Dextrocardia | 01

fontana di trevi | 02

you seek out a vampire to help you with something.

pairing: vampire!jk x sadgirl, blood donor!reader

genre: vampire au, angst, fluff (really a sadgirl fic lol)

word count: 9k

warnings: same as last time basically: blood, needles, suicidal thoughts and intentions

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 2/2

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© between takes is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

“Thanks,” you smile politely as you close the car door, hearing the Uber drive off behind you. The walk up to the house is no different than last time, yet it definitely feels different. Both because of what happened almost a week ago, but also since you’re hoping this will be the last time.

What certainly is different is the surprised look on the vampire’s face as he opens the door to see you standing there with your hands in the pockets of your winter coat.

He himself is wearing a black hoodie, and once again, black shorts. His hair looks a little messier than how you’re used to seeing it. Almost like he’s been sleeping. Vampires don’t sleep, though, do they?

“I… didn’t think you’d show,” he admits honestly, nonetheless opening the door wider for you, and as you enter, you can’t help but think that he looks… almost cuddly.

Of course, he still gives off the usual intimidating aura, and he should probably be even scarier to you considering what happened last time you met him, but… you don’t know. Perhaps you’re just so deprived of human touch that a bloodthirsty vampire’s cold embrace seems inviting.

This time, he waits in the hallway while you step out of your shoes and remove your coat. 

“Yeah, I still want this. I just… wasn’t prepared,” you explain rather vaguely, knowing that he understands exactly what you’re getting at anyway. You want to die but on your terms.

“It wasn’t my intention. To do what I did.”

You meet his eyes. It’s not an outright apology, but it feels eerily close to one.

“You were there to… feed, weren’t you?”

He nods. “Didn’t get the chance to on Thursday or Friday.”

It’s your turn to nod in understanding. For a short moment, you stand there, looking at each other. 

Until you break the silence. “So, can we start?”

“Sure,” he agrees, turning around to head toward the kitchen.

Like the first time you showed up to his house when he didn’t think you were going to, he has to bring the supplies from wherever he keeps them. You take your spot at the table, slip off your cardigan, and wait.

The vampire returns with his hands full, placing the stuff down on the table before he pulls out another chair and positions it the same way as always. But his focus lies on your skin.

“These are new bruises?” he asks, carefully grasping your hand and very gently lifting it to better inspect the yellowing marks covering your skin. “You always bruise like this after?”

You follow his gaze. There are currently three bruises on your right arm, none the same as the night he almost killed you. Two are yellow and from when you bumped into a dresser at home a few days ago. The third is purple but smaller and its origin a mystery. If he wanted to see bruises, he should’ve seen the ones on your legs after you fell when he attacked you.

“Not the first time, but yeah. Usually just from the needle site, but lately, it’s all over. I guess I’m a little deficient in something,” you joke quietly, but the vampire doesn't laugh. 

“Why does it interest you so much? Do you have some kind of medical degree?” you ask, thinking back to when he first asked you why you didn’t wonder about his apparent knowledge.

“Not officially, but being dependent on humans like we are to some extent, you tend to pick up on stuff, and having been around as long as I have, it’s even more unavoidable. But I’ve never seen bruising this severe from blood loss.”

Fair enough. Your body should definitely try to keep the little blood remaining inside your veins, where it belongs. 

He starts prepping your arm, but instead of looking away, you close your eyes. Are you imagining things or has he been… softer lately? Making sure you got home safely instead of leaving you to your fate, almost worrying about your bruises, and being gentler in the way he attaches the needle? Then again, he’s only making sure you can give him as much blood as possible, and he also would’ve probably killed you if he’d gotten ahold of you last week.

“I take it you’ve killed before?” 

There’s a few seconds of silence, but then he answers, and there’s nothing hidden in his words or voice that reveals something more.

“I have.”

“How do you…,” you start, unsure of how to phrase your question. “I mean, what do you do… after?”

“Are you asking…?”

“How do you… dispose of them? And… I guess, how will you dispose of… me?”

It’s not really a sensitive question for you, so you’re not sure for whose sake you’re so careful. You doubt the vampire really cares.

You hear him exhale. “I guess it depends on the circumstances. I haven’t planned anything.”

You wince when he sticks you, more painful this time for some reason. The ball is placed in your hand like always, and you start to squeeze it.

Your curiosity isn’t that dire, so you’re not disappointed by his answer. Maybe he’s not even being honest, and it’s for your sake? Which brings you back to why he’s being extra gentle. The only other explanation you can think of is that he feels sorry for you. Maybe he just truly wants to spare you unnecessary pain and worry in the last moments of your pathetic life? Because this is it. With how shitty you’ve been feeling these last couple of weeks and especially since last time, you know it won’t be long. Today’s the day.

One bag. He can take one bag and after that he’ll have to end it. That way, you don’t have to bleed out, and he’ll get as much blood as possible. If he takes your advice about how to drain the rest, well, that’s up to him.

You’re startled by the sound of knocking, opening your eyes to see the vampire rise from his chair, seemingly sharing your surprise. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Nodding, you close your eyes again, getting as comfortable as you can in the chair while wondering who’s at the door. A vampire friend? A vampire partner? Surely, he doesn’t hang out with humans on the regular? You always got the impression, both from him and vampires in pop culture, that they don’t really care for humans. In fact, a dirty human only pesters a vampire’s environment unless they’re actively dying.

Your heart hurts. It’s beating heavily inside your chest, a feeling you’ve grown somewhat used to over the weeks, but it feels undeniably worse. Like every beat is a painful and exhausting accomplishment. Your breaths grow heavier too. 

Surely, it’s been more than a minute. Is he on his way back? If he were a human, chatting with another human at the front door, maybe you would’ve heard them, but you can’t discern anything. 

It feels a little like your head’s in the clouds, and you’re not sure if your eyes are still closed or if they’re open and you just can’t see anything. You have a feeling that not only can’t you hear the vampire, you can’t hear anything anymore.

Realizing that this is it, you try to call for him quietly to tell him so, but although you’re pretty certain you’re dying, for some reason, you don’t want to interrupt whatever he’s doing with his visitor.

“Fine, alright, I’ll talk to him, but please, this is not a good time.”

“But he’s being an ass, and you were the last person he spoke to before he left for fucking Iceland.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes at his friend, Yuqi. With how much she and Taehyung love each other, there’s a surprising amount of drama. 

“I don’t wanna get involved. I’ll call him later.”

“Fine, get back to me after. If he doesn’t answer, I’m taking the first flight.”

“Vampire?”

Yuqi, who was just about to turn around to leave, stops in her tracks.

“What… was that?” she asks, standing still before discreetly scenting the air. “Is that… blood?”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen. He’s used to smelling blood whenever you’re there to leave it, but not this much. Quickly, and without regard to Yuqi, he turns to rush back into his kitchen, eyes going even wider at the vision in front of him.

“Vampire?” you call out quietly again from the chair, eyes closed and unknowing of his return. You seem out of it, bordering on unconscious, and it’s not without reason. Jeongguk curses himself for not double checking the blood bag when he knows that brand is prone to ripping because the bag isn’t full; it’s broken, and your blood is dripping into a big puddle of red on the floor.

You think… you’re being… carried? By someone firm and… warm. You like that.

“I’m not warm," a low voice comments. "At least I’m not supposed to be.”

“I’m dying… right?” you mumble, feeling how the vampire puts you down on something soft.

“Probably, yeah.”

He does something to your arms, and you can’t figure out what, but you realize it has something to do with collecting the remaining blood when you’re gone.

There’s another voice.

