move his fingers up and down. Your face became hot and you weren’t sure why you were trying to hide it when he wasn’t even looking. He was too busy, lost in the darkness of his own thoughts to know you were watching him and the way the sunset lit up every inch of his features. You traced the flowers on his sleeve in an attempt to calm the frenzy of your heart.

“What flower is this?”

The minute your words left your lips, you wished you could take them back. Jungkook turned away from the window to briefly glance at his arm. Already knowing exactly what flower you meant.

“It’s my birth flower. A tiger flower.”

“It’s a beautiful flower.”

“It is, but I didn’t get it for that. I got it for its meaning.”

You waited for him to continue. The room swelled with silence as you resumed running your fingers through his hair, but Jungkook’s attention was turned back towards the window.

“What’s it mean?”

He didn’t respond right away. The only way you knew he heard you was the soft tilt of his head. His eyes glancing at you from the side. You weren’t trying to pressure him. You just wanted him to know you were willing to wait and listen.

“It means, ‘Love me.’”

Each word hit you in the chest making you think, for just a moment, your heart was breaking. Jungkook’s voice told you more than he probably meant too.

Your fingers completely stopped their movement through his hair and moved down to take hold of his chin. Gently, you tilted his head up by his chin and waited for his eyes to meet yours before you spoke.

“If it counts for anything, I love you, Jungkook.”

Stepping inside the room you were greeted with the immediate sight of him. He hadn’t turned to look at you yet. His hands held together on the cool steel table. His wrists bound with cuffs that were attached to the metal ring at the edge closest to him.

He was dressed neatly in all black. From his long jacket that sat draped along the back of his chair to the high turtleneck that decorated his torso. In the breakdown of what had been taken in for evidence, you noticed they’d listed black leather gloves that he was currently missing.

You found your bearings and finally took that final step forward. Your feet carrying you around the table to the only chair available inside the room. It was then that Jungkook’s eyes flicked through the slights in his hair and you were finally able to see the light splatter of blood that was speckled across his cheek.

That was when it hit home that this was real. This moment, inside this very room, where your axis was tipping and your world was violently shifting. He didn’t have the decency to look away; to be ashamed.

No. A part of you always knew that the darkness that you assumed haunted Jungkook wasn’t out of sadness. An inkling of something much more sinister lurked underneath his surface, but you overlooked it. Pretended it wasn’t there all because you broke your own rules. You didn’t keep your guard up and if you had, Jungkook had silently removed every wall you’d been able to build.

Jungkook acknowledged your presence with a smirk and all that anguish you felt at his betrayal was instantly replaced with rage.

“There’s my good girl.”

“Don’t call me that.”

You hated the way he used your pet name. You hated it more with the way your body betrayed you with your core aching to be touched. Jungkook usually called you that when he had your legs spread out on your kitchen counter; eating your pussy for breakfast. Or bent over the couch with him buried to the hilt inside you, pounding at a brutal pace, with a belt around your throat and his hand controlling the pressure.

Jungkook’s response at your request was a sickening chuckle. You wanted to vault over the table between you. Grab a hold of him and shake him, scream in his face, demanding why? What was the purpose of all those months? Did he know who you were that night at the bar? Was this nothing but a game to him?

The smug look on his face made you want to go feral. The betrayal and hurt were warring inside your gut fighting for dominance. Each one knocking the air from your lungs like a punch. Jungkook leaned forward placing his elbows on the table and used them to get to the middle. His eyes were wild as he searched your face. No doubt reading the split second it took for you to hide the emotions you felt.

“Why? Do you not want them to know that we’ve been fucking? How I came home to you almost every night after I committed crimes you could never catch me for.”

And there it was. The truth you were dreading.

How many times had he come home to the bed you shared after he murdered someone? After threatening someone’s life or burning down a business? Came home to help you make dinner and he’d just taken laundered money or helped run one of Namjoon’s brothels.

You dropped his folder with a thud on the table. You had to fold your arms across your middle just so you didn’t actually reach over the table and strangle him. He would love that. See you lose control just to prove his point.

“You seem to be focusing on the wrong things, Jungkook. You seem a bit bitter that you got caught.”

The eerie smile dropped off his face as he snarled, “They got lucky.”

“Or you were just cocky,” you shot back. “And that cockiness cost you.”

“I wouldn’t be talking about cock-y anything right now, sweetheart.”

“How about we cut the shit and get straight to it, hmm? You aren’t going anywhere, Jungkook. You’ve been apprehended and you will never, ever, see the light of day again.”

The smug smile returned as his head cocked to the side. Clearly, you were more amusing than anything else to him.

“You’re soooo angry that I was under your nose this whole time. You had suspicions, but you chose to ignore them.”

You tried to swallow past your heart that was now clamoring in your throat. The scream that had been building was threatening to break free. You were struggling to remain emotionless. From the look on Jungkook’s face, you were failing miserably. You knew what he was going to say and you didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want something you’d told him in the moment to be used against you like the fool you felt you were.

“We both know why you ignored them, y/n. It’s because you lo-“

“If you finish that sentence I promise you I’ll punch your teeth down your throat.”

His reply came in the form of a wide toothy grin that lit his entire face up. The idea excited him and made him look psychotically attractive with the dried blood on his cheeks.

“You won’t get the chance even if I did.”

“What are you talking about?” You snapped.

He just answered you with that wicked smile. You were getting tired of the games. Your thoughts working on how to get past all the personal to the real matter at hand. You were considering how to work around it when the alarms in the room began to go off.

The alarm was shrill and pulsing. The sound hammered over and over inside your skull until you were sure it was going to explode. You glanced back at the two-way mirror and then to the door. You expected at any minute for someone to come barreling in to ask about what Jungkook said or to tell you the alarm was a false alarm. You were willing to bet it was until you started hearing shouting further down the hall. The sounds of running feet and jingling keys crept through the door.

You wanted to call and ask what was going on, but you hadn’t grabbed a radio and when the shouting got louder you found yourself back on your feet.

“Did you really think Namjoon and the other Devils’ wouldn’t come for me?”

Jungkook spoke to you like he was scolding a child. Your mouth snapped open, ready to retaliate, when the sound of an explosion sounded all around you. The alarms in the building were blaring like crazy. The next explosion sounded in the building and your arms shot up protectively to cover your head and neck.

The sounds of screams were now pounding in your ears. Matching the scrambling boots and shouts to find cover. You dropped your arms down from your head and looked around. Outside was pure chaos, but nothing had touched inside the interrogation room yet. Which only meant one thing.

“They don’t know which room you’re in.”

Your words were soft. Spoken mostly as a verbal thought. The realization of it had you scrambling out of your chair. Your hands digging for the cuff keys Chief had dropped inside your pocket before you entered.

You had resolved to never get this close to him again. You wanted to pretend that being so near would cause your skin to crawl, but it was too soon. Everything is still fresh and open. Jungkook may have betrayed you in more ways than your brain could possibly fathom at this point. But the only thing your body felt, being this close to him, was desire.

“What are you doing?”

Jungkook was staring up at you with amusement. His gaze set on your face and no doubt finding the humor in the way your jaw clenched at having to press this close up against him.

“If they don’t know what room that means I have a chance to take you somewhere else. Somewhere safe.”

“You’re freeing me?” One eyebrow curled up towards his hairline. The amusement was still heavy in his tone, but underneath was he…hopeful?

A snort of laughter was your only reply as you continued to work on the chain that held his cuffs in place.

“No, Jungkook, I'm not freeing you. I’m making sure you end up where you belong.”

“And where is that, exactly?” He snapped.

The amusement had fallen from him and was replaced with the look of someone deadly. Someone you didn’t know. The change was swift and almost had you taking a step back from him. This was the real Jungkook. The enforcer, Chief called him. Looking at him you couldn’t agree with a more fitting title for the fierce man that looked up at you.

“In prison.”

You weren’t sure how you found the courage to reply or to meet the fury in his eyes. The second your words registered you watched a spark ignite in his eyes and a snarl bare his teeth. This time your body did give a jolt in surprise. You went to move back from him, but Jungkook’s hands were on your arms gripping you right. Refusing to let go.

“No. I belong with you and you belong with me.”

You were shaking your head struggling to free yourself from having to hear him. His words cut deep and dug into your soul. How stupid of him to not realize it didn’t matter how you felt. How he felt. You knew who he was now and nothing could change that. Nothing should be able to change that.

“No,” you gasped.

You didn’t know when you started crying. All you knew was that your eyes were stinging with unshed tears. As much as you fought to hold them in, you knew it was just a matter of time before you lost.

“Yes! You know it as much as I do. All these months we’ve been together. Deep down, in your gut, you knew all along who I was.”

“That’s impossible! I’m not fuckin psychic!”

“No. You’re a detective and a good one at that. You’re not dumb, y/n.” You were shaking your head vigorously like it would be enough to drown out every word he spoke. The grip on your arms felt constricting and yet, you didn’t pull away. “We belong together. You know it.”

The rage at his words, or yourself for allowing him to talk and for you to listen, was building up. You were going to scream. It felt like you were going to open your mouth to do so when another explosion went off.

This one was closer than the others. Close enough that it shattered the glass off the two-way mirror and sent it flying like shrapnel into the room. You were still stunned by the explosion, your body stuck in shock, but Jungkook was already moving.

A hand reached out to grab the edge of the interrogation table. He flipped it over with ease and grabbed you just as another explosion sounded. He didn’t grab you quick enough. You didn’t have to touch your head right away to know it was bleeding. You’d felt the debris of something - a chunk of concrete, plywood, or glass - hit the backside of your head. Your vision was now doubled and cloudy. The words being said around you sounded like they were speaking through cotton balls.

Vaguely, you became aware that there were other men in the room now. All of them dressed in black with decorated hockey masks that sat on top of ski masks. One of them was bending down, bolt cutters in his hands, and made quick work of Jungkook’s cuffs just as Namjoon entered the room.

He walked through the hole the explosion created, framed by billowing smoke and flames. Namjoon appeared completely untouched. Exactly like the Devil himself.

You tried to go for your side arm but someone stopped you. A boot kicking you back that was met with a savage snarl as Jungkook launched himself at your attacker. The darkness around your vision was winning. No matter what you told yourself, you weren’t going to be able to fight passing out. Your eyes fluttered over to the sight of Jungkook. His fist had wrapped his handcuffs around his knuckles and was smashing repeatedly into the mask of the man who’d kicked you.

“That’s enough, Jungkook.” Namjoon’s baritone was rich and deep. It didn’t surprise you that it went with one of the most notorious mob king’s that ever resided in this city. “We need to leave. Now. We’ll talk about your lack of tact when we get home.”

“I’m not leaving without her.”

Namjoon turned to him. His eyes followed as Jungkook threw down the bloodstained cuffs and moved towards you. You wanted to say something - tried to say something - but all that came out was mumble words and a whimper.

“You know you can’t bring her, Jungkook.”

“I’ll say this one more time, Joon. I’m not leaving here. Not without her.”

Irritation rippled across Namjoon’s features and his jaw clenched tight. You could tell he was thinking with his eyes roaming down to look you over. Finally noticing the state that you were in. His tongue rolled around in his cheek before he looked back at Jungkook. His frustration only made his forehead crease further.

“Fuck it. Hurry up and grab her.”

Jungkook didn’t even wait for Namjoon to finish his sentence. He pushed the tossed over table farther away making it easier for him to move down and scoop you up into his arms. The sudden movement caused your world to spin and it wouldn’t stop. Squinting your eyes you nestled your forehead against his shoulder trying to make your head stop spinning. It wasn’t working.

A whimper escaped you as Jungkook started moving forward. The crumbling department was only something you were able to imagine as you refused to look. No matter how hard you shut your eyes, however, it wouldn’t stop the sounds of men yelling for backup and others in pain. The pops of bullets leaving the chambers and the clamoring of feet to escape.

“I’ve got you, my love,” Jungkook hummed against your cheek. “I’ve always got you.”

If you were stronger you would’ve clamored out of his arms and moved away. You would spit curses at him and inform him that he was delusional. You would never be his any longer, but before the blackness overtook you a tiny voice reminded you that you were a liar.

You would always be his.

Shatter With Me | Waving The White Flag

↳ Model!Jungkook x Surrogate!f.Reader ⤜ Surrogacy, Best Friend's Husband ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 18,286 ⚠️ Crass language, talk of infertility, drinking, very mild bullying and references to cruel behavior/words, talk of surrogacy, at-home medical procedure, genital touching (non-sexual), planned pregnancy, talk of pregnancy termination/abortion, BIG hurt feelings, open palm slapping, accusations of infidelity

Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon) ◅ Back to story masterlist

Jungkook

Jungkook never thought he’d be haunted by such a small, seemingly insignificant thing. A tiny pastel pink line. Singular. Just like all the ones before it. He’s lost count of exactly how many, but it’s been years; every month, the same outcome. A singular pink line telling him he’s failed. He knows that’s a bit harsh, but it’s how he’s starting to feel—like a complete and utter failure.