Next time you open your eyes, you feel… different. And upset. You’re not as dizzy as you’ve become accustomed to, and the room doesn’t spin when you sit up on the bed. Your body hurts, but it feels more like you’re simply tired and beat than extremely weak. Most importantly, you feel, which means you’re not dead.

As if he could sense your awakening—or just possesses superhuman hearing—a door opens to reveal the vampire. He's wearing other clothes, grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt, and his face doesn't give you anything.

“What happened?” you question, looking around the room that’s clearly a bedroom. “And where am I?”

“You passed out. There was a hole in the bag, so the blood was just leaking onto the floor. I had my friend steal some from the hospital, and I gave you a transfusion. Yuqi also brought some clothes and stuff for you, so you’re staying here at least until tomorrow. Then you’re free to leave whenever you want.”

“I… don’t understand. Why would you—why not just let me go then?”

“I changed my mind.”

You look at him, bewildered and trying to find the words. “What do you mean you changed your mind? We had an agreement?”

“I know, but I changed my mind. I’m not doing it. If the blood matters to you, the bags are in the freezer.”

“Why–what would I do with blood?” you question in frustration. Is he offering it back in case you want to drink it? Try to put it back inside your veins? Apparently, you’ve already had transfusions, so you have exactly zero use for frozen bags of blood. “Why can’t you just get on with it? Why not let me die?”

“I do not. Want. To,” he hisses.

You stare at him in silence, feeling confused and betrayed. He looks away but doesn't seem affected. No shame, no regret, no anything but a moment of frustration to breach otherwise calm determination.

“Here’s the stuff,” he gestures toward a duffel bag by the foot of the bed. “You have a bathroom right outside, and I’m gonna order some food for you. You should take it easy; I wasn’t able to give you as much blood as you really need, and unfortunately, what I’ve previously collected isn’t fit to give back. Since it’s been frozen and stored improperly for that kind of purpose, there would be a risk of clotting.”

You look at him from where you’re sitting on his bed, and he looks back at you. The irritation you feel grows beyond what you’re capable of conveying, and so it turns into defeat. It makes you angry, how he managed to back out of giving you what you wanted at the very last second. You spent months upholding your end of the deal, and when it finally came time for him to do the same, he didn’t. 

“Don’t bother,” you lie down slowly, your back facing him where he stands at the door. Silently, you curse your body for feeling so tired; ideally, you’d stomp out of there, slamming the door behind you. “I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

Your own clothes are still wearable. The few stains of blood are relatively small and dried, and the vampire already placed you on his bed, so you don’t feel like you’ll do any more damage by sleeping in them. The house is quiet, but you don’t think he’s left it, which begs the question of where he is. And also if he sleeps and if he does, then… where? He never gave you a tour or anything, so you have no idea what the rest of his house looks like. Whatever; you don’t care, anyway.

His sheets smell clean, though, and it doesn’t take you long to pass out, truly exhausted.

When you wake up, you can’t find your phone, and without any other time measuring device, you don’t know what time it is. It appears like the sun rose not too long ago so that narrows your guess a little bit at least.

Sitting up slowly, you take a deep breath. You feel… okay. A bit sore almost, but more energetic than you have in a while. Unfortunately, it’s not necessarily a good thing in your book.

Sighing, you put your feet to the hardwood floor. They carry you with only a little dizziness, and you set your sight on the bedroom door. It opens smoothly, and you peer out, looking for the bathroom the vampire mentioned. There’s a door immediately to your left which you guess must be it, and so you head toward it. 

After successfully finding the bathroom and using it, you decide to continue the search for your phone. Since you thought last night would be your last and therefore arrived by Uber rather than driving, it means that without your phone, you have no way home.

You make your way down some stairs, recognizing the hallway as the one the vampire has led you through what feels like countless times. Last time you remember having your phone was in the kitchen, so that’s where you steer your steps.

As luck would have it, the kitchen is also where the vampire happens to be. Upon your entrance, your eyes immediately fall on the tall man where he stands, leaning back against the counter. Although he surely heard you approaching a long time ago, he only turns his head slowly toward you when you’re well into the room. He’s hard to read; doesn’t offer much.

“Do you know where my phone is?”

The vampire twists his body to look at the counter behind him, sliding something toward you. You take a step closer, inspecting the device when it’s in your hands. Three percent.

“Do you have a charger I can borrow?”

“Yeah,” he answers with a nod and pushes off the counter, leaving the kitchen. You wait, quietly wondering what exactly goes on inside his head. He seems unfazed by the whole ordeal, which doesn’t necessarily surprise you. But what you still don’t quite understand is why he claimed to have changed his mind. Could it be that he just didn’t want to deal with your body? 

The vampire returns with a white charger in his hand, his skin cold against yours when you accept it from him. Finding a fitting outlet near the table, you plug the charger in and sit down, gazing out through the window while you wait for the phone to charge enough for the trip home. The vampire has gone back to leaning wordlessly against the counter, and you ignore him.

Opening your phone, you find that the only unread notification you have is a spam email. Why are you surprised? With a small sigh, you lock the device again, hoping it’ll charge faster if you don’t use it. Forty percent should be enough.

It’s snowing outside, and you watch the big snowflakes fall slowly and silently to the already white ground. Waiting like this gives you time to go over all the things you’ve done wrong in your life.

Next time you unlock your phone, the battery has reached thirty-seven percent. You open the Uber app to see that a car can arrive in ten minutes. You confirm it, noting the time as eleven twenty-three. You’ll wait five more minutes before you start getting ready, which honestly is just putting your shoes and coat on. 

The seconds pass slowly one after the other. You wonder briefly how long it took the vampire to clean because, although you didn’t notice the blood dripping to the floor while it was happening, you understood that there was a lot of it. Must suck for him to have it wasted like that. The question is also why he would waste even more blood by giving you a transfusion? If he went through the pain of acquiring bagged blood, why not just drink that?

At eleven twenty-nine, your phone’s battery is at fifty-two percent. You unplug the charger from the wall, and as you stand, you place it on the table with a quiet ‘thanks.’

“Going home?” the vampire wonders, black eyes watching you. He looks casual, but there’s that hint of softness shining through again. 

You pass him on your way to the front door. “Yeah.”

“Reconsider,” he encourages, and you know he’s not talking about your journey home. 

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Yes,” he follows. “Whatever’s troubling you doesn’t matter. There’s so much for you to see and do, so many places to visit and people to meet. Your life is so incredibly short, and you won’t have time to see even a fraction of the world as is.”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” you say, bending down to put your boots on.

“Have you even been outside of this town?”

Why is he trying to control you? He doesn’t know you; he doesn’t care. It’s not like you’ll magically be fine after his ‘cheer up, pal,’ and ending your life is not a decision you have taken hastily or easily.

“No.”

“Don’t you want to see what’s out there?”

“Of course. But it’s not…” you straighten up to look at him, frustration dripping from your words. “Don’t you see that I’m all alone? I don’t have anybody, no one to experience things with, and much less the money to just up and leave. Sure, maybe I could get a loan and travel through Italy for two weeks, but then what? I’ll be miserable and in debt.”

The vampire tilts his head, looking at you with his black eyes but not saying anything. He just doesn't understand. You put your other foot into your boot and reach for your coat before he can try to persuade you again for whatever reason.

“Whatever,” you sigh, “I’ll be going.”

He doesn’t stop you from opening the door, and he doesn’t follow you when you leave, one boot undone and with your coat held to your chest. Irritation turns to sadness and defeat as you wait for the Uber to arrive, taking the opportunity to actually put your coat on and tie your laces properly. Snow falls around you, and when you're done, you stand there, waiting pathetically by the side of the road in the cold. You’re back at square one.