“We’ll try again next month,” Jiyoon offers, dropping the offending piece of plastic in the bathroom trash before giving Jungkook a tight smile.

“Have you given any more thought to trying IVF again?” Jungkook asks hesitantly, knowing that’s a sore subject. But, dammit, he’s not in the proper headspace right now to think better of it.

Jiyoon glares at him, her pouty pink lips drawing taut. “I told you not to ask me that ever again. Now, get out. I’d like to take a shower.” When Jungkook doesn’t immediately move from his perch on the bathroom counter, she tags on a frustrated, “Please.”

Jungkook hops down, his socked feet swishing over the tiled floor as he retreats into the master bedroom. The door forcefully shuts right on his heels, echoing the hollow ache in the center of his chest. He promised himself that if it didn’t happen this time, he’d just try harder next time.

Yet, there is only so much he can do. Pushing any harder might widen the rift slowly forming between him and his wife. Already, Jiyoon spends more time at work than with him. Her glares of irritation any time he seeks intimacy outside of their strict ovulation schedule are like holes being punched into his resolve.

After nearly two years of trying, he sought medical answers a year ago. Jiyoon was quite cross with him when she found out he went to the doctor, but he needed to know if it was his fault they were having trouble conceiving. The numbers were standard, slightly higher than average even. The utter devastation on Jiyoon’s face, he’ll never be able to forget that day. Because if he isn’t the problem…then that means she is.

It’s his fault. He wasn’t even thinking about that potential. Jiyoon hasn’t been the same since. That’s when the schedule came into play. That’s when she started to pour far more energy into waiting for the perfect moment instead of just enjoying their time together.

Jungkook can see the disappointment, the guilt that eats away at her each time that single pink line reveals itself. He wishes more than anything there was a way to change it, something more he could do. Yet, she refuses to consider the option of IVF, not after the horror story she heard from her friend Dani. She refuses to even talk about it.

There has to be another way; he’s just not sure what it might be. Jungkook is at a loss, and it feels like the weight of the world is sitting heavy right between his shoulders. The shower kicks on in the bathroom, and Jungkook decides to busy himself by making Jiyoon a cup of tea for when she gets out. He knows she’ll want to spend some time relaxing before bed, and tea always helps.

💔💔💔

Not a day goes by that you don’t think about your best friend, Jiyoon, and the unfortunate circumstances that have befallen her and her husband. It’s not a secret amongst your peers that they’ve been trying to start a family with no luck for several years. It breaks your heart every time she gives you a shake of her head when you look at her with hopeful eyes.

Today isn’t any different. You’re sitting at your desk, absently clicking through the latest portfolio files you got from Namjoon, when Jiyoon walks by your desk, heading toward hers. She’s half an hour late this morning, something that’s pretty routine every few weeks. It’s like clockwork. You’re aware of the ovulation schedule that she and Jungkook keep and know that she allows herself extra time the morning after taking a test to steel herself against the disappointment that will come from the pitying stares in the office.

You catch her eye as she settles into her desk chair, and she gives you that subtle shake of her head. There is tension in her shoulders, and her bottom lip looks like she’s been chewing on it in irritation, but she turns around and gives you her back before you can think to question her about it.

“Morning, Jiyoon,” Namjoon says as he steps out of his office. Namjoon is also well aware of the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Jiyoon and Jungkook. It’s why he doesn’t hassle her about being late, something you’re endlessly grateful for.

Jiyoon is your only friend, and you are very protective of her. Well, that’s not entirely true. The protective part is, but she’s not technically your only friend. She’s just the longest friend you’ve had and the one you hold closest to your heart—your best friend. Though, even still, everyone else are really just people you know through Jiyoon or from work. Maybe that’s sad, but you don’t mind it.

“Jiyoon!” Dani squeals from the other side of the office. The bubbly, energetic woman flits across the room, looking every inch like a fairy with her blond pixie cut, petite stature, and buttoned nose.

“Oh gosh, hey. Come here!” Jiyoon swings her chair toward Dani as she beckons her forward, letting you catch a glimpse of her profile. There is a smile on her face, but it’s hard to tell whether it’s strained or not. Jiyoon has always been beautiful, with not a single wrinkle or blemish in sight. Looking at her body language, it’s even harder to tell.

Giggles punctuate their whispered words as Dani crouches beside Jiyoon’s chair, their heads pressed close together. You watch as Dani slips something into Jiyoon’s hand before she stands and waggles her brows down at your friend.

“Have fun,” Dani sing-songs as she prances away from Jiyoon’s desk. Her gunmetal eyes meet yours, and her face sours before she disappears beyond your cubicle.

“What’s that?” you ask a beat after she’s gone and before you can curb your curiosity, tinged with mild jealousy. Dani has made it clear before that she doesn’t like you very much, only tolerating you for Jiyoon’s sake. So, it’s no surprise that you don’t find yourself included when it comes to anything involving Dani—it’s something you’ve chalked up to her own jealousy, perhaps at the fact you’ve been Jiyoon’s friend for so long.

Jiyoon flicks her eyes in your direction before stuffing whatever Dani gave her into her purse. “Just some antacids,” she says, giving you a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

All suspicions disappear as you take in the controlled curve of her lips. She looks miserable. “Oh,” is all you can manage before Namjoon calls everyone’s attention to the front of the room.

“Good morning, everyone. Let’s start this week off on the right foot. We have reports to file and new contracts to negotiate…”

You and Jiyoon have always aspired to work for a marketing and media agency together. So, when the opportunity presented itself, you both were elated to land jobs with Kim Exclusives, one of the most popular management companies for up-and-coming artists, models, and influencers.

That was seven years ago, and your time here has only solidified your friendship with Jiyoon. She met her husband, Jungkook, through the agency. He was one of the first models signed to Kim Exclusives, and you and Jiyoon both handled his portfolio and schedule for a year before she had to give you sole leadership over it once they became intimately involved—the whole conflict of interests thing.

“Are we still meeting tonight?” you ask Jiyoon as the day draws to a close. She’s still diligently working away at her computer, and you stand outside her cubicle with your bag on your shoulder.

“Hmm? Oh. Umm, yeah, I guess. I might be a bit late, though.”

You peek over her shoulder. “Is that the new Song profile?”

“Yep,” she pops the end of the word, keying you into thinking she's not in the mood to chat right now.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you guys later then.”

Jiyoon makes a noncommittal sound, already focused back on her work. You miss the days when she would give you more than a few passing words. Even on her good days, it seems like she’s growing further and further away from you. It’s hard not to feel guilty over the bitter and lonely feelings you get when you think about it. It’s not Jiyoon’s fault that you don’t have more close friends to turn to. But sometimes you wish you meant as much to her as she does to you.

As soon as that thought crosses your mind, you mentally kick yourself. It’s not fair for you to think that. You know Jiyoon cares for you; she’s just had a rough few years, and you shouldn’t be making it about yourself.

Feeling truly like a shit friend, you continue to chastise yourself over the next two hours as you commute home and get ready for tonight. Five minutes away from the pub, you consider calling Jiyoon and canceling. But, just as you pull out your phone to do that, someone calls your name from down the sidewalk.

You turn to see Taehyung and Jungkook waving at you from across the street. Well, there goes your intention to cancel.

“Hey! Have you heard from Jiyoon?” Jungkook asks as he and Taehyung jog across the street.

You press your lips into a thin line, confused. “Did she not come home?”

“Ah, no. She said she was working late and that I should just go ahead and meet up with you and Taehyung. She’s, uh, well, she’s not answering my calls. We—this morning…sorry, just, have you talked to her?”

Doing your best to keep your eyes on his, you give him an honest answer, “She was still working when I left the office. I haven’t heard from her since.” Losing the battle against your will, your eyes sweep over your best friend’s husband. He’s just as gorgeous as he always has been. His hair is a little longer than the last time you saw him, licking at the collar of his denim jacket. As the lead on his contract, you know he recently landed a massive campaign with a new clothing company, their emblem stitched onto the breast of the coat. Jungkook looks every inch the model he is; his friend no less so.

“Hey! Happy Birthday!” Taehyung greets you as your eyes swing to him.

Warm embarrassment kisses your cheeks. You hate your birthday; you hate being the center of attention. “Thanks,” you murmur, giving him a tight smile.

“Oh, yeah, happy birthday,” Jungkook tacks on. He rubs the back of his neck, giving you an apologetic look. “Should we go ahead and go inside?”

“Yeah, sure.” As Taehyung leads the way inside, you type out a quick text to Jiyoon asking how long she’ll be.

Thirty minutes later, you’re sitting in a mildly withdrawn personal bubble of silence as Jungkook and Taehyung chat about work and sip on fingers of liquor. You’re normally not so silent with them, as they have been clients of yours for years but you’ve also grown to think of them as friends. It’s just you have a lot on your plate right now, Namjoon just added three new clients to your work portfolio, putting you at juggling almost a dozen. You don’t mind the added workload, it helps keep you busy, but it does mean you have to switch around your schedule a great deal and have less time to spend with Jungkook and Taehyung who are two of the longest portfolios you’ve managed. They have a joint ad campaign coming up for the whiskey they’re sampling right now and are trying to decide if they actually like it or not.

Over the years, you've learned that advertisements are just that—a cleverly crafted piece of media to highlight a product. The models in a hamburger ad could very well be vegan, but they’re paid to make you believe otherwise. So, even if they decide they don’t like the whiskey, money will say they do.

Taehyung is a bit newer to Kim Exclusives, a model by complete accident. He came into the office once with Jungkook, just friends hanging out with each other, and the moment Namjoon saw him, he had to have him. A few weeks later, Taehyung was added to the roster of elite models under Kim Exclusives, booking just as well as any veteran.

“It’s a little too smokey for me, I think,” Taehyung comments. “What do you think?” he asks, setting his glass on the table and startling you out of your thoughts.

“What?” You blink up at him, totally lost.

“Give it a taste.” He taps the rim of the glass. “Tell me what you think,” he encourages, pushing the glass closer to where your hands are clasped together on the table.

You don’t really want to try the whiskey, but the expectant looks on Taehyung and Jungkook’s faces make you pick up the glass and take a tentative sip. It burns across your tongue, coating your throat in a fiery, smokey blend of burnt spices. The flavor sits like ash in your mouth.

“It’s, uh…”

“Not great, right?” Jungkook gives you a lopsided grin, his shoulders stretching the seams of his jean jacket as he shrugs. “It’s okay to be honest about it.”

You slide the glass back across the tabletop toward Taehyung. “Yeah, it’s not great. It might be better on ice, but I’m not a big drinker, so I think it’s hard for me to judge it fairly.”

They both seem satisfied with this response and resume their conversation about the whiskey and the new campaign. You check your phone, wondering where Jiyoon could possibly be. There is no response to your text.

You’re picking at the frayed edge of the paper coaster that’s slowly growing waterlogged from the condensation dripping down your glass of ice water when Taehyung taps on the table in front of you, trying to capture your attention.

“Isn’t that right?” he asks.

“Sorry. Is what right?” You feel heat bloom in your cheeks at being caught not paying attention yet again.

“You’re healthy.”

That statement has confusion replacing your embarrassment. “Healthy?”

“Let me backtrack,” Taehyung says, leaning back in his seat and throwing an arm over the back of Jungkook’s chair.

“Taehyung, really, this isn’t the time—”

“Ahem,” Taehyung interrupts Jungkook’s protest. “Hypothetically speaking, if your best friend and her husband were to inquire of you about the possibility of surrogacy, what would you say?”

The dots aren’t connecting for you, and his blunt question makes you feel like you missed something important. “Surrogacy?” You don’t mean to sound like a broken record, repeating what Taehyung is saying, but you’re thoroughly having a tough time understanding.

“Listen, you don’t have to answer that,” Jungkook states, shaking his head at Taehyung and giving him a pleading look that says to stop while he’s ahead.

“Are you and Jiyoon looking into a surrogate?” you ask; everything suddenly clicks into place, and the question tumbles from your lips before you can stop it. 

Jungkook grips the back of his neck and grumbles something incoherent towards Taehyung before he blows out a heavy breath and his eyes slowly rise to meet yours. “Not exactly, no. We haven’t talked about it yet. It’s just something I read about today. But, honestly, you don’t have to answer the question. Taehyung is just being a dick—”

“I’d do it.”

Your response leaves Jungkook with his mouth open and jaw slack as he stares at you in bewilderment.

“See, I told you. She’s perfect. Young, healthy, and someone you know and can trust,” Taehyung tots off, waving a finger in the air.

“Wait…are you serious?” Jungkook asks, pointedly ignoring Taehyung.

You’ve never considered being a mom before, at least not in that sense. It was always an assumption that it wouldn’t be in the cards for you—the whole lack of a love life thing being the crux of it. You’ve barely had a handful of boyfriends, much less a long-term commitment that would lead to a family. But, when it comes to Jiyoon, you’d do just about anything for her. So, if she asked you to carry a baby for her, you know, without a doubt, you’d do it.

“Y-yeah. Yes,” you state with more confidence. “I’d do that.”

Before Jungkook can respond, Jiyoon bustles in through the bar's front door, her lilting laughter drawing everyone’s attention. She has her phone pressed to her ear, and she’s smiling at whatever the person she’s speaking to is saying.

“Okay, yeah. Tomorrow sounds great. See you then,” Jiyoon says before ending the call and pocketing her phone. “Oh, Taehyung is here.” It’s a bland statement, Jiyoon’s eyes flicking over Jungkook’s best friend before landing on her husband. “Did you order me a drink already?”

Jungkook clears his throat, trying to compose himself before speaking. “Babe, hey. Um, no, I wasn’t sure when you’d get here. You weren’t responding to any of my calls or texts.”

Jiyoon slides into the empty seat beside you, across from Jungkook, and gives you a quick smile before wrinkling her nose in his direction. “I’ll take a glass of red.”

“Oh-kay,” Jungkook says slowly, a look of confusion ghosting over his features. “Where have you been?”

“Hmm? Oh, just busy with work,” Jiyoon says. “Wine, please, Jungkook.” His only response is a tight press of his lips before he stands up and disappears in the direction of the bar. Jiyoon clicks her tongue and angles herself to look at you. “You’re not drinking?” she asks, eyeing the glass of water on the table in front of you.

“Um, no. You know I don’t—”

“I know, you’re boring,” Jiyoon sighs. The only thing taking the sting out of her words is the smile she gives you. You know Jiyoon isn’t exactly what people would call a nice person; in fact, she’s often coined as a ‘mean girl.’ But she’s never been intentionally mean to you, not really. She just provides constructive criticism and encouragement to be the best version of yourself that you can be.

“Way to be a bitch to her on her birthday, Jiyoon,” Taehyung mumbles into his whiskey glass before tossing it back and downing the rest.

Jiyoon winces and then plasters a smile on her face before saying, “Right, happy birthday.”

“Yeah, thanks.” You make your best attempt at nonchalance, but you’re not sure it lands properly as Taehyung shakes his head, and Jiyoon sighs again.

“I forgot, okay? It’s been so busy at work and with—uh,” she pauses for just a second, and any other time you might not have noticed, but you can’t help but pick up on the way she rushes to continue, “the new client that you know Namjoon has been breathing down my neck over. The Harper portfolio, you know the one? And apparently, the Song profile needs to be redone on top of that.”

Jiyoon has been different lately. You’re aware that she took over one of the new higher-end clients, some big hot-shot movie star or something like that, but it’s almost made her seem like she thinks she’s above everyone else. It makes things tense sometimes like everyone is on edge when she comes around. You try to ignore it, for the sake of tonight. “It’s okay, Jiyoon, really.”

“Anyway, how are things going? It’s been a few weeks since we last talked about something other than work.”

Yeah, because every time you turn around Jiyoon is spending time with Dani or has a client meeting. You shrug. “Okay, I guess.”

Taehyung pipes up in the silence that follows, “We were actually just talking about surroga—”

“Red wine for my wife, another whiskey for Tae, the good stuff this time, and a pina colada for the birthday girl. Virgin, I made sure. I know you don’t like to drink alcohol,” Jungkook interrupts Taehyung, passing out the cluster of drinks in his hands.

You stare up at Jungkook, lips slightly parted as you try to think of the proper response, completely taken off guard by his gesture. Finally, you lamely offer, “Oh, uh, you didn’t have to, but thanks.”

“Nonsense. It’s your birthday, you deserve a little treat, and I know you like pineapple.” Jungkook settles back into his seat, and you try to keep your eyes off your best friend's husband. But it’s hard with how his hair falls into his face, and the denim hugs his shoulders as he relaxes against the back of his chair.

“Ew,” Jiyoon gags dramatically, startling your attention in her direction. “Is that a jacket from the shoot today?” She gestures at Jungkook, the distaste apparent on her face. “I know they didn’t dress you in that. What were they thinking?”

Jungkook frowns, staring down at the oversized light-wash jean jacket. “You don’t like it?” he asks.

Jiyoon scoffs, “It looks ridiculous, you look ridiculous. What the hell did you do to your hair? A mullet, really? It’s a wonder you’re a model. You were okay with this?” The last part is directed at you, because, as the lead on his profile, you’re the one who signed off on the hair and makeup for the shoot.

“Hey now,” Taehyung states loud enough to quiet the table; he’s clearly not having any of Jiyoon’s antics tonight, long work day or not. “Keep your petty bullshit opinions for when you’re at home. Tonight isn’t about you or how handsome my best friend is in his jean jacket and new hairstyle.” You can tell he intentionally calls Jungkook his best friend instead of Jiyoon’s husband as an extra jab.

“I never said he wasn’t handsome,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes before looking at Jungkook and sighing. “Sorry, dear, I’m just under a lot of stress. You know I didn’t mean it.” Her eyes flick to yours. “I know it’s not your fault.” You just give her a subtle shake of your head, not sure how to respond.

Clearing his throat, Jungkook smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes, and tries to move the conversation along. “It’s okay. Let’s just focus on why we’re here tonight.” He swings his eyes toward you, his smile becoming genuine, and begins to loudly belt out Happy Birthday, much to your dismay. This draws the attention of everyone else in the bar and earns you a generous round of applause when the singing finally fades.

You try to enjoy the rest of your night, but every time Jungkook catches you staring at him, you can’t help but feel a small spike of guilt; guilt over the perhaps tiny, mostly insignificant, completely harmless crush you might, perhaps, maybe have on your best friend’s husband.

It’s hard not to be attracted to him; Jiyoon knows that—she flaunts that fact. She also knows her claws are deep in him, and he’s not going anywhere. Jungkook would pull down the moon for her and then ask if she wanted the sun, too. You swallow down the last of your pina colada, eyes once again locked on Jungkook as he throws his head back and laughs at something Taehyung said.

Jiyoon presses her arm against yours, leaning in close to you. In a soft voice meant only for you, she whispers, “He really is perfect, isn’t he?”

“Hm? Who?”

“Don’t play coy with me,” she giggles drunkenly. “I know you were staring at him. My husband.”

You shrug. “I wasn’t staring.”

Jiyoon sighs wistfully. “It’s okay to stare, I don’t mind. I know what he looks like, after all. He’s so beautiful when he’s happy. I wish I could give him what he wants, he’d be the perfect father…I’m so scared to lose him.” The last part is whispered, so soft it’s hard to hear.

Instantly, your guilt turns into something else: resolve. You can’t bear the defeat you hear in her voice. It’s not something you can even begin to fathom—what she and Jungkook are going through. It’s no wonder she has caustic words at times. You meant what you said earlier, what you told Jungkook you were willing to do. With that in mind, you make a mental note to start researching and do what you can to make sure at least someone gets a happy ending here.

💔💔💔

Jungkook

The night of your birthday kept playing over and over again in Jungkook’s head the days that followed. Now, just as evening is rolling around, one week later, he can’t stop thinking about what you said, your confirmation. On top of that, that night was probably the most fun Jungkook has had in a long time—as long as he excludes the prickly start after Jiyoon arrived. He’s used to her snide and biting remarks after a long work day. Brushing them to the side and sweeping them away is usually easy.

But for some reason—perhaps it was the high he was riding after your confession and confirmation—it bothered him that she was doing it in front of Taehyung—in front of you. As if somehow her criticisms might make you both believe them. Not that he cares about being good-looking to Taehyung, or you for that matter, not really. It’s just that his first thought was what if that made you change your mind? Not necessarily whether or not he’s attractive, but the exchange as a whole. What if Jiyoon’s blatant criticisms made you want to change your mind because it somehow planted doubt in your mind that they’re a happy and healthy environment for a child?

“Jungkook.” The frustrated snap of his name brings him out of his thoughts. His eyes focus on the bathroom mirror once more, on Jiyoon, who is standing behind him with her hands on her hips, accentuating the flattering cut of the navy-colored dress she’s wearing. “Are you even listening to me?”

Turning and leaning back against the counter, Jungkook gives her his full attention. “Uh, yeah, sorry. You were talking about having dinner with a client tonight, and you’re leaving now to meet with Dani so you can get some files.”

“Yes,” she says, her lips twitching in mild surprise, and Jungkook knows she was expecting him not to have been paying attention. “I don’t know how long the dinner will last, so don’t wait up for me. It’s likely I’ll be home late.” She turns to go back into the bedroom, and Jungkook isn’t sure what possesses him, but he surges forward and gently snags her wrist, turning her back toward him. “Uh?” she makes a sound of mild questioning irritation.

“I have something I need—er, want—to talk to you about. It should only take a moment.”

She shakes his hold off her wrist and gives him a placating smile. “Okay, well, talk while I finish getting ready at least.” Not waiting to see if he follows, she disappears into the bedroom and heads to the closet, rummaging through her jewelry.

“Okay, um. Okay,” Jungkook stumbles over his words, feeling like he’s under pressure for some reason. “So, the other night, it was brought up in conversation, and uh, she already agreed, and it’s just that, well, there’s this thing called intracervical insemination and…how do you feel about surrogacy?”

There is a heavy pause, dread threatening to make Jungkook backpedal and eat his words just to snatch them back out of the air. Jiyoon glances at him over her shoulder, but he can’t get a clear read on her eyes. “What? Oh, yeah, sure,” she says, turning back to her digging.

Jungkook can’t tell whether Jiyoon is the one paying attention to him now, so he probes further, just to be clear. “You mean that? You’re okay with going the surrogacy route? My sperm, her egg…your best friend carrying our baby?”

Jiyoon’s back is to Jungkook, but he watches how her shoulders slide up in a shrug. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’m not sure, it’s just that with ICI—”

“Look, Jungkook,” Jiyoon says, turning to face him fully. Her fingers work at slipping a pair of silver hoops into her earlobes. “I trust you.” She says the words slowly, keeping her eyes intently locked on his. “I know you’ll do your best for us. Whatever you want, it’s what I want, too. You know that.”

“Well, um, do you have any questions? We should talk…discuss this, er, something. I know how you feel about IVF. I want to make sure this is an option you truly want, and you’re not just saying this to make me happy. You should take some more time to think about it.” The fact she’s so quick to agree makes Jungkook question whether or not he’s hearing what he thinks he’s hearing.

Jiyoon cups one of his cheeks, gently thumbing over his bottom lip. “I don’t need time to think, because I’ve already thought about it. I—well, I was going to bring it up to you soon, but I wanted to do a bit more research first.”

“Wait, what? Really? You were thinking about ICI, too?” Jungkook swallows hard, leaning into his wife's warm touch.

“Yeah,” she whispers, her soft smile making her eyes twinkle and his heart melt.

Jungkook can’t help letting his eyes drink in his wife. They might have been going through rough patches the last few years, but that hasn’t lessened how he feels about her. Jungkook has always found her strikingly beautiful, with long legs and shiny hair that he loves to run his fingers through. But at this moment, he feels like he might burst with the love he has for her.

“Yeah? Okay. Okay,” he tries to suppress the emotion in his words. “Okay, perfect. I love you. I love you so much!”

Jiyoon laughs, and it sounds magical, as Jungkook sweeps her into his arms and plants a kiss on her lips. “Don’t smear my lipstick, please,” she mumbles, her voice light and playful.

“Go have a good dinner, secure the client, and don’t worry about anything else,” Jungkook bubbles happily, setting Jiyoon back on her feet. “I swear I’ll take care of it all. Everything will be perfect, absolutely perfect.”

An hour later, Jungkook walks up to your apartment door. He couldn’t stop himself earlier, so he immediately texted you and asked to see you as soon as Jiyoon left for Dani’s.

The door swings open before he can knock, revealing you standing there breathless and in a set of purple checkered pajamas. “Is everything okay?” you ask, worry lines creasing between your brows. “Your text sounded urgent.”

“Oh.” Jungkook feels terrible for making you concerned. He didn’t mean for it to come off like that. “No, I mean, yes, everything is okay. But, no, it’s not exactly urgent. Sorry for that. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

You lean against the doorframe, eyes wide on his. “What is it?”