Despite having slept for countless hours at the vampire’s house, you head straight for your bed the moment you return home. For another few hours, you sleep, and then you spend a few more lying there in the dark, thinking. 

It’s seven p.m. on a Saturday. You’ve wasted a lot of time, months even, waiting for the vampire to get what he wanted and follow through on his part. But that’s over now, so what are you waiting for right now? 

Two and a half hours later, you put your boots back on and throw a lighter jacket over your shoulders, one that allows easier access to your neck.

Still not feeling your best, it takes you fifteen minutes to walk what the vampire did in six, carrying you on his back. You don’t understand him. He acted like he didn’t want you to die, but if he cared about you at all, he would’ve backed out earlier and not waited until his actions brought you within an inch of your life for what, the third time? Was he hoping you’d stay alive so that you’d hopefully continue donating your blood, even if less frequently? 

Although nearing his feeding grounds, you’re hoping not to run into him. He did state that he changed his feeding days to Thursdays, and last week, when you did run into him, it seemed like a coincidence. Besides, this place is your best bet tonight; even the vampire admitted that there were others there last time. Surely, they’re around here somewhere tonight as well. 

Since you assume vampires don’t want unnecessary attention, you stake out near the same club as last week, but this time, you hide in the shadows around a corner. Then, you wait for a victim.

Thirty minutes to midnight, a woman stumbles out through the door, a bouncer holding it open for her. She’s obviously had a bit to drink, and as she clumsily fixes her little cross body bag and sets off along the street, you look around from your hiding spot.

But you don’t see or hear anything; not a dark figure moving nor the sound of footsteps. Still, you follow her, hoping for the best. Wanting to keep your distance, you instead find it hard to keep up with her, which is saying something about your current health.

About two hundred meters from the club, she suddenly slows down, her attention seemingly drawn to something in an alleyway. You weren’t sure exactly how the vampires hunt, but by how the woman begins to slowly drift inside the dark alleyway of her own accord, you guess they do have some kind of pull. Most women, even when slightly drunk, typically try not to do… that.

You quicken your steps as much as possible without breaking into a sprint. Not only do you want to speak to a vampire; if you can take that woman’s place and leave her unscathed, it’s an added bonus. Before you’ve caught up, the woman slowly and quietly disappears, and when you turn the corner with your phone in hand and flashlight turned on, you spot a man holding her to his body. 

Evidently hearing you approaching, the man has placed them against the wall, halfway obscured by a dumpster and hoping you’d walk past them, which you would have if you weren’t so focused on the woman and your mission.

The man squints in the light, and you very clearly discern long fangs. You take another step into the alleyway, but what you didn’t expect was to be grabbed from another direction. 

Gasping, you feel strong arms hold your back against someone’s chest, effortlessly keeping you immobile. 

“What can we offer? Though you smell like vampire already?” The man who holds you says, sounding surprised, and your phone is taken from your hand and the flashlight turned off. 

Obviously, they assume you’re one of the freaky ones looking for vampires because any normal person would run. Your reason for wanting to find one is different, though. 

“I have a proposition,” you stutter, not too scared but uncomfortable with how the man noses at your neck. Despite knowing that if the vampire bites, it’ll most likely be your neck, you can’t help trying to pull away. It’s just another bodily reaction. 

Your words intrigue him, and he moves, creating just a tad bit more space between your bodies and looking down at you with a curious smirk.

“A proposition, you say?”

“You can have my blood—all of it—if you take it right here and now.”

“What’s the catch?” he asks, raising an eyebrow much like a certain vampire you know. “What’s in it for you?”

“There is no catch. I want to die.”

The other vampire, curiously listening to your conversation, whispers something in the other woman’s ear, and lets her go. She stumbles away from him and then casually leaves the alleyway, turning the corner calmly as if nothing happened. 

You meet the vampire’s puzzled yet curious eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with my blood if you think I’m trying to trick you into something. Except that it’s apparently B positive which I understand is not that desirable, but—”

“You’re Jeon’s human?”

“Uh—what? Who?” you ask, confused but slowly putting two and two together.

“Fuck, should we?” the other vampire questions quietly.

“Jeon,” the closest one to you starts, “is the vampire you smell of. He’s been very persistent no one touches his human.”

“Yeah. Can’t blame him. If I was lucky enough to have someone offer to be a walking blood bag, I wouldn’t let them outside at all.”

“I’m not… I’m not anyone’s, and I’m not a walking blood bag,” you explain, feeling belittled. “He made me a promise that he broke. He was going to help me die in exchange for my blood, but he just used me to collect blood, and then he didn’t deliver.”

The two vampires look at each other, and you feel like they didn’t really pay attention to anything you just said.

“I don’t know, man. I’m not sure I wanna get on his bad side.”

“But he’s too arrogant,” the first one complains. “If I want something, why should he prevent me from getting it? He doesn’t own the supply here. I’m a thousand years old; I shouldn’t need to ask for permission.”

“Dude’s like three thousand years old, though? You don’t need to ask permission; you can literally choose anyone. Except this one, for some reason. I don’t think I would if I were you.”

“Our agreement is over,” you try to enter the conversation the two vampires are holding over your head.

“Well,” the one holding your arms peers down at you, “He said that under no circumstances is anyone allowed to touch you.”

You scoff, growing irritated again, “Okay, well, are there any vampires around that aren’t such wimps? If I can’t find anyone to just snap my neck, I’m going to the train tracks and then my blood will be wasted.”

That’s a lie, of course. There’s a reason you picked death by vampire; you’re too scared to do it any other way, and no matter how much you want to die, you can’t subject anyone else—like a poor train driver—to it. Vampires are cold and heartless. They don’t care.

“Hold on. Wait,” the vampire holds you tighter when you haphazardly try to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Look,” he says to the other, “He can’t tell us what to do. Besides, if he gets angry, we can just say that she said their agreement was over, and we did her a favor out of the goodness of our hearts.”

“You don’t have a heart; you just want to annoy him.”

The vampire grins. At first, it’s a boyish smile directed at his friend, but when he slowly tilts his head down to look at you, it turns almost sinister. “I think I’m gonna do it.”

You gulp. No matter how much this is what you want, it does scare you. Mostly because you’re afraid it will be painful.

“Is there a way you can kill me first? I don’t want it to hurt.”

The smiling vampire shakes his head. 

“No.”

You thought death was supposed to be a void. A void of darkness, devoid of physical matter, emotions, and thoughts. But it hurts. It hurts so much. 

Then, a void does take over.

Jeongguk knew you’d try again. If he wouldn’t kill you, you were going to find someone who would. And despite hoping that you would’ve changed your mind, he was unfortunately right. He spent an hour roaming the dark streets around the town’s attempt at a nightlife, but he didn’t come across you. Not until he visits the same place where you first found him, a place he wouldn’t take as your first choice since you ran into him there a week earlier. 

He’s spent hours and hours these last weeks with you on his mind; the little human who wants to die so badly. It’s just something about you and your willingness to die that doesn’t sit right with him, and you won’t leave his thoughts. It’s not his business, he told himself as he saw you curled up and unconscious in your car. Who is he to tell someone what they should do with their life? If anything, respecting your wishes and consuming freely donated blood is easier and more ethical than taking it from plastered people who aren’t really sure what’s going on, right?

The scenes replaying the most in his head are more recent. It’s the way you suggested he kill and butcher your body, saying no one would look for you anyway, and how you called for him, unknowing that your blood was dripping to the floor but still trying your hardest to squeeze that ball for him. Your fingers were barely moving, but you tried since he wanted that blood. 