“Er, uh, do you mind if I come in? This is more of a sit-down kind of conversation.”

The little ‘o’ your lips form is far cuter than Jungkook has a right to think it is. His mind instantly latches onto it, wondering if the baby would have your lips or his. “O-okay, sure, come on in.”

Jungkook has visited your apartment a handful of times over the years. It’s quaint and cozy, exactly what he’d imagine for you. There are books everywhere, shelves full of thick and thin volumes of literary prose. A few art pieces decorate the walls, along with dozens and dozens of black-and-white photos in simple frames. He stirs up the recollection that you enjoy photography in your spare time.

“Sorry, again, about my text. I didn’t mean to worry you, really.” Jungkook feels nervous, unsure where to stand or even sit, until you gesture toward the couch. A handful of well-loved decorative pillows are scattered across the burgundy suede. He settles at one end as you take the other, looking at him expectantly.

A beat or two passes, and Jungkook feels like he’s about to swallow his tongue until you open your mouth, clearly picking up on his distress. “Is it something with work? I can try to fix whatever it is first thing in the morning—”

“No, no,” Jungkook holds up a hand, shaking his head. “It’s not work. It’s um, it’s actually Jiyoon. Well, me and her, specifically.”

You pull your knees up and tuck your feet underneath yourself. “Oh, okay.”

“Were you serious about what you said the other night?” Jungkook blurts, figuring it’s best, like ripping off a bandaid.

Your bottom lip has an indent left from where you tucked it between your teeth before nodding. “Yes.” Jungkook didn’t necessarily expect you to say no, but the rush of relief he feels at hearing that encourages him to press on.

“I talked with Jiyoon about it today and she—we—would be honored if you’d do that for us. If you’d give us a chance at having a family. It’s…it’s something we both, deeply, deeply desire. If you’re truly serious about it, we’ll take care of everything, all medical expenses, bills, anything…just name it, it’s yours.”

“That’s—okay, okay, yes. Yes, I’ll do it. Just tell me what I need to do.”

Jungkook whoops loudly, jumping up from the couch, and drags you into his arms for a bear hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can’t even begin to explain what this means to me, to us. This is…I can’t…oh my, I need to—wait, okay. Sorry, let me calm down for a second.” The word vomit is real, and Jungkook uses his hold on you to ground himself, moving his hands to your shoulders and locking his eyes on yours. “I think I might pass out,” he whispers a second before bursting into a giddy laugh.

“Whoa, um, sit down. Please don’t pass out on me. You’re too big for me to catch!” Your frantic words make him laugh even harder.

He shakes his head, on cloud nine. “I’m kidding, kind of. I just feel…I feel so light, like—well, it doesn’t matter about that. What matters is you. Please don’t feel obligated to do this. That’s the last thing I want. If you are serious, I can send all the information you need to you in the morning. But only if you’re certain.”

“Jungkook,” the way you say his name makes his heart thump heavy in his chest as if his fate hinges on whatever comes next. “I am serious. I promise. I want to do this for you, for Jiyoon…I want to give you both the happiness you deserve.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook says fervently, never meaning something more in his life.

This happiness carries Jungkook through the rest of the evening, turning into a brilliant flame of intimacy when Jiyoon crawls into bed beside him hours later. For the first time in a long time, there is no schedule, no waiting for the perfect moment; it’s just the love shared between two souls celebrating the joys of life.

💔💔💔

The following day, several emails from Jungkook are waiting for you; Jiyoon CC’d on them all, as well as a few texts to check in. The idea that you could possibly be pregnant in the coming weeks or months—not just pregnant, but pregnant with Jungkook’s baby for your best friend—still feels a bit surreal.

You texted Jiyoon last night, expressing to her how much she means to you and that you’re honored she wants it to be you that helps her fulfill her dreams of having a family. She hasn’t replied yet, but that doesn’t bother you; she’s probably busy helping Jungkook with planning.

There is an entire email dedicated to medical referrals. Apparently, Jungkook spent hours pouring over all the local doctors and medical facilities vetting to find the best ones. Each has notes and suggestions under them, along with all the information you might need to call and make an appointment.

That’s really all you need to do: make an appointment for a check-up. Taehyung made an assumption of your health last night, but it doesn’t hurt to be sure. The last thing you’d want to do is be in poor health and unable to keep your word.

Your fingers tremble as you dial the numbers, and you have to take a few shallow breaths to get your voice to work properly. Minutes later, you have an appointment scheduled for later this week. Now, all you have to do is figure out how you’re going to wait the next few days and not burst from anticipation. It’s a slow few days.

Apparently, by Googling every possible thing you can think of about being a surrogate and pregnancies. Along with the emails full of information, by the time you’re walking into the clinic for your appointment at the end of the week, you feel confident asking questions.

“Being a surrogate is a pretty serious situation. Have you considered all the possibilities and what might be required of you?” The doctor has a pleasant demeanor; her eyes are intense yet kind. It might be the steel-colored strands scattered through her hair or the wrinkles that deepen around her eyes when she smiles, but you feel comfortable opening up to her.

You roll your lips between your teeth before saying, “Honestly? Probably not as much as most surrogates. I’m sure there are things I’m not aware of yet. It was only presented to me a few days ago. But I have done some extensive reading and soul-searching, and I know it’s what I want.”

Dr. Lee contemplates you for a moment before nodding. “Yes, I believe you do. Let’s get started, shall we?”

It’s not uncomfortable going through all the tests and procedures. There isn’t much the doctor does that you haven’t done before. Samples are taken, and a routine exam is performed. As you leave, the nurse tells you you should have results within the next two weeks.

Thankfully, the results come at the beginning of the following week. You’re sitting at your desk at work, reviewing the final details for the whiskey campaign Jungkook and Taehyung are shooting in a few days, when you get the notification that your results are viewable on your patient portal. A moment before you click into the email, your phone buzzes in your pocket.

“Hello?” you whisper, cupping your hand around the base of your phone and mouth. A nurse rattles off your information, ensuring she speaks to the right person. “Yes, speaking.”

“I just wanted to let you know that all of your results are in, and Dr. Lee has signed off on your request to move forward with the surrogacy…” Everything else the nurse says is a bit hazy. She covers the numbers for your tests and where to find resources for more information on at-home intracervical insemination. “Do you have any questions for me? Ma’am, are you still there?”

“Oh, umm, yes, sorry. No questions, thank you so much.”

The line disconnects, and you sit there for a few more moments, the phone still held to your ear, as you try to process the giddy feeling bubbling up inside you. You need to tell Jiyoon, Jungkook, someone…anyone. Pushing up from your desk, you scan the area around you for your best friend and come up empty.

“Hello?” Jungkook answers on the second ring.

“Jungkook.”

“Oh, hey. Everything okay?”

“What? Oh. Yes. Yes, everything is okay. Everything is perfect. Do you know where Jiyoon might be? I haven’t seen her since she came into the office this morning.” You rack your brain, trying to remember if you saw her leave or go into another room.

“Yeah, she called a little while ago and said that Namjoon was having her meet one of the new clients for lunch to sign some more papers.”

“Right, that’s right,” you say, recalling that Namjoon asked her to come into his office shortly after she arrived this morning.

“Why? What’s up?”

You drag a slow, shallow breath into your lungs in an effort to slow your rapidly beating heart. “I heard back from the doctor.”

Jungkook urges you to continue, “Yeah? What did they say? Is everything okay? Are you okay?”

“I’m…I’m great. I’m perfect. I’m—I, I can do it. We can do it. There’s a chart,” you explain, wedging your phone between your ear and your shoulder to free your hands so you can pull up the email you got and forward it to him. “It has an estimated schedule and recommendations on timing for the best results. I just sent everything over to you.”

“I got it. Wow. Okay. Wow. Oh my…wow! I need to call Jiyoon. Fuck. Oh my god. Okay, thank you! I’ll call you back later, okay?” The line disconnects after Jungkook says a hurried goodbye, the elation in his voice evident.

According to the doctor's ovulation chart, the best time for you to begin trying is next week. Conception is most likely during a twenty-four-hour period. On your way home, you stop and pick up an ovulation testing kit so you can remain on track.

You arrive home filled with nervous energy, unable to stop smiling as you unpack the things you picked up at the pharmacy. A large box of pregnancy tests goes beside the ovulation kit in your medicine cabinet, along with a pack of medical gloves and hand sanitizer. You’re not sure what you’ll need, exactly, but you figure it’s better to have it and not need it than the other way around.

“Jiyoon!” you gush, swiping to answer the call coming in on your phone. “Hi!”

“Hey, I just got off the phone with Jungkook.” There is a lot of background noise, and it’s hard to hear her clearly.

“Oh, wonderful! I got the results today. There is a possibility of next week being—”

A loud laugh cuts through from Jiyoon’s end, the added clang of dishes drowning you out further. “Sorry, I’m still at dinner. Next week, you say? I’ll be going on a business trip the whole of next week, Namjoon wants me to travel with a client for a go-see.”

Disappointment drags at your shoulders and has your smile softening into a frown. You suppose it can wait a few more weeks. “Okay, no problem. That will give us time to plan a bit more anyway.”

“Sure thing!” Jiyoon yells, the line cutting out momentarily. “I’ll catch you later. I can’t wait to see you when I get back. Thank you. I love you so much!”

“Okay, yeah, love you—” The line goes dead before you can finish. “Love you, too,” you murmur into the quiet of your apartment.

A minor setback. But it’s okay; you’re sure you were getting ahead of yourself anyway. Taking a few weeks to confirm things and actually come up with a game plan is probably for the better. But it doesn’t hurt to start doing that now. Letting the smile that hadn’t left your face most of the day slide back onto your lips, you continue setting up everything in your bathroom so it’ll be there for when you do need it.

It turns out you don’t have to wait—at least, according to Jungkook. From the constant flood of text messages you’ve gotten from him over the last few days, as much as Jiyoon would love to be there to help, she’s given her blessing to proceed with the ICI without her. In her own words, via a text you got last night, there will be plenty more for her to be present for, and she’s far too excited for you to wait for her to return.

Jiyoon has been relatively quiet, but Jungkook explained in delicate words that she’s okay; she just has a lot on her plate right now. Even though it may seem like she’s on the outside, it’s more that this is a very sensitive topic for Jiyoon. Despite wanting a child, ICI is nearly as taboo a subject as IVF when it comes to Jiyoon; you know this. She’s told you how much it makes her feel like a failure. So, you’re content when Jungkook takes full responsibility for the surrogacy journey and has promised to be there for you every step of the way, including coming over to your place tonight to help you with the first ICI attempt.

You’ve been testing your ovulation each morning, and the positive test strip in your bathroom trash has started a full-tilt, day-long extravaganza. It’s a Thursday, just a few days after you got your green light from the doctor, meaning you were able to leave work early and are now sitting on your couch waiting patiently for Jungkook to arrive.

All your research and reading about ICI makes you nervous about what’s to come. It’s not that you’re going to be explicitly intimate with Jungkook, but you’re well aware of the fact that fresh sperm samples, as in within a thirty-minute window, are the best. Which means, he’s going to have to somehow provide the sample while he’s here.

The idea of Jungkook masturbating in your bathroom should feel awkward or perhaps embarrassing to think about, yet you’re oddly comfortable with it. It’s a natural thing, something necessary to create something that’s going to be beautiful.

By the time Jungkook knocks on your door, your hands are clammy, and it takes you two tries to get the handle to turn. He greets you with a giant smile and shining eyes, absolutely breathtaking.

“Hi,” he breathes.

“Hi,” you parrot, unable to contain from reflecting the smile still on his face. “Please, come on in.”

“Thanks.” Jungkook steps past you, and the soft fragrance of his laundry detergent catches in your nose. “I brought everything we need,” he says, holding up a bag. He’s wearing the same denim jacket he was the other night, a white T-shirt underneath above a pair of worn, light-washed jeans, and black boots on his feet that he toes off before heading into your living room.

“Can I get you anything to drink or maybe something to eat? Have you had dinner yet?” You’re not sure how this is going to go, if it’s just going to be a clinical experience or something more comfortable between friends. Because you are friends, right? At this point, you should consider him more than just your best friend’s husband; he should at least be seen as a friend of yours, too.

Jungkook deposits the bag on your couch and turns to look at you. “Um, maybe if you had some beer or something, but I know you don’t drink—” There is a nervous energy to the way he’s talking, words coming out a little too quickly “—so, er, maybe just some water is fine.”

“Actually,” you say, hurrying into the kitchen and opening the fridge, “I got, well, is this okay?” You hold up a 6-pack of beer you bought on a whim a few nights ago. It’s true that you don’t really drink, but you weren’t thinking of yourself at the time that you bought it. In actuality, you were thinking of Jungkook, knowing he’s partial to this brand, and figured…well, you’re not sure what you figured, you bought it before you could give it too much thought.

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth lifts, his smile turning into a light smirk. “Wow, my favorite. I’d love to, but actually, I’m not sure if I should, no matter how nervous I am right now…not until after, at least. I haven’t read anything about how alcohol might impact things, but I’ve not had a drop of alcohol to drink nor a bite of junk food in the last week, just in case.”

“Oh, right. Of course, I should have thought about that.”

“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t thinking either, I haven’t been able to think about much at all, if I’m being honest,” Jungkook laughs nervously, one of his hands rubbing at the back of his neck. “Is this weird? Are you sure you want to do this?”

It is weird, but not in a bad way, and you don’t want to admit that because you don’t want him to worry. So, you simply smile and shake your head. “It’s not all that weird, it’s…well, just not weird. I am nervous,” you decide to give him at least that. “I’m worried that it might not work, or that I might do something wrong.”

“W-what do you think you might do wrong?” Jungkook asks, moving closer to you. “I’ve…I’ve read a lot about the how, I even got an informational video from my doctor.”

You can feel heat crawling up your neck. “I’m not sure, exactly. I guess just the whole process in general.”

There is a beat where you can see Jungkook contemplating his words. He chews on his bottom lip, eyes unfocused for a moment before returning to you. “I could help if you want. Purely in a platonic, helpful way, no funny business, I swear.”

“Um, I don’t know if that…uh, I can try first, maybe?” You can’t seem to swallow past the thick knot in your throat at the thought of asking Jungkook to help assist you in…well, that.

“Sure, okay. Should we…get started?” Jungkook asks, his eyes flicking back to the bag he dropped on your couch. 

Your stomach flips at his words. “Yeah,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, feeling suddenly even more shy than usual.

“Great.” Jungkook claps his hands together before retrieving the bag from the couch. “I have everything we need. It's probably best if we begin this in the bathroom.”

Your apartment has one bathroom, which is joined to the bedroom but is still accessible through the hallway. Jungkook leads the way down the hall, flicking on the light inside the bathroom before stepping aside to let you in as well.

“Have you talked with Jiyoon?” you ask, seeking something to fill the silence as you watch him unpack everything from the bag and arrange it on the bathroom counter.

Jungkook shakes his head in a so-so manner. “I spoke with her for a few minutes earlier to let her know the plan for tonight. She couldn’t talk long and it was hard to hear with all the background noise, but she’s excited and said she can’t wait to be back at the end of the week.”

After washing his hands, Jungkook opens up the packet of a large sterile pad and spreads it out across the rest of the counter. From the research you’ve done, you recognize some of the things he begins to set out. There is a collection cup with an orange screw-on lid, a large syringe with a hose attaching it to a bulbous silicone mushroom-shaped plug, and several single-use packets of water-based lube. He also sets out a box of pregnancy tests, giving you a sheepish smile when you raise an eyebrow at it.

“I, uh, bought some, too,” you say, opening the medicine cabinet to show him the large box of pregnancy tests sitting between your ovulation test kit and your toothbrush.

Jungkook smiles. “I guess we’re on the same wavelength, huh?”

You have to stop yourself from leaning too far into the unusual, yet enticingly warm and appealing, feeling you get when he smiles like that. Clearing your throat, you gesture to the spread of tools. “What now?”

“I think we should discuss a game plan, make sure we know what to do and when to do it. There are some things I’ve read online, plus the directions in this pamphlet,” he says, slipping a folded paper from the box the inseminator came in.

Leaning in, you try to read the step-by-step process written on the paper over Jungkook’s shoulder. He shifts, steps closer to you, and angles the pamphlet to make it easier for you to see.

“Step one, collect the sample. Step two, transfer the sample into the syringe. Step three, insert the silicone plug into the…v-vagina,” you choke over the word, feeling heat licking up your neck, “as close to the cervix as possible. Step four, depress the plunger to administer the sample.”

“Seems pretty simple, right?”

You’re not sure you’d say simple. Sure, step by step, it looks pretty straightforward, but you seem to be responsible for the most challenging part, and that makes you even more nervous than before. “Yeah, simple.”

“Give me a few minutes, I need to—uh,” he points to the sample cup. “I’ll, you know.”

“Oh, right, right, of course. I’ll just—" you hook a thumb over your shoulder towards the door that leads to your bedroom ”—wait in there.”

It’s hard not to pace around your bedroom as you wait. You try to stick to the far side of your bedroom, not wanting to come too close to the bathroom and overhear anything you shouldn’t. The fact your best friend’s husband is in your bathroom masturbating is a weird enough revelation, albeit a necessary one for the ICI procedure; you’d still rather afford him some privacy.

After three minutes, you stop counting the seconds that pass, realizing that means you’re counting how long it takes for Jungkook to produce the sample. Which is something you’re vehemently trying to avoid thinking about so casually.

The bathroom door opening startles you, stopping you in your tracks. Jungkook clears his throat. “Ready?”

You move over to the bathroom. “I think so.”

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. You can do this and don’t forget, I’ll be here if you need any help, promise. Purely for help, for the process.” Jungkook swipes a finger in an x over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

“You’re right,” you say, trying to bolster your own confidence. “I can do this.”

You step past Jungkook and into the bathroom, but his hand on your arm pulls you up short. “Wait, wait. Would you feel more comfortable doing it in your room? It’s just that I’ve read it’s best if you could lay on your back with your hips elevated for fifteen to thirty minutes after.” He nods at your bed. “More comfortable than the bathroom floor.”

The idea of doing this on your bed crosses a line, taking this from a medical process to something far more intimate. “Maybe just a pillow,” you say, grabbing one of the decorative throw pillows you never seem to remember to put back on your bed but keep in a small pile on the floor instead.

“Okay.” Jungkook gives you a small smile, and it makes his eyes look soft and bright. The kind of smile you hope you can help him bestow onto a baby.

You leave the door unlocked, just in case you need his help. In your bathroom, there is no evidence of Jungkook's actions other than the very full sample cup sitting on the medical pad covering the counter.

The cup is warm to the touch, which is startling, though you know it shouldn’t be. Placing the pillow down on the floor, you shimmy your pants and panties down your legs and step out of them. There is a lingering scent in the bathroom; it’s a mix of Jungkook’s cologne but also of something clinical. You realize there are two empty packets of lube in your trashcan, and you can’t help the image that pieces itself together in your mind.

Swallowing hard against the threatening flood of further indecent thoughts, you move quickly to prepare the inseminator. It’s a systematic process you can do with little thought—safe—unscrewing the cap of the cup and filling the syringe. Once you’re in position on the floor, hips elevated on the pillow, empty packets of lube discarded and your body primed, you take the silicone plug in one hand and the syringe in the other.

The directions make it seem so easy. But as you try to fit the silicone plug inside, you can’t seem to get it to go where you want it. It keeps slipping sideways and tugging at the tube connecting it to the syringe. Your heart begins to race as you realize you might not be able to do this—not on your own, at least.

By the fourth try, fifteen minutes have passed, and you’re in full-blown panic mode. Your breath wheezes in and out as you crunch up, hands fumbling between your thighs, and sweat forming on your brow. “Oh god, oh god. I—uh, god dammit…Jungkook!” His name is out of your mouth in a strangled yell before you can stop it.

“What is it? Is everything okay? Are you okay?” The frantic words are muffled through the door. The door rattles on its hinges, and you can tell he’s pressing up against it from the sound of denim scuffing along it, probably pressing his ear against it in an effort to hear your response.

You’ve managed to get it inside, but you’re not sure if you can get it all the way in, pressed up against your cervix where it needs to be. It’s possible you used too much lube, though the idea that it’s possible to have too much lubricant seems ridiculous. But no matter what you do or how far you press your fingers in, you’re either at a wrong angle, or your fingers keep slipping on the plug too much. Asking Jungkook for help is the last thing you want to do, but you’re not sure what other options there are.

“C-can you come in here?” you ask in a hoarse voice. There is a moment of silence before the door eases open and Jungkook sticks his head inside. His eyes are closed so tight it makes you let out a snap of nervous laughter. “I think…I think I need help. I’m sorry, I just can’t—it’s not going in all the way, I don’t think,” you gush in explanation.

“Do you—is it okay if I?” Jungkook asks, leaving the obvious unsaid.

“Um, yes…please. I’ve tried, and I just…I don’t want to ruin this. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Jungkook shuffles into the bathroom, eyes still firmly closed and arms out in the air. “Um, where exactly are you so I don’t step on you by accident?”

Snagging the edge of the towel hanging on the rack, you pull it down and drape it over your knees to make yourself as decent as you can be in this situation. “Just open your eyes, it’s okay.”

Slowly, his eyes peek open and finally land on where you’re laid out on the floor, bent knees covered in a towel and your shirt askew from all your efforts.

“How can I help?” Jungkook kneels down beside you, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it to the side.

“I just…I don’t know if it’s all the way in. Can you—with your hand, I know that’s horrible and weird, but I don’t know what else to—”

“No, no, it’s not weird. I said I’d help. It’s clinical, right? We’re doing this just as a medical procedure. Like I said, no funny business, I swear. It’s for the baby. I’ll help you.”

“Okay.” You nod, squeezing your eyes shut because it’s hard to look him in the eye when he’s about to—the towel shifts, and cool air licking between your thighs has your mind going blank.

“Look at me,” Jungkook requests, to which you immediately comply. “I need you to promise me you’ll let me know if I hurt you or do something you don’t like. I’ll stop immediately, okay?” When you don’t immediately say anything, he adds, “I need you to tell me you understand.”

“I understand.”

Stretching across to the sink, Jungkook keeps his eyes on yours as he washes his hands and then shifts the towel more, folding it up and over your knees. “I’m going to place my hand on your thigh. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

His fingers are gentle against your skin, softer than you expected, and warm from the water. You can feel errant droplets of water streak down your thigh and roll over the bottom of your ass. You try to focus on that feeling instead of the way Jungkook’s hand trails down your thigh until his fingers graze your outer lips.

“I’m going to use two of my fingers to try and seat the inseminator. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” this time, it comes out as more a breath than a word.

You tense at the subtle press of his fingers and how they probe their way down until they find your entrance. There is easily enough lube down there to grease a bakery’s worth of cake pans, considering the half a dozen empty packets now in your trashcan, but you can’t help but take a deep, fortifying breath as he begins to press in.

“Still okay?” he asks, fingers moving achingly slow.

“I think so.”

Jungkook’s brow pinches. “I feel it…only about two inches in. I’m going to push it further now. Tell me if it hurts or is uncomfortable.”

Never in a million years did you think you’d ever find yourself in this position. Not only are you butterflied open on your bathroom floor, but your best friend’s husband is now middle-knuckle deep in your vagina, and you’re not sure how to feel about it. In fact, you’re trying to do everything you can to not think about how you stretch around the intrusion of his fingers, or that it feels far better than it should.

“Do you think you can get it all the way?” you ask, voice warbling with nerves.

Jungkook hums, his lips pushing out as if he is trying to concentrate. “I think I’m almost there. Does that feel okay, is it good?” 

Not once does he look away from you as he’s pushing deeper into your body. You think you want him to look away, to break that intimate contact, but you can’t even bring yourself to do that—even though you know you should. And the whispered exchange does little to help. Is it good? You’re going to burn in hell for the thoughts now flooding through.

“Oh!” You jolt in place, eyes going wide, all previous thoughts gathering into one singular point. Jungkook mirrors your surprise, his mouth popping open in silent shock.

“I’m so sorry!” he babbles. “I didn’t mean to do that. Oh fuck, god damn, shit…okay, sorry, let me just—” Jungkook is still gentle, yet swift in finishing seating the inseminator before quickly extracting his fingers from your body. “Please believe me when I say I am sorry, and I swear I wasn’t trying…I wasn’t trying to do that.”

Your body is still buzzing from the that he’s talking about—the graze of his thumb over your clit. It’s clear it was an accident by his reaction, but it does nothing to lessen the pulse that is now singing through your body.

“I-it’s okay. Really, it’s okay. It’s fine.” You’re not sure if your words are convincing enough, but Jungkook jerks his head in what you assume is a nod of acknowledgement.

“Um, it’s, uh, it’s in. Do you need me to do the syringe, too?”

“Just do it.” You exhale a shaky breath, finally tearing your eyes away from his. You’re confident he’s still watching you, even as he depresses the syringe and injects his cum into your body—as crass as that sounds in your head, that’s exactly what’s happening, and it’s the first time you think you’re realizing how truly fucked you are for this.