He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing, trying to convince you to live, but he guesses that he simply needs to know that you experienced some good things in life too. He can’t let you end it this way, as a lifeless body, discarded somewhere where no one will find you.

Anger, frustration, and an odd feeling of helplessness flood him as he takes in the sight of the vampire in the process of draining you dry. He rushes into the dark alleyway, the vampire looking up from your neck just as Jeongguk strikes. There’s not much of a fight after that. The first vampire stumbles backward, and Jeongguk grabs your lifeless body from him as the second vampire approaches, eyes wide and with his hands raised shoulder height.

“Easy, man.”

“I fucking told you to leave her alone.”

The dazed vampire grumbles something, but Jeongguk doesn’t pay him any attention. He places your body down on the snow-covered ground and looks at your pale face while searching for a pulse right under your jaw. 

“She wanted to die.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jeongguk growls. “How much did you take?”

There is no pulse.

“At least three fourths. Possibly more.”

Jeongguk shuts his eyes. There’s no coming back from that.

You’ve lost and regained consciousness due to blood loss one too many times by now, but this time, it really feels different. Opening your eyes, the sunlight filling the room irritates your eyes, forcing you to squint for a few seconds. 

Without moving, you focus on something. The vampire. Jeon, was it? You watch as he rummages through his closet, practically soundlessly, taking out a few items and looking them over before settling on what looks like two black shirts, one long-sleeve and one short-sleeve. Then he digs out a pair of shorts and another pair of sweatpants. 

You’re not used to seeing him in direct sunlight, but now, the rays filtering through the half-opened blinds paint him in a new light, and you let your eyes linger on his arms as he folds the clothes. The green t-shirt he wears is doing a great job at highlighting his veiny, muscular forearms as they work. Light and shadows play along those very defined muscles, accentuating them further.

Your first impression of him was a cold one, one that slowly warmed a little over time both physically and mentally. But in this light? Without even touching him, he looks… warmer to you. Inviting, almost like when he wore that black hoodie. 

You sigh quietly and pull the blanket that’s thrown over you closer. The vampire hears and turns around, placing the clothes at the foot of his large bed.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

You take a moment to consider his question. Though you’ve certainly felt better in a lot of ways, you don’t feel the way you’ve come to associate with severe blood loss. 

“Cold. And tired, but in a weird way.”

Weird is probably the best way to describe how you’re feeling in general. You feel light, but not weak. Tired, but not sleepy. 

He nods understandingly, “It’ll pass.”

You catch his gaze, holding it for a quiet moment. “You changed me, didn’t you?”

It’s the only explanation you can come up with. That vampire was hungry, and you remember slowly losing control in his grasp, both over your body and consciousness. With how many near-death experiences your body has endured in the last weeks—all blood loss related—there just wasn’t any chance you’d survive another draining.

“Yeah.” He looks away, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I couldn’t…”

You think you understand well enough what he’s trying to say, although you’re not too sure of his reasons or how to feel about it. He couldn’t let you die. In a way, you’re disappointed because you were finally getting what you wanted, and dying has proved itself to be surprisingly difficult for you. 

But you’re not angry; not like you were after the vampire saved you the first time. He mentioned once that not even vampires are immortal, so at least you know that you’re not doomed to an eternal life in suffering; you can always try again if you want. However, you’d be back at square one when it comes to options, but you don’t really feel the urgency anymore. At least not at the moment.

He turns his head toward you, meeting your eyes with his deep, dark ones. “Let me show the world to you.”

Surprised to say the least, you mumble a quiet “What?”

He angles his body further toward you, and you see that despite the softer look on his face, he’s certain. “I want to show you everything the world has to offer. All the good things; the magical places and people.”

Not sure what to say, you just stare at him.

“Vampires are not immortal,” he continues. “If you really don’t want this, I’ll help you die. I promised. But please, think about it. No catch, no expectations.”

“But why… Why would you want that?” 

You’ve been alone for so long, unable to keep people around and interested, so why would this being be?

“Because I found that I really didn’t enjoy draining you of your life, especially when you were already so low to begin with. I want you to get the chance to experience the good things life has to offer, and I can’t help but want to be around when you do.”

“You don’t know me though.”

“I kinda want to,” he says, standing up with the cheekiest smile you’ve ever seen on him. “Think about it, okay? I’m not expecting anything from you other than that you consider.”

Still very much processing his words, you feel a cold shiver wreck your body, something the vampire notices.

“I’ll get you another blanket. Your body is still in the process of changing, and with that comes a decrease in temperature. It’s normal to feel cold.”

He’s about to leave when you call for him.

“Wait. What… What's your name? Your given name?”

He stops, and he smiles again. “Jeongguk. And I know yours already; it was on your door.”

You sleep for a little while longer, but when you start to feel better, you also start to think. You’ve been so certain for so long, and you still are—you think—but… either way, you’d like some answers; a clearer view of the whole picture.

“Jeongguk?” you call, unsure how loud you need to be. It feels strange to use a name for the vampire.

It doesn’t take long before the door opens. “Yeah?”

“I have some… questions.”

He nods, stepping into the darkness that is his bedroom and closing the door behind him. 

“Light sensitive?” he nods toward the window, where you’ve pulled the curtains closed over the blinds.

“Yeah… Is that normal?”

“It is. So is feeling sensitive to sound, touch, smell; basically all the senses. But it will pass pretty quickly.”

“Okay. Well, can you… tell me everything about being a vampire? I didn’t think you slept, but you do? Or why do I still sleep?”

He rounds the bed to sit next to you, and you feel it sink as he gets comfortable. Slowly, you turn to face him, watching him lean back against the headboard.

“So, basically, we can do all the things humans do. For instance, you’re still programmed to breathe, but it’s more of a habit and a way to smell than a means of survival.”

While he speaks, you try it. It’s strange, holding your breath and not feeling that strong, strong urge to take in air after a while.

“You can eat human food, but it’s not what sustains you, so most vampires don’t. It gets kinda boring after a while; you’ll see what I mean. Most also don’t sleep as they consider it a waste of time, but you can if you want to. I do pretty regularly. I find it… peaceful, and when you get older, it can be nice, getting a break between days.”

Hearing him talk so casually and almost… softly has you smiling slightly, unable to help it. So he had been sleeping when you knocked on the door, and his hair was all messy, and he looked so cuddly? You don’t know why, but you like that thought.

“You can exist in sunlight, you can consume garlic. Mirrors work for us as well. We don’t age like humans, but we can die if we’re pierced through the heart by something wooden—”

“—You mean staked?”

He looks at your wide, amused eyes and rolls his. “Yeah. Staked. Anyway, you’ll notice that your senses are heightened, and you’ll become stronger too. Not stronger than me, though,” he grins. “As for the blood, you can survive on any.”

“Any?”

What does he mean by that? Human and animal?

“Human, animal, vampire,” he says, the last one surprising you.

You blink, taken aback. “Vampires drink from other vampires?”

“We can. It’s not as common as feeding on humans as it’s mostly… a pretty intimate thing to do.”

“Oh, okay.” 

Thinking about it, you guess you can see why. Having someone so close, feeding on you without the power imbalance of prey versus predator that feeding on humans entails, must feel… intimate. More of a give and take. 

“You’ll need to feed in about a day or two, so you can choose. I have more human blood than just yours as it might be weird to drink your own blood, and I can get animal blood if that feels easier. Or… if you want to, you can drink from me.”

You look at him questioningly. “Didn’t you just say that it’s an intimate thing?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, but if it would make for an easier transition for you, I don’t mind. I’ve taken a lot of blood from you, after all.”

“Okay,” you nod, briefly biting your lip. “I’ll think about it. About all of… this.”