Nothing has happened between you and Jungkook, not in that way, but for some reason, guilt won’t leave you alone. You feel like you’ve just betrayed Jiyoon and feel even more like a ridiculous schoolgirl ruining her life over a crush on a boy. You’re intimately aware of the warmth and the subtle change in pressure as he finishes depressing the inseminator. It makes you want to squirm, but you chew your bottom lip and tap your toes instead.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks, his voice soft and gentle.

“I should be asking you that,” you sigh.

Jungkook balks. “What? Why would you say that? I’m fine…I’m the one that—” He nods toward where your body is now covered with the towel again. As soon as he was done plunging the depressor, he unfolded the towel and made you decent once more.

“You didn’t mean to,” you say, maybe more as a reminder to yourself than him.

“No, but that doesn’t make it okay.” Jungkook settles back on his heels, using one of the wet wipes that came in the kit to clean his hands. Suddenly, he laughs. “This is ridiculous, right? I mean, look at us, we just did something…beautiful, and we’re not allowing ourselves to enjoy it.”

You chuckle softly, fidgeting with one of the ends of the towel. “It is kind of ridiculous, huh? Sorry that I freaked out and you had to do…that.”

”I’m not. Sorry, that is. I’m glad you asked for my help. We’re in this together.” Jungkook gives you a smile, similar to the one he wore when he knocked on your door over an hour ago, and takes up the hand not pinching at the towel in his, squeezing it. “I don’t know that I can even begin to articulate with words just what this means to me. Thank you so much.”

“It means a lot to me, as well. Being able to do this for you and Jiyoon is not something you need to thank me for. I’d do anything for her. She’s my best friend. We’ve been through so much together over the last twenty years…I just want to see her happy. You, too, of course.”

Jungkook hums in the back of his throat, keeping his hand wrapped around yours as he leans back, using the side of the tub for support. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, spanning several minutes until Jungkook speaks again. “Have you ever thought about being a mom, you know, before this?”

It’s on the tip of your tongue to answer with what you think he wants to hear, that this has always been your wish, but instead, you choose to give him an honest answer. “Not really.”

”Why not? If you don’t mind me asking.”

If it were anyone else asking, you might mind, but…

You purse your lips before offering yet another truth. “I guess I just…I’m me, you know?”

”No, I don’t think I do know. What do you mean?”

“I’m a single woman in my thirties with no prospects on the horizon. My last boyfriend was over five years ago. I’m a modern-day spinster. Nothing is wrong with that, I love who I am…I just, no one has ever shown interest in me like that. Though it’s not necessary to have another person in the picture, it’s just that…I don’t even know, I’m rambling, sorry.”

Jungkook looks at you for a long moment, and it’s so hard to read his expression. All you want to do is plead with him to tell you what’s on his mind.

“You shouldn’t do that to yourself,” he finally says.

”Do what?” you ask, uncertain what he’s referring to.

“Sell yourself short like that. You are easily one of the hardest-working people I’ve ever met. You have a successful career and amazing tastes in art and food. Not to mention, you have the biggest heart of anyone I know. You’re…you’re amazing, and I know for a fact that people think so, too.” 

You puff out a breath, trying not to laugh at him. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Because I’m one of them. I wouldn’t choose just anyone to do this with. After all, the baby will be half of you, too. A win-win in my book.” The corner of his mouth tilts in a small smile.

You’re pretty certain you’ve never had something create such a viscerally emotional response in you. It takes everything you have to blink away the sudden onslaught of tears that threaten to overwhelm you.

When you finally think you can speak without melting into a blubbering mess, you whisper, “I think you’re pretty amazing, too.”

💔💔💔

Jungkook

It’s well after midnight by the time Jungkook makes it home. He’s positively buzzing and can’t even think about going to bed just yet. There is far too much going on in his head, so he decides to expend some energy in the tiny home gym he turned one of the spare rooms into.

The condo he and Jiyoon bought two years into their marriage is spacious, spanning half the second and third floors of the building. There is a three-car garage on the first floor, as well as an elevator that leads to the landing out front. Across the landing is where Taehyung lives with his roommate Jimin, another well-to-do model they met through Kim Exclusives.

Jiyoon stuck her nose up at the fact that Taehyung was buying the unit across from them when Jungkook first told her, but so far, it hasn’t caused too many problems over the years. It helps at times like this, when Jiyoon is traveling for work, to have a friend so close by. Usually, Jungkook would knock next door when he can’t get his head cleared, but for some reason, Jungkook doesn’t want to tell Taehyung about what happened at your place. He doesn’t want to tell anyone, for that matter, holding onto it as a private thing for as long as possible.

Losing himself in sets of squats and curls is far safer than describing in maddening detail the way your soft, lush—Jungkook slams his hand against the squat rack and forces his thoughts away from that line of thinking.

Just because you’re a gorgeous woman with a nice body doesn’t give him the right to think about you like that. Especially considering he’s married to your best friend, whom he loves more than anything. Besides, he’s better than that, knows the whole alpha male hindbrain is the stuff of fantasy. There is no excuse for him having such sordid and outlandish thoughts about you like that. It was simply doing what needed to be done to help—for the baby.

With that in his mind instead, he moves through the motions of his workout. By the time he’s dripping sweat and his muscles are trembling with fatigue, the sun is starting to peek through the windows, and he hasn’t thought about you in hours—well, not much, at least. And when he does, he says it's just because he's thinking of what might be passed down to your baby—er—his and Jiyoon's baby—he reminds himself.

It’s been an excruciating three weeks waiting and waiting to hear from you about something other than work. After Jiyoon returned home from her business trip, Jungkook told her about that night, including the accidental slip-up. At first, she was upset, accusing him of taking advantage of her best friend. It took hours of strained conversation to get her to understand that it was more of a clinical procedure than Jungkook fingering you.

When that accusation was first thrown out, Jungkook was at a loss for words and completely thrown off the tracks. Jiyoon apologized, saying she didn’t understand how he didn’t think she’d be upset about it but that she’d forgive him for it anyway. She then gathered Jungkook into her arms, and they cuddled in bed for the first time in what felt like forever.

Jungkook wasn’t sure if Jiyoon would confront you at work over it, but as the days continued on without a peep from you, he figured things were okay between the two of you. There were times when Jungkook wished something had gone down with you and Jiyoon because then, at least, he’d have an excuse to talk to you in a way that didn’t make him look like he only cared about you now that you were possibly pregnant or with something work-related.

He knows these things take time, and there is only so much he can do. So, he’s been pouring himself into work and filling his schedule with as many activities as possible to keep his mind off of waiting.

“Jungkook, let’s go.” Taehyung raps his knuckles on Jungkook’s shoulder, grabbing his attention. “Head out of the clouds, daddy-o, we’re needed in hair and makeup.”

Sighing, Jungkook hauls himself off the couch in the studio waiting room and follows Taehyung into the space where the makeup and hair artists are set up. He arrived at the studio early this morning and had spent the last hour spilling his guts to Taehyung, something he promised himself he wouldn’t do but couldn’t keep it contained any longer.

“Don’t call me that,” Jungkook grumbles.

Taehyung smirks. “What? Is that not what you’re hoping to be called? Don’t tell me you and Jiyoon are into daddy roleplay. That might make it a little weird to have your kid also call you daddy—ow!”

Rubbing the back of his head where Jungkook smacked him, Taehyung harrumphs before sidestepping the line of chairs and taking a seat in the one farthest from Jungkook.

“Fuck off, Taehyung. After everything I just told you, that’s all you have to say?”

Taehyung throws up his hands, and the hairdresser at his station begins to comb through his black tresses. “The way it seems to me, you’re the only one making a big deal about this. If you want to check on her, I’m sure she won’t think it’s only because she’s your possible surrogate and not because you’re friends after this. And sure, you stuck your fingers into your wife’s best friend’s vagina, but so what? It was what you needed to do. If I really needed you to touch my dick in order to complete an important procedure, I hope you’d do it with a smile on your face.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to protest but closes it when he realizes he can’t really argue against that. Taehyung is right. He did what he had to do. Hell, he knows that, he used those words himself when explaining it to Jiyoon. There’s just this feeling he can’t shake, he’s far too nervous and on edge right now. If only you’d reach out, put him out of his misery with an update.

“I hate it when you’re right. I’ll stop being such a—”

“Hi, guys.”

“Excuse me, ma’am, only staff and models are allowed back here.”

“Whoa, hey, wait. She’s our manager, and she can be here.” Jungkook is quick to spout, not caring if there is desperation evident in his voice. Once his eyes landed on you, it was all he could do not to jump up from the makeup chair, cross the room, and drop to his knees and beg for an update.

The directing assistant who stepped in your path gives you a once-over that makes Jungkook grind his teeth, but he just sighs and steps to the side. “Okay, but you’re both needed on set in fifteen,” he says, directing the last part toward Jungkook and Taehyung.

“It’s okay, I won’t be long. I just…” You hold up a thin manilla envelope and give it a shake. “Jiyoon is out of the office for the day, she said I should let you see first and that you could tell her later tonight at home. So, here I am. I thought we could look together.”

The makeup artist dabbing a sponge on Jungkook’s jaw lifts an eyebrow when he jerks forward in the chair, intent on scrambling across the room despite being in the middle of blending.

“Two minutes,” she says, stepping back from Jungkook and turning to the makeup collection on her table.

“Okay!” Jungkook springs from the chair and rushes over to you, having no regard for the way his hair flops out of place on his forehead. “Hi,” he says when he’s standing in front of you. “I didn’t realize you had an appointment today.”

“I didn’t,” you tell him. “I just wasn’t feeling all that well this morning, so…well, I just wanted to ensure everything was okay. They had to do a pregnancy test, it was routine.” You offer the folder to him. “Want to do the honors?”

Jungkook’s fingers are trembling as he takes the folder from you. It takes him three tries to get the flap open and to extract the slip of paper inside. You give him an encouraging smile as he looks to you for reassurance before letting his eyes sweep over the report.

“It’s…we’re…you’re…holy fuck. You’re pregnant. You’re pregnant! YOU’RE PREGNANT!” Jungkook shouts before breaking out into a bout of ecstatic laughter. “Fucking hell, oh my god, you’re pregnant! I’m going to be a father. Me. A father. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yes!”

You join in his laughter, the sound pleasant and musical, as he throws his arms around you and spins you in a circle. There are shining tears in your eyes when he sets you down again, happiness clear on your face. “I’m pregnant,” you whisper, the words reverent and full of awe.

There have never been more beautiful words. Jungkook can’t help but say them again. “We’re pregnant.”

It’s hard to say if what Jungkook is feeling right now is considered a healthy response to what his wife, Jiyoon, just told him. But, the erratic beat of his heart paired with the incessant ringing in his ears doesn’t necessarily feel bad, just like he’s having some sort of out-of-body experience.

“Say that again,” he requests, softly smacking his lips, trying to work moisture back into his mouth.

Jiyoon sighs, shuffling the papers on her lap. “I’m pregnant,” she repeats the same words you said just two weeks ago.

“You’re certain?” Jungkook wants to believe he heard her correctly but can’t help asking for clarity again.

“I am.” Jiyoon smiles at Jungkook, her eyes watery. “It’s right here, look.”

Jungkook hesitantly takes the top sheet of paper from Jiyoon, letting his eyes devour the words and numbers on it. It’s all there, everything he needs to see and know for the truth—hCG levels far, far above average, an inked red circle around it along with a doctor’s barely legible scrawl of ‘pregnant’ beside that.

“How far along? It’s been—” Jungkook pauses to try to do the math in his head; it’s been weeks since they were last intimate—the night they agreed to do ICI. 

“About eight weeks,” Jiyoon offers. “I suspected a few weeks ago, you know, when I was a little sick that weekend—the one when we found out about, well, I didn’t want to get my hopes up or disappoint you if it wasn’t true, especially after such good news…so I scheduled an appointment. I had to be sure, had to be certain.”

“You’re pregnant.” The words feel thick on Jungkook’s tongue, like he’s trying to talk through a mouthful of peanut butter; sweet, decadent peanut butter.

“I am,” she whispers, the confirmation turning into a squeal of laughter as Jungkook sweeps her into his arms and shouts his own happiness.

Peppering kisses all over Jiyoon’s face, Jungkook hops around, alternating between shouting how much he loves her and how he can’t believe his luck. “I’m going to be a father. Twice! What did I do to deserve this?! I love you so much. Fuck!”

“Calm down,” Jiyoon giggles. “Put me down before you make me hurl.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Jungkook pants, setting Jiyoon back down on her feet. “I’m just so excited!” He wiggles his hips and shimmies his shoulders. “We’ll need to order a second crib. Should we have the babies share a room at first? That seems the easier option, right? I bet there is a book on that somewhere, I need to go—”

“Hey, calm, right?” Jiyoon’s smile is warm, soft. “We have time. There is no need to rush. Can we just enjoy this for a little while longer?” she asks, grabbing one of his hands and placing it over her belly.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes.” Pressing his forehead to hers, Jungkook wraps his other arms around Jiyoon and sighs contentedly. “I love you so much, babe.”

“I love you, too, Jungkook.”

💔💔💔

Jiyoon seems nervous, pushing around the chopped salad on her plate as she chews her bottom lip. She hasn’t met your eyes the entire time you’ve been at lunch. You want to ask her what’s wrong, but you’ve been friends with her long enough to know that she’ll come to you with it when she wants, and pushing won’t do you any good.

“So,” she draws the word out, lips forming an exaggerated pucker.

“Yes?”

“How are you feeling?” You can tell that’s not what she wants to say or ask, but you indulge her anyway, hoping you’ll get to the actual matter of why she insisted on going to lunch with you today.

You shift in your seat, setting your fork down on your half-empty plate. “I feel good. I just have some nausea in the mornings sometimes, but it’s not too bad.”

Finally, Jiyoon’s eyes come up to meet yours. “I know what you mean,” she says, the words slow and enunciated—pointed. Her free hand flutters over her belly as if for emphasis.

“What?” The word is more breath than question. “You are?”

“I am,” Jiyoon confirms, tears shining in her eyes.

“Oh, my goodness! Jiyoon! What? But how? Oh my goodness! That’s wonderful!” You can’t contain your excitement for your friend, throwing yourself across the tabletop to hug her fiercely.

She’s laughing as you sit back down, clearly buzzing with her own excitement. “We just found out. It seems a miracle was in our cards after all. It’s still early, nine weeks or so now.” That would make it just two weeks, give or take, before you and Jungkook did the ICI.

“Wow,” you breathe, your own hand landing on your stomach. “They might as well be twins. It’ll be so cool—what?” Jiyoon’s frown stilts your excitement. “What is it?”

She casts her eyes away from yours again, pulling her full bottom lip between her teeth before letting it pop back out. “I don’t know. I just thought…it’s not too late if you wanted to—I just know it’s a lot on someone, your body, the pain and everything that comes after. And now that I’m pregnant, it’s just, we don’t expect you to continue…if you don’t want. We’d be completely understanding and fully supportive if you—”

“Termination? Is that…what you’re talking about? And Jungkook agrees?”

Her nose wrinkles. “I don’t like that word. I’m just saying that we will support your decision to do that if you’d like. It was never in the plans to have more than one child, and now it would be two newborns at the same time…that’s a lot, you know? Twice as many diapers, bottles, and sleepless nights. It would be hard to say goodbye, but we’d still love you and not think less of you for it.”

Your mouth feels too dry for you to form words. You know what she’s saying. Though there isn’t a single ounce of you that desires that, you also understand the hesitation Jiyoon is expressing. She’s right. There wasn’t a plan for two babies. So, what now? Do you volunteer to help? Do you seek out the advice of a lawyer to know where your parental rights might sit in the case they decide they don’t want the baby in the end? So many thoughts swirl through your mind that it makes you dizzy.

“Can I think about it?” you ask, feeling for the first time a wave of uncertainty.

Jiyoon gives you what you assume is supposed to be an assuring smile. “Of course. And if you decide not to, I’m sure we can come up with some sort of system. We’ll figure it out.”

She seems so sure that no matter your decision, it’ll all be okay. “Really?”

“Absolutely. I want—we want, these babies, even if we didn’t plan for two. I was just letting you know that there is that option if you want it.”

“I-I don’t think I do, but if that changes…I’ll let you know.”

“That’s all I ask! Now, tell me, what do you think it’ll be?” she asks, patting her flat stomach again. “A boy or a girl? I’m leaning more towards a boy…”

💔💔💔

Jungkook

Jungkook still can’t believe his life. Two babies—two extraordinary miracles, it’s surreal—perfect. His calendar has never been more full. There’s the regular schedule of photo shoots, meetings, and other client work but now those are penned in between the baby classes he’s signed up for and various doctor’s appointments.

One of which is scheduled this afternoon, just a few hours after another this morning. There is your ten-week and then Jiyoon’s three-month appointment. Things have been going great with the pregnancies being so close together, but it does sometimes make appointments and times overlap. Which is how Jungkook finds himself sprinting across the parking lot of Jiyoon’s doctor’s office. He’s late—really late. He didn’t mean to arrive so late. It’s just that your appointment ran a little longer than expected, and traffic wasn’t exactly on his side, either.

Just as Jungkook puts his hand on the handle to open the door to the doctor’s office, it swings outward, nearly smacking him in the face. Jiyoon glares at him, a peeved sigh escaping her.

“You missed it.”

“What? No. I still have—” he glances down at his watch. “The appointment should have lasted at least forty-five minutes, and it’s only been thirty.”

Jiyoon rolls her eyes. “They were able to get me in a few minutes early.” She pushes past him and starts towards her car. “Everything is fine, by the way. The baby is measuring small but is still healthy. Thanks for asking,” she snarks, holding up a length of printed film.

Jungkook grabs the strip from her hand, jogging to keep up with her angry strides. “Wow,” he whispers, looking down at the 2D images. “She’s beautiful, so tiny.”

“She? It could be a boy.”

“Is that what you hope it is?” Jungkook asks, skipping ahead of Jiyoon before turning and walking backwards in front of her. His eyes barely leave the black-and-white grainy images. He traces over the faintly-there contours of the face, the delicate nose and forehead.

Clicking the unlock button on her keyfob, Jiyoon sighs again. “I just want it to be healthy. I don’t care what gender it is.”

“You don’t care?” Jungkook purses his lips, finally looking up at his wife. She’s wearing a designer pantsuit, the deep navy complementing her porcelain complexion and making the red lip she has on pop beautifully. Pregnancy looks good on her. He opens his mouth to tell her so when she cuts him off.

“Don’t say it like that. Of course, I care. Good god, Jungkook, why do you have to make me feel like shit all the time? First you missed my appointment, because why? Because you were busy playing daddy to someone else. And now, here you are, accusing me of being a terrible mother before it’s even born. Fuck you. Fuck you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook is so confused. “What? I didn’t—playing daddy? What are you talking about? I already said I was sorry for missing the appointment, you know the times were really close. It was her ten-week appointment. They were measuring her nuchal translucency, you remember how important that is!”

“Whatever,” Jiyoon deadpans, pushing around Jungkook and climbing into her car. “I have a meeting tonight, don’t wait up for me.”

Before Jungkook can respond, the door slams shut, Jiyoon turns over the engine, and takes off. Maybe not everything is perfect, he laments to himself, mulling over his earlier thoughts. With a determined expression on his face, Jungkook makes his way to his own car and promises to do his best to make this right, vowing not to let something like this happen again.

Of course, it’s only some weeks later that Jungkook has to break this vow. It’s not his fault, it’s no ones. It seems that life just wants to test him, perhaps make sure he’s honing his time management skills for when the babies come.

Everything has been going great since his hiccup with missing Jiyoon’s twelve-week appointment. He’s been able to shuffle around his schedule and work with the both of you to ensure appointments don’t overlap or are too close together.

Jiyoon has become reliant on him, which is something Jungkook revels in. It’s like their marriage is finally back to the way it once was, full of nights cuddled in bed and romantic dinners—sans the wine. While you’ve been fiercely independent, yet charmingly sweet when it comes to Jungkook and Jiyoon and sharing the pregnancy experience with them.

There have been a few discussions about the fact that now there are going to be two babies instead of one. Jungkook has spent nearly all of his free time turning the guest bedroom into a nursery fit for two. His home gym has become a catch-all, most of the equipment being confined into a corner to make room for the furniture that came out of the guest room-now-nursery.

It’s been a lot, but it’s something Jungkook would never trade for anything in all the world. He’s positively jubilant over the prospect of being a father. It’s something he’s dreamed about for as long as he can remember. Now, it’s just a few months away, a permanent light in his life.

“J-jungkook?” your trembling voice sounds through his phone when he swipes to answer the call, tossing the paint roller into the bucket. Butter yellow coats the walls of the nursery and dots the hem of his old t-shirt.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

“I think so. I don’t know. I slipped on the stairs, I’m at the ER right now—”

“I’m on my way!”

“Jungkook, no. It’s okay. I know you have things going on today. I just thought I should tell you. Jiyoon was in a meeting, so Namjoon said he’d pass her a memo when she was done.”

He’s supposed to attend a First-Time Fathers class in an hour, and Jiyoon has her twenty-two-week anatomy scan this afternoon. The class can wait. If he’s lucky, he can go to the ER, check on you, and then make it to Jiyoon’s appointment.

“No, no, you’re not sitting in the ER by yourself. I’ll text Jiyoon and let her know that I’m leaving now to come check on you.”

“O-okay.”

The line disconnects, and Jungkook slaps the lid on the paint bucket and throws a plastic sheet over the paint tray. If it dries out, then it dries out. Paint can be replaced; your health is far more crucial right now.

Walking into the entryway, he thumbs open his messages and types out a quick text to Jiyoon before tossing his phone on the small bench by the door so he can pull on his shoes.

It’s a twenty-minute drive to the hospital, and it takes another ten minutes of searching to find you sitting in a waiting room with a large ice pack resting on your right foot.

“Hey, are you okay? Have you been seen yet? How long have you been here? What happened?”

You hold up a hand to ward off more of his word vomit, an embarrassed smile soft on your face. “Slow down, have a seat. I’m okay. They said I should be called back soon.”

Instead of sitting, Jungkook kneels on the floor in front of you. His fingers the ice pack, his face falling even further. “What happened?”

“I slipped in the stairwell at work, missed the last step and came down hard on the side of my foot.”

“Can I?” he asks, fingers moving to the corner of the ice pack.

You nod. “Yeah.”

Lifting it gently, Jungkook takes in the sight of your foot. The black ballet flats you’re wearing give him a clear view of the swelling that’s already beginning along the top and side of your foot.

“Do you want me to find a wheelchair?”

Before you can answer Jungkook a nurse comes through one of the doors, pushing a wheelchair. She wheels it over to you and says, “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

Jungkook slips his arm under yours as you stand before slowly helping you lower into the wheelchair. “Would you like to push her back?” the nurse asks Jungkook.

“I can come?” he wonders, hopeful.

“Of course. Unless you’d rather wait out here, and I can call for you when your wife is done.”

“Oh, she’s not—”

“I’d like for you to come if that’s okay? I don’t really want to be alone,” you interject before Jungkook can correct the nurse. She gives Jungkook a polite nod and gestures towards the door she came through.

“Please come right this way. We’ll need to get a quick weight and a urine sample before I can get you into your room, where the doctor will see you shortly.”

Jungkook aids you the best he can, helping you to and from the wheelchair as he can. He almost asks if you want him to come into the restroom with you, but you give him a quick shake of your head before closing the door on him.

What feels like an eternity later, you’re finally settled on a bed with Jungkook sitting in the chair beside it.

“Thank you for being here,” you say quietly, drawing Jungkook’s attention. “I know I said I wanted you to come back with me, and it’s not that I want you to leave, but please don’t feel obligated to stay. I know you have a lot of other things going on.”

Shifting his chair closer, Jungkook reaches for one of your hands. “Nonsense. I’m glad you called. I feel bad that I haven’t been to as many doctor’s appointments with you. I feel like it’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve even seen you. I wish our schedules worked out a little better. Perhaps, as my manager, there’s something you can do about that?” he asks, giving you a jesting wink.

“I was trying to give you more time to go to Jiyoon’s appointments!” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand.

“I know, but in case you forgot, you’re also carrying my child. Don’t get me wrong, though, the texts are great, and I really appreciate the weekly baby bump pictures, but it’d be nice to actually see you. Though, maybe next time, let’s make it not where you’re laid up in a hospital bed, not yet, at least,” he adds on with a low laugh.

This is the first time Jungkook has seen your bump in person. The soft swell under your shirt calls to him, and he wonders if it would be okay to touch it. As if you’re reading his mind, you take the hand that’s wrapped around yours and press it gently over your stomach.

“Kinda weird, huh?”

“No. No, not weird at all,” Jungkook says, being completely raw and honest with you. Jiyoon is touchy about her belly, pun wholly not intended, seeing as she doesn’t let him touch her bump nearly as much as he’d like to. She’s only recently started to show, and it’s hitting her hard, with which Jungkook tries to empathize. He can’t imagine being pregnant and how much a body changes; he’d probably feel things like that, too.