Is death the thing you wanted above all else, or was it to get out of the life you were living? Now that your old life is, in a way, over, you’re not sure. Regardless, there are other worries still plaguing you. You look—almost stare—at his pretty face. 

“What?”

You bite your lip nervously again. “What if you change your mind? I’m assuming this was quite a rushed decision on your part. What if I don’t live up to your expectations? I barely knew how to navigate this world as a human, there’s no way I could… manage on my own as… as a vampire.”

Say you decide to give it a shot; what do you do if he grows tired of you?

“Changing someone is not something we take lightly. We don’t…” he looks around, seemingly searching for the right words. “We don’t change anyone if we’re not prepared to guide them, at least through the first years. Usually, vampires only end up turning their romantic partners, so for most, it means staying together for life. Regardless, it’s a big decision.”

Noticing your wide eyes, Jeongguk smiles and chuckles. “I’m not saying you have to hang around me for the rest of your life, and I won’t ask you to play my wife or anything, but I won’t abandon you.”

It’s surprising enough to hear that vampires not only regularly fall in love with humans but take changing someone so seriously. But you’re even more surprised to hear him use the word ‘wife.’

“Your wife?” you ask, truly bewildered that word was even in his thoughts. “You said vampirism doesn't make you much prettier?”

He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “It doesn’t. But you didn’t need to become prettier anyway.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m telling the truth? Don’t you remember what I told you when I carried you home that night?”

‘You’re a pretty girl, you know?’

Of course you remember, but it doesn’t mean it was true.

You roll your eyes. “You were feeling bad for me.”

“Hm,” Jeongguk looks away, thinking. “Okay, do you remember the very first thing I said to you?”

“That you weren’t going to turn me?”

“For sex, yeah. But I said I’d still fuck you.”

The smile he gives you reminds you more of the vampire that took your blood once every fortnight than the one who saved you. You don’t know what to say, and he seems to realize that, his smile turning softer.

“Like I said, I would’ve fucked you because you were pretty even as a human. Also, about luring said humans in? You will not have a problem with that if that’s something you’re interested in. I kinda want to see you do that, actually,” he grins, sending a shiver down your spine. “Hot.”

Jeongguk is sitting spread out on the rented apartment’s low couch, reading the back of a bottle of red wine when you pass him. It’s hot—a lot warmer than what you’re used to from your little hometown—and you sigh as you open the door to the balconet wider and fresh air starts to play with your dress. The weather doesn’t affect you like it used to, but some aspects are still more enjoyable than others. 

“I think I like Rome,” you place your hands on the railing, looking down at the scene two stories below you. It’s just after ten p.m., and people are dining outside the restaurant below you, their happy chatter accompanied by the romantic sound of street musicians. The air is humid, and besides the moonlight, the street is mainly illuminated by lights from the restaurant and surrounding shops.

You hear Jeongguk put the bottle down on the glass coffee table and stand up, something your human ears wouldn’t have picked up.

“We can stay longer if you want,” he offers quietly from right behind you.

Turning around, you let your gaze travel over his white dress shirt, held together by two single buttons—the rest lazily unbuttoned—and exposing most of his drool-worthy chest. He smirks, looking down at you, and you’re hit by how he hasn’t changed that much since you first met him in that alley. You’ve just gotten to see more sides of him.

You hold your breath, carefully reaching your hand out to pinch the fabric of his shirt between your thumb and index finger, pulling a little on it and nodding.

“Then we’ll stay,” he smiles, slowly stepping back and taking your hand softly in his. His skin feels warm against yours, and it’s almost like some sort of electric current courses through you. You grin as he pulls you toward him, moving to the slow and sensual music drifting up from outside.

Jeongguk lifts your hand above your head and twirls you. It makes you smile even wider, and you decide to place your arms loosely around his neck. He doesn’t object, just looks down at you, still smiling. 

One thing you'll never get used to is how handsome he is. Soft, black hair parted across his forehead, dark eyebrows and eyes, and a dimple that pops out when he smiles. One day, you’ll kiss his nose, you promise yourself. He looks so carefree, peering down at you like nothing else really matters; a mindset not too difficult to follow with him.

“How come everything is so… easy?”

He tilts his head, trying to make sense of your words as he places his hands on your waist. “Well… do you feel cared for?”

You think about it. All the new people—vampires—you’ve met so far are very funny and kind. They see you, and they listen to you. Especially Jeongguk’s friends, and even more so, Jeongguk. He’s easy to be around, and he’s been incredibly sweet to you, understanding that you’re going through a big change and that your previous life wasn’t all that great.

So you nod.

“Do you have anything that worries you?” He continues. “A looming anxiety regarding something?”

“No.” Turns out that Jeongguk and all his friends are filthy rich and also very generous, which means that you have no rent to pay, no stuff to buy, or bills to pay. Nor do you have people to impress or time-sensitive achievements to stress over.

Jeongguk’s smile turns extra cheeky. “Do you perhaps… also care a little bit for someone?”

You’d blush if that was something you could do. “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

He chuckles before he turns a little more serious. “Jokes aside, there could be many reasons. Like I said, not feeling lonely or overly anxious surely helps a lot, but also stuff like… the change of scenery and seasons. But also…”

“Also…?”

He looks at you with a searching gaze, as if he’s trying to figure something out. “Tell me, did you ever see someone about how you felt?”

You shake your head.

“So you never got a diagnosis or medication?”

“No.”

“Then, maybe… you weren’t ‘only’ sad, and vampirism corrected some chemical imbalance in your brain. It could also explain why things are easier.”

Maybe. You thought that your mother dying was the catalyst for your sadness, and without seeing the point of the world, you got “weirder,” and the few people in your life withdrew. Then it was just you, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t connect with people anymore. But maybe, like he said, it wasn’t ‘only’ feelings. A small part of you wishes you would’ve tried to get help, but a bigger part—although sad for the years you spent suffering—thinks this ending might be better.

He continues to sway your bodies, and you rest your head against his chest. When you left with him three months ago, one month after he changed you, you weren’t entirely certain where things would lead, because despite definitely feeling attracted to him, you didn’t really know him. But as the days pass, you don’t regret it, and you’re pretty sure you’re more than halfway to head over heels. You can’t deny that he gives you butterflies.

Sighing, you catch the scent of his naked skin against your cheek, reminded of something.

“You smell good. I remember thinking that you didn’t smell like anything?”

He laughs as you move your face slowly over his chest and up to his neck, smelling him.

“Do I?”

“Yeah,” you say, breathing him in and closing your eyes. There’s the same notes of laundry detergent, soap, and cologne, but also something unique to him. He doesn’t smell like a human, but… almost. It draws you in, that’s for certain.

“Are you hungry?” he wonders quietly. 

“Not sure,” you answer honestly. It’s turned out to be harder to tell than you imagined.

“Well, if you want it… go for it.”

“Like this?” you ask, pushing on his chest with a smile. He lets you walk him slowly back toward the couch, and when the back of his knees hit the edge, he sinks down onto it. 

“Mhm,” he hums happily.

High on the vampire equivalent of adrenaline, you straddle his lap, only to be caught off guard by his scent again. “No, but really, you smell so good.”

He chuckles. “Vampires who are more… compatible tend to smell good to each other.”

His revelation has you sitting back, curious but almost a little worried. Despite the details of your relationship being... a bit unclear—mostly due to his unwillingness to pressure you, you think—you can't help but want him to like you. “Does that mean that I smell good to you as well then? I mean, I remember that you didn’t like my blood?”

“You smell incredible to me. Almost addictive,” he reveals quietly, softly, resting his hands on your thighs, and you think your human heart would’ve raced. “And about your blood… I lied.”

Though grinning happily, there’s at least a trace of regret in his eyes.

“You lied? About not liking my blood?”

“Yeah. B is actually one of the more highly regarded blood types. I’m also B, but negative.”

You shake your head at him before carefully leaning in. With a soft touch of your lips, you locate the pulsating artery in his neck, gently angling his head away with your hands. Then, as you’ve done regularly for the last months, you pierce his skin with your fangs.

“I’m kinda surprised you still believed I didn’t like your blood,” he continues, though it sounds a little strained, like he’s trying to keep still. “If I didn’t like your blood, I wouldn’t have needed to change my feeding days to the day before you came. Nor would I have tried to attack you.”

You listen to his words, but you’ll have to process them better later because his blood is pretty much the only thing on your mind. His blood and his body. It took you a few times to get over the mental association with blood and drinking it, but now, it’s not something bad. It tastes and feels good, energizing you in a way food just doesn’t anymore. And it’s a chance to bond, making you feel closer to him. 

He likes it too, if his body language is anything to go by. You know he tries to stay still to give you the best chance to get what you need without distractions, but the little… almost purring sound that reverberates from somewhere deep in his chest is hard to miss. As is the way his hips shift almost unnoticeably, but you haven’t spoken about that.

Being smaller and recently changed, you don’t require nearly as much blood as he does, and as soon as you feel the urge filled, you run your tongue over the wound to close it, just like he’s taught you to.

“Good?” he asks when you pull back, and you nod, licking your lips. 

You keep your eyes on his skin, knowing that it only takes a second for the wound to heal but up to two weeks for the scar from another vampire's teeth to fade to nothing. 

“All of the vampires we’ve met, they’ve looked so… amused when they understand I drink from you. Why is that? I get that it’s ‘intimate’ but they were pretty much all couples, weren’t they? Not that we’re… you know…”

You haven’t spoken about that, either, really.

It confused you, more so since you last week stumbled across a local couple smiling very cheekily when they saw the scar on Jeongguk’s neck that he’d made absolutely no effort to conceal.

He laughs. “It’s because only I have marks.”

You look puzzled. Yeah, sure, but you don’t understand why that would be amusing.

He looks at your confused face and continues. “The fact that you drink from me but not I from you usually means that I’ve submitted to you. That I belong to you. Which is not very common when I’m so much older than you. It’s usually the other way around if anything.”

“Oh,” you exclaim quietly, lifting your hand to your neck. “Should I…? Do you… want to feed from me? Cause I’m not sure that I…”

You don’t like the idea of losing blood. You know that Jeongguk has said that as a vampire, you quite literally can’t run out, but you don’t like it. Thinking about someone biting your neck has images from the night you died flashing before your eyes. You don’t remember much,  but you remember being scared and how much it hurt. Surely, it would be different to let him bite you, but… you don’t know. You can’t help but feel like maybe you should? Don’t you kind of owe it to him?

“I want to, of course I do, but not that badly. I get that it’s an uncomfortable concept for you, so that’s why I haven’t brought it up. If you ever feel comfortable enough, we can try, because it’s very hot, but otherwise, it doesn’t matter.”

You lower your hand, smiling carefully down at him. He runs his hands over your thighs softly.

“So, you’re really just… ancient?”

“Excuse me?” 

“Yeah? You’re literally older than Jesus?”

He rolls his eyes, still smiling.

“Jokes aside, doesn’t it get boring? You were kinda grumpy when I first met you.”

“Truth be told, it does. I’ve seen everything, mostly even many times over. But getting to see everything with you is like getting to experience it for the first time all over again.”

“That’s kinda… cheesy,” you chuckle, but you can’t deny that it makes you feel warm inside. “Yuqi said you probably needed a change of scenery as well.”

“So what if it’s cheesy? It’s true," he grins, and it's your turn to roll your eyes. "And, yeah, she might’ve been right. I guess vampires get lonely too sometimes.”

Although he's still smiling, you can't help but hurt a little, thinking about him feeling lonely too.

“So then, what’s next?" you ask. "When do we leave for Portugal?”

“Depends on when you want to. I’ll just tell Taehyung we’ll meet them later. As for now, you know Fontana di Trevi?”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna take a dip?”

“What? Isn’t it pretty shallow? And probably… illegal?”

“What are they gonna do? Stop us?” He smiles a wide, happy smile, his white fangs almost glimmering in the romantically dimmed light.

<previous | next> author's note: i hope you liked it!! please reblog if you did <3<3<3

—chapter ten: chasing pavements

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, smut

word count: 2k

summary: august slips away like a moment in time. slowly, day after another. a story of love that never meant to be. 

previous || next

a/n: sorry for the delay, my loves. i was going through some writer’s block lately and didn’t really have any energy to write but i’m over it now, so here’s a new chapter. prepare tissues :)

If you could use just two words to describe what is it like to be in love with Jeon Jungkook, you’d say it’s like chasing pavements. Fruitless activity, trying to achieve something destined to failure, a result of your blind hope, and perhaps foolishness.

Keep reading

“Every hour every minute every second You know night aftеr night I'll be f*ckin' you right Seven days a week” — JUNGKOOK, SEVEN

to build a home | chapter five

pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

genre: strangers to lovers. angst. loads of plot. eventual smut.

word count: 9.2k

warnings: angst. swearing. alcohol. jealousy. no one is black-out drunk in this, oc’s just a lightweight! more heavy petting? idk anymore. mentions of sex and virginity.

author’s note: hii! this was quite healing to write, tbh. it’s very angsty at times but the ending makes it all worth it! i feel like we need a little bit of love after last night’s interlude so i made sure to sprinkle some of that on this one. thank u for all ur love and feedback, i appreciate it more than you’ll ever know! i'm sending a million kisses your way <3 xxx

p.s. yes. this settles the jucy/yoocy debate. place your bets.

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Chapter Five

Your eyes are fixed to the perfectly cut orange wedge that floats on top of your Aperol Spritz. You circle your straw around it, the clink of the ice hitting the glass throwing you right back into time and space.

The music is muffled by the loud chatter of the people scattered around the bar. Some in tables, some standing in corners, aimlessly engaging in conversations that lead nowhere, everywhere – some just passing the time until its, quote on quote, morally correct to end up in each other’s beds.

You look up from your glass, abruptly thrown into your own aimless conversation.

“And then he proceeds to pay for my matcha latte with coins!” You turn to Lucy, who widens her eyes at Sky’s words in mock surprise. “And- ___, get this,” she says, snapping her fingers when she notices you’ve drifted for the majority of her recount, “he walked me home. Only he was riding that skateboard of his the whole way there! Ugh.”

“What’s so wrong about coins, though?” Lucy says, a little dumbfounded by this. You snort.

“Well,” Sky contemplates for a while. “I don’t know! The vibe was just off. And the waiter had to stand there for like ten thousand centuries as he counted them. One. By. One.”

Sky is not your friend.

Well, that is a loose statement. Let’s try again. Sky is someone that has fallen into the space between an acquaintance and those people you end up in the company of whenever you want to do just this – have aimless conversations in a bar. You can’t quite explain it but the mundanity of her problems is comforting at times. Like they bring some sort of universal balance that sets everything back into place.

If you let her, she’ll sit through five negronis and tell you about any recent atrocity that she stumbled upon. Today is the poor skateboarder that had to pay for her overpriced green tea with coins. You take a moment of silence for his spirit and hope he recovers well.

“Hold in there, Sky. You know what they say, a million thorns to get to the rose.” Lucy comforts as Sky sulks, sipping on her drink.

Nobody has ever said that. But Sky nods, sniffing a little, and you smile. Lucy is, without a doubt, walking straight into the gates of heaven.

“Ladies, on the house.” Jiwoo, former literary student and classmate, says as he places three shot glasses filled with a suspicious looking clear liquid.

He also bartends, hence your uncomfortable seating arrangement at the bar besides one another. The three of you are his personal cheerleaders as you keep him entertained through his shift and he keeps you, well, buzzed.

“I just think-” Sky starts, “I think I’m ready for my rose. Now.”

The three of you just nod in acknowledgement at her words. A sheepish smile adorns Jiwoo’s face, who successfully recovered after Sky crushed his spirit freshman year. He did not pay with coins but she did tell him his head was ‘a little too in the clouds’ after he confessed his undying love for a good Shakespearean drama.

You reach for the glass, eyeing it for a second before you decide, fuck it. As you bring the shot closer to your mouth you glance at Lucy whose eyes look frantic, wide in shock. You simply assume it’s a delayed reaction to Sky’s very own Shakespearean drama. As soon as the rim touches your lips, your neck draws back, closing your eyes as you down the Tequila in one swing.

“Wow. I didn’t know you had it in you, ___!”

The awfully-familiar-but-not-quite-there voice startles you, opening your eyes and glancing at the direction of where it’s coming from. Your eyes widen in pure, utter terror, face wincing as the burn from the straight liqueur hits your throat, too consumed in the sight before you to bother reaching for a chaser. You let out a throaty cough.

The awfully familiar voice belongs to Taehyung, who, to no surprise, stands in a circle next to your seat at the bar with a set of familiar faces. One of them being Jungkook’s.

Your mind chants a string of highly explicit curse words that, for obvious reasons, you can’t voice.

“Hey, ___! Nice to see you again!” Jimin’s chirpy voice breaks you out of your ghostly trance.

“Uh- yeah. You too. It’s nice to…,” your voice drifts as your eyes meet Jungkook’s stern ones.

Fucking hell.

“Ah, don’t let him get to you. He’s done worse.” Yoongi muses, amusement evident in his voice. He’s even smiling. This moment is so awkward it even broke Yoongi.

Great.

Taehyung chuckles before he says, “I’m gonna go see if I can find us a table. This place is packed tonight, huh?”

“I’ll come with.” Yoongi says, voice back to his relaxed tone.

Jimin browses through the menu as Jungkook comes to stand next to you.

“Hey,” he says, giving you a tight-lipped smile.

You nod, returning it with the same amount of awkwardness. “Hey.”

“Hi!” Sky chirps, making you both turn to her, “I’m Sky. Nice to meet you.” She extends her hand over you, offering it to Jungkook.

He shakes it, returning her introduction with a simple, “Jungkook.”

“How do you two know each other?” She rests her elbows on the bar, back turned to Lucy completely, as she cocks her head that rests between her hands. A dazzling, Colgate smile gracing her features.

“He’s my boss,” you say the last word with a certain edge to it, hoping it helps her tone her peacock wings down. But it is to no avail.

You look up at the ceiling, looking for your angels that seem to have clocked out for the day.

“Oh! You’re the owner of that cute baby she keeps yapping on about?”

Lucy’s fingers press at her temples, mentally cursing her own angels for this exceptional turn of events.

Jungkook all but gawks at her for a second too long before he says, “Yup. That’d be me. Owner of the cute baby.”

“Oh my god, cute! I love babies. Well, more like, babies love me.” She giggles, overly enthusiastic for the dullness of the exchange.

Jungkook smiles nervously at her. Jimin senses his discomfort and the overall awkwardness of the situation and steps in, coming to stand between Sky and Lucy.

“Hey, what are you drinking? It looks nice and refreshing.” He asks her.

“Oh, this? It’s a negroni. Super strong, but kind of picked up the habit during my semester abroad in Rome.” She takes a sip of her drink as she responds.

“Ah, that sounds nice.” He entertains that for about a second, giving her a genuine smile before he turns to Lucy. “Hi. I’m Jimin, and you?”

She glances at him, eyes long lost somewhere else as to brace herself from the situation. “Oh- um. Mint julep.” She says.

He chuckles softly, meeting her eyes before he shakes his head lightly. “No. I mean, what’s your name?”

She gasps a little in shock, an apologetic giggle leaving her lips. “I’m Lucy.”

“Lucy…” he contemplates, eyes fixated on the endless bottles on the other side of the bar. A small smile on his lips. He turns to her. “It’s nice to meet you, Lucy.”

~

1. That one time you stole a single cherry flavoured Chupa Chup from your local convenience store after your cousin, the juvenile delinquent, called you a wuss.

2. Breaking Micky, member of your grandma’s beloved porcelain kitten collection and denying it over and over again, resulting in her taking the belief her house was haunted to her death bed.

3. Cheating on that one math exam in fourth grade because the basic concept of geometry just wouldn’t get through you.

4. Letting your geeky science group partner feel you up in your bed whilst your parents were next door, at total peace with their daughter engaging in the thrilling wonders of the anatomical body – the other kind.

You’re going through a mental list of every single thing you could’ve possibly done to be stuck in this situation. But even for you, who’s had to live with the guilt of said doings for many years, it feels a little bit drastic to be punished like this.

Taehyung’s quest for a table was unsuccessful, resulting in them having to occupy the seats right next to yours at the bar.

And so here you were, right next to Jungkook, both of your backs turned against each other’s, as you both tried to enjoy a little night out on the town. Another quest that kept finding itself unsuccessful.

The space is quite loud around you and you can’t really listen to their conversation – only Taehyung’s loud laugh now and then.

So, you think, this is good. This could be worse. You can’t even see him! And like Jungkook says: out of sight, out of mind. Yes. This is perfect.

This was not perfect.

“Guys,” Sky whispers, waving her hands inwards, motioning for you and Lucy to get closer. You do and she says, “I must’ve spoken too loud because… it’s here!” She shrieks and Lucy frowns in confusion at her words. Sky rolls her eyes. “My rose, silly.”

“Elaborate?” Lucy urges.

“Duh. ___’s hot boss! Jungkook,” she whispers his name but you still turn around abruptly, making sure he didn’t catch it. “___, you must play cupid. Pretty please?” Her palms flush together, signalling a prayer and you’re not religious but the act feels blasphemous to you.

“Sky, did you spike your negronis again? He’s my boss. I’m his nanny. There is so much wrong with the simple image of me trying to hook him up with my twenty-two-year-old friend.” You argue, trying to sound objective, so as to look away from the specks of jealousy that are threatening to explode inside your chest.

Sky pouts and Lucy nods before she adds, “Yeah, Sky. I think this rose is thorny.”

“I think it’s the beginning of a very romantic story.” She stands her ground, and quite frankly, you don’t blame her.

“Sky, if actual cupid is somewhere around here on nightly rounds, then he might be able to help you. I can’t, though.”

She jumps in her chair excitedly, clapping her hands once before saying, “You are so right! It has to be fate. Plus, he won’t be able to resist me.” She bats at her hair as she says this, sipping on her negroni, cheeky smile on her face.

And for all you know, she might be right. Sky is the textbook definition of attractive. She has sharp features that make her look almost cat-like, but a soft, warm smile that, yeah, most times she fakes but hey – it’s warm alright. She dresses like she knows she has an all-rounder proportionate body and overall, she oozes confidence. If you consider Jungkook’s track record, as in, the woman he had a child with then yes – he wouldn’t be able to resist someone like Sky.

It shouldn’t, but the realization makes you feel uncomfortable. And the more you think about it the discomfort turns into something worse – sadness.

Sky goes on and on about the principles she sticks to, all gathered from her, and you quote, Bible; Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus. You’ve never read said literary masterpiece but the title alone sounds sexist. Both Lucy and you let her talk, though, falling back into the dynamic of the aimless conversation – just like you were before Jungkook and his troop waltzed inside your little Saturday Sanctuary, now cursed forever.

You sigh, shoulders falling to the beat of your gaze as you go back to aimlessly stirring your drink, a significant mental strain on trying to brush aside the feeling of jealousy that takes over you. It’s a jealousy that doesn’t even belong to you, you realize. A feeling that came from an idea so far-fetched inside your brain, mustered from a shock-end reaction after Soori ended up in the hospital over a week ago.

Neither of you had acknowledged it – proving your case further. And it was better that way – you didn’t need the added tension on top of Jungkook’s day-to-day indifference. So, in that moment, you welcomed it.

Right now, it makes your heart feel heavy, though.

Jiwoo senses your despair, walking over to you and placing his hands gently on top of yours, shaking them a little to get your attention. Your gaze snaps up, looking at him as you return his sweet smile.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

“Just fine,” you tell him but he raises his brow, picking up on your white lie.

“Hm,” he ponders, “I’ll believe you. Have some of this, though. Just in case.” He winks before he places another shot glass in front of you, swiftly sliding it your way.

You catch it. Another poorly judged, ‘fuck it’ before you’re repeating the same motion that put you right into said misery you’re trying to drown.

~

At first, Jungkook only feels it – your change in demeanour. Then, he notices the change in your tone of voice, really cancelling out his friend’s conversations and listening in on yours. You laugh, clap, shriek, gasp – dramatizing every reaction to whatever it is your friends are saying. He’s not really listening in on your conversation, no. He’s listening to you.

Curiosity finally gets the best of him and he shifts around in his seat, coming to face the bar fully. You’re slightly turned around but he can see you from the corner of his eyes. Your cheeks are flushed, arms swinging around in the air as you tell some story about a road trip from hell where you and Lucy both caught food poisoning and your car broke down halfway through the trip. He chuckles softly to himself. You truly are a storyteller. Even funnier as your words begin to slur slightly as the alcohol swims through your body all the way to your head.

“Hey,” Jiwoo barely whispers, but Jungkook can hear him perfectly from his place next to you.

“Yeah?” Your voice is soft, and he can hear the smile on your face.

“What are you doing after this?”

“I don’t know… what am I doing after this?” You mock seriousness.

“Wanna get some ramen on the way and go over to yours? Watch a movie?”

Jungkook visibly tenses, but you don’t pay him much mind when you jump from your seat. “Beetlejuice!” You exclaim.

Jiwoo laughs, a short-nod of affirmation as he says, “Beetlejuice.”

“Bathroom break,” you announce, to seemingly nobody.

You stumble down from your stool, holding onto the edges when your step falters a bit as your head spins once, then twice as you regain your balance. Once you’re seeing straight again, you make your way to the bathroom – laughing to yourself as you feel the buzz all through you, easing your nerves, making you feel good.

Jungkook bounces his left leg repeatedly in a frenzy. Jimin picks up on it, turning to him.

“Hey, you okay?”

He nods. “Yeah. I’ll be right back.”

He doesn’t process his train of thought as he gets up from his stool, turning around and promptly making his way to where he knows the bathrooms are. He shoves past groups of people dancing, kissing and groping. Some doing all at once.

He makes it through the narrow hallway that leads to the bathrooms and stands there, waiting. He realizes just how poorly thought out his action was and how he has no fucking idea of what he’s going to say to you when you walk out of the toilet. He’s about to turn around, or hide inside the men’s bathroom – whichever one he can muster first. But the Universe has other plans because right as he begins to stir out of his awkward standing position, you come out of the bathroom. You’re looking down, measuring your steps, hands at your side fixing your skirt.

You look up and you’re met with the sight of him.

“Oop,” you yelp, hands coming to your mouth in embarrassment as you lose balance slightly.

He grabs your shoulders gently, holding you in place. “You okay?”

“Yeah-,” you stare at him, blinking slowly as you take him in. “Yeah. Yes. I’m fine. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what,” he asks.

“Um… my- me. Uh. I’m drunk. This is embarrassing.”

Jungkook chuckles lightly, letting go of your shoulders. “Don’t be. You should be doing just this on a Saturday night.”

“I don’t- usually. You know?” You tell him and he frowns in confusion, smiling a little at your rambling. “I usually spend my Saturday nights reading The Little Prince and listening to Elton John until Lucy loses it.”

“The Little Prince?” He asks, amused.

“It’s my comfort book.” You defend, a pout forming at your lips. You frown, “where’s Soori?”

“She’s spending the night at my parents’,” you wince slightly at this, eyebrows raising. “Don’t worry, my nanny’s there- I mean. She- took care of me when I was growing up.”

You give him a lazy smile. “So, you had a me?”

“Eh- yeah. Kind of.”

“Was she qualified?” You tease.

He laughs, rolling his eyes. “Funny.”

“I’m,” hiccup, “sorry.”

Jungkook scolds himself mentally over how endeared he is by your teasing and hazy minded playfulness. If he thinks about this situation in a professional light, the same one he carries as CEO, he already breeched protocol. But then again, he’s pretty sure that happened the moment he pulled you to him and you straddled his lap. But we don’t talk about that.

“You’re alright.” He gives you a kind smile, throwing you aback. “Do you- I can take you home, if you want. My driver’s out front.”

You ponder on this for a second too long, sending Jungkook’s brain into a frenzy. The protocol is non-existent at this point. “Are you sure? I- there’s a bus! I usually take the bus. From the ramen place. Best ramen in town. You should try it- anyways. The bus stop is right in front-”

He interrupts your ramble, voice going back to that stern edge. “I wouldn’t want you taking the bus this late at night.” He can see you contemplating, lips in that signature pout. “We can stop by the ramen place- if that’s why you’re so hesitant.”

You smile at him. A big, toothy smile that makes your whole face light up.

“Done deal.”

~

The scene that unfolds before you as you get back to your designated places in front of the bar is astonishing, to say the least.

The both of you come to a halt as you take in the little social circle both your group of friends have formed as they mingle, down shots and sip on their drinks casually.

When two worlds collide is an ironic way to put it but it couldn’t hold more accuracy.

Yoongi and Taehyung are invested in some recount about Sky’s strolls through Venezia – hard Z. Jiwoo fills in on that conversation here and there as he mixes drinks behind the bar. Their mouths are agape, taking in her wild stories as she over-dramatizes them for the purpose of having their full attention on her.

Opposite that, in their own little bubble, another mingle that borders on bonding forms as Jimin and Lucy sit awfully close to one another. It’s all giggles and coy smiles, little whispers in between stories as they grow visibly smitten with each other.

Jungkook’s voice takes them all out of said bubbles.

“I’m taking ___ home.” The moment the words leave his mouth he regrets them – an assortment of bemused faces gawking back at him. “To- I mean- I’m giving her a ride home.” He clarifies.

“Yeah, I’m feeling a bit tired,” you turn to Jiwoo, an apologetic smile on your face. “Let’s do Beetlejuice some time next week?” He only nods, returning your smile.

“Alright, Gguk. Get home safely – the two of you. Give Soori a forehead kiss from me.” Taehyung says.

“And me,” adds Yoongi.

Jungkook smiles at them, nodding before turning around. But he’s caught halfway through his action before a high-pitched voice calls out his name.

Sky walks over to him, offering a flirty gaze before she says, “Jungkook