He spends a moment absorbing the feel, trying to imagine the little life growing just a few inches below his hand. Life he helped create. He’s so in awe he could cry…if it wasn’t for the door opening and breaking the momentary spell over him.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Lee. I’ll be your attending today. I hear you slipped down the stairs today and are worried your foot might be broken?” The cheery, middle-aged woman chatters away, washing her hands and drying them off before offering one to you and then to Jungkook.

“Yeah. I missed the last step and landed on the side of my foot pretty hard.” You shake your head with a rueful smile. “I should have just waited for the elevator.”

“Oh, ouch. Let’s take a look,” Dr. Lee coos. “May I?” She gestures to the blanket covering your feet. Jungkook helped you remove your shoes once you were in bed and tossed the blanket over your feet so they wouldn’t get cold.

“Of course.”

Dr. Lee pulls back the blanket and gently probes at your foot, turning it slowly side to side to get a better look. “Does this hurt?” she asks as she rotates your ankle.

“A little, not as much as putting pressure on it, though.”

The doctor nods. “I think it might be best if we do an x-ray just to be sure it’s not broken.”

“Won’t that be harmful to the baby?” Jungkook asks.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure to protect your little one.” Jungkook nods his understanding. “Is it your first? You look a little green around the gills, first-time-father jitters.”

Jungkook isn’t entirely sure how to answer that. Because, technically…no? Considering Jiyoon is approximately two weeks further along than you are. Would that make her baby his first? A laugh, barely restrained, simmers deep in Jungkook’s chest.

“Something like that,” he finally says, earning another warm smile from the doctor.

“Alright, let’s get started so I can get you two out of here as soon as possible.”

The word ‘soon’ should be a relative term when it comes to hospitals—or a word that hospital staff is barred from using. Jungkook doesn’t mind spending the hours waiting with you. In fact, you’re pretty pleasant company. That’s not to say Jiyoon isn’t when Jungkook attends appointments with her; there’s just a different level of expectation, he thinks. He hopes this baby will have your patience and grace like that.

Jiyoon wants a quiet observer sitting in the corner, whereas you’re welcoming to his insights and curiosities. You haven’t hushed him a single time when he’s voiced a question of any of the medical staff. In fact, it almost seems like you welcome it, comfortable in letting him show his concern for you.

Thankfully, the x-ray showed no break or fracture. You’ve been given a temporary boot to wear for the next week and strict instructions not to overdo it. “Got it,” you say once the nurse has finished explaining everything to you.

“Now, before we discharge you, we would like to have a sonographer brought in to check on the baby. According to your charts and file, you’re at the twenty-week mark now.”

Jungkook stands up, panic worming its way in. “Should we be worried? Is everything okay?”

The nurse gives him a motherly smile. “That’s what we would like to check.” She turns her attention to you. “You didn’t fall on your belly, but with any trauma to the body, it never hurts just to be sure.”

Of course. That makes sense to Jungkook, but he looks to you for confirmation. “Yeah? You want to do that?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

Jungkook has only attended two live ultrasounds in all the doctor’s appointments he has been to. He has many printed ultrasound images that are now stuck to the refrigerator at home, one side for Jiyoon and the other for you. But he’s only managed to attend one for Jiyoon and one for you, so this will be a wonderful treat.

“Okay, they’ll be here in just a moment.”

A few moments pass after the nurse leaves the room, and Jungkook allows himself to truly assess his internal feelings. He’s thankful that you’re okay and will feel even more at ease once the ultrasound confirms the baby is alright, too. It’s wild for Jungkook to think that just a few months ago, his life felt like it was on the verge of falling apart. There was a steadily growing rift between him and Jiyoon, and you were just Jiyoon’s best friend.

Now, however, he feels closer than ever to his wife, and you’ve managed to carve out your own little pocket in his heart, too. It’s alarming, yet comforting, to realize that there is something more between you and him—a deepening connection that’s still delicate but growing more solid with each passing day.

“You feeling okay?” Your voice breaks through Jungkook’s reverie.

“Hm? Me? I’m great,” he assures, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. You’ve barely let his hand go the entire time, to which Jungkook won’t complain. “Does it hurt much?” Jungkook nods toward the end of the bed, where your feet are back under the blanket.

You shrug. “It’s not so bad while laying here.”

“Hi!” a bubbly voice calls from the door a second before a young blond woman wheels an imaging cart into the room. “Are we ready to get a look at your little one before you guys go home?”

“Yep.” You give Jungkook’s hand a light squeeze. “Excited?” you ask in a soft voice meant only for him.

“Very,” he tells you, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“Now, this won’t be nearly as good as if we were in radiology in an exam room, but all we really want is to get a look to make sure everything is okay. Besides, who doesn’t want to take a peek when you get the chance, right?”

The tech, with Jungkook’s assistance, helps you adjust on the bed until you’re in a comfortable position for the ultrasound. Jungkook feels frozen as you tug your blouse up and over your belly, giving him his first real glimpse of the swell in all its glory. It’s one thing to see it through your shirt, another thing entirely to see it like this.

“Cold,” you chuckle as the tech squeezes a glob of contact gel onto your lower belly.

“Sorry about that, these carts unfortunately don’t have the warmers on them. Ah, here we are,” she sing-songs when she smoothes the wand over the gel. “Look at that.”

Jungkook tears his eyes from your face, focusing his gaze on the imaging machine's display screen. His breath stutters in his lungs, and a wave of pure, unrestrained joy washes over him.

“They’re perfect,” he says, voice thick with emotion. Jungkook watches as an arm moves across the screen, followed by a little kicking foot.

“Seeing them never ceases to take my breath away.” You take the words right out of Jungkook’s mouth.

The tech hums, giving you a soft smile as she moves the wand around to different angles. “No gender yet?” she asks. “I’ll try to be careful here, don’t want to have any spoilers…unless you would like to know?”

It’s hard not to be curious. “Is it not too early to tell?” Jungkook asks.

Turning the screen slightly away from you and Jungkook, the tech says, “Um, nope. Not too early. Everything looks good, though. So, if you’d rather wait, we can get cleaned up and be done here.”

“What do you say?” Jungkook looks at you with a raised brow.

Your teeth leave a dent in your bottom lip as you worry it for a moment. Another thing he thinks would be cute to see his mini-me do. “I kind of want to, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he admits, loving the fact that you do.

“Okay, wonderful. In that case,” the tech says before moving the screen back and adjusting the wand on your belly. “Take a look here.”

When Jungkook arrives home, the sun has long since gone down, but he’s so high on cloud nine that he can’t bring himself to care. The large smile on his face hasn’t slipped in the slightest.

Jungkook is certain nothing can bring him down. At least, that is, until he walks through the front door of his condo and straight into hell. Jiyoon is sitting at their dining table, her expression completely devoid of emotion.

“Hey, babe. What’s going on?” Jungkook hesitantly asks, eyes sweeping the open layout and taking note that the only light on is the recessed one directly over Jiyoon. His smile slowly fades, replaced with a crease between his brows.

“What’s going on?” she asks in a cold voice.

“Is everything okay?”

Jiyoon sniffs, her eyes narrowing, the first sign of emotion he’s seen since he walked in. “No. Everything is not okay.”

“O…kay,” Jungkook draws the word out, letting his mind flip through its internal catalog, trying to find pieces of the puzzle to put together.

“Where have you been?”

“There was an accident. Did you get the note from—”

“You’ve not answered any of my calls or texts.”

“I sent you a text before I left. I think I misplaced my phone, I can’t seem to find—”

“You missed my appointment!” she sneers, cutting him off once more. “And you did not text me. I haven’t heard from you since this morning.”

Realization hits, and the warmth drains from Jungkook’s face. He was so focused on everything with you, the panic and then the joy, that he completely spaced on everything else he should have done today. But also…

“I swear I texted you to let you know I was going to the hospital. I was going to make sure everything was okay.” As soon as your name falls from his lips Jiyoon shoves back from the table and rounds it, getting in his face. “She slipped at work and thought she might have broken her foot. Namjoon was supposed to give you a note about it since you were in a meeting. She called me. I was worried. I didn’t mean to miss your appointment. Were they able to determine the gender?”

Jiyoon jabs a finger in the center of his chest. “Not. Good. Enough. I’m your wife, not her! You’re supposed to be with me! Instead, you spend all your fucking time with your nose up her ass when you barely even know her!” Jungkook staggers back as her poke turns into a fully-palmed shove. “You’re un-fucking-believable! What a goddamn joke.”

“Jiyoon, that’s not fair. Something could have been wrong with the baby. It was an emergency,” Jungkook says, trying to make Jiyoon see reason.

It doesn’t work.

“Fuck you! Why do you care so fucking much about that stupid baby?! All you do is fawn over the photos and re-read her text updates! This,” she gestures wildly at her stomach, “is the baby you should care about! Yet you can’t even show up when it counts.”

“You can’t be serious. This is ridiculous.” Jungkook keeps his tone level, refusing to be baited into a knock-down-drag-out with her.

“No!” Jiyoon screams, making Jungkook flinch. “You are ridiculous.” Suddenly a menacing smile cuts across her face. “I bet you slept with her. Didn’t you? That’s it, you’re feeling possessive because you fucked my best friend, and that’s how she got knocked up, isn’t it?”

Jiyoon’s words spark a ringing in Jungkook’s ears. “What?” he whispers, the word barely forming.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Jungkook. I know you too well for that. Let’s not forget your little slip-up—” she throws up air quotes as she says that “—the night you supposedly did ICI.”

“I told you it was an accident. I didn’t mean to do it!”

Sarcasm is a heavy, bitter layer in Jiyoon’s reply, “You just so happened to touch her clit? Just a little oopsie, so innocent. You’re too nice to outright lie to me, so, of course, you come up with some half-truth, expecting me to believe that you didn’t want it, that you weren’t secretly gnawing at the opportunity to try and seduce my best friend!”

“That is not what happened at all!”

“So I’m supposed to believe my pathetically inexperienced best friend is the one that seduced you, then?”

“What? That’s not what I said at all. No one seduced anyone. You’re being fucking crazy right now. You know I’d never do that to y—”

The crack of Jiyoon’s palm against his jaw stuns him into silence. “Don’t you dare call me crazy!” she screams. “You’d never do that to me? Yeah, right. You’re a man, and that’s what men do! Heaven forbid a woman works hard and spends time away from the home, trying to provide for her family. Is that it? I’m gone too much for your sad little dick, so you have to chase after the first desperate pussy that comes your way?”

Jungkook presses his fingers over the searing heat licking up his jaw where her hand struck him. “Jiyoon, no, it’s not like that at all,” he says, losing his momentum because he’s not sure what he can say at this point to make her see reason. “I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“Fucking my best friend because she’s convenient and out of spite for me being gone so much? No, that sounds exactly like something you would do. Well, looks like it’s your lucky day because two can play that game, asshole. Enjoy your fucking prize!”

Jungkook jerks back, as if Jiyoon just slapped him again. “What does that mean?”

She laughs, the sound deep and throaty. “This baby—” she seethes, rubbing over the small swell of her belly, voice rising with every word “—it’s not yours, you pathetic bastard!”

Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon) ◅ Back to story masterlist  

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-02-13 ColorMePurplex2

Hiraeth (M)

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Soulmate/College Au, Light Angst, Fluff, Soft Smut

Words: 18K

Description: We are always yearning for someone, even if that person may not exist in this tangible realm. 

A/N: To whomever stumbles upon this piece of my heart, I sincerely hope you enjoy your stay :)

Warnings: Mildly Explicit Sexual Content

Soulmates.

Apparently everyone had one.

And everyone would have the name of their destined other half inscribed on the tender skin of their inner wrist when they turned 18.

Everyone…minus you.

It had remained the sole most exciting thing about turning 18 ever since you learned about the exhilarating phenomenon, something you had been looking forward to more than the pile of presents you knew you would be receiving on said day, more than the “surprise party” you knew your friends would be throwing you, and more than being the center of attention for a solid few hours like all the other birthdays you’ve experienced in your life so far.

It was supposed to be one of the few things in life that are guaranteed, analogous to a type of promise which does not revolve around uncertainty or a surefire plan that is carried out without fail, an occurrence not influenced by outside forces and has been written in the stars since the beginning of time. Its assurance is assumed, which is also why its ultimate letdown was able to spur so much damage.

Because on your 18th birthday, in place of the sparkling letters of the name you could practically feel on your tongue, painted in the vibrant colors of your most beautiful dreams, you are instead left with a black horizontal line-  dull, ominous, and utterly frightening.

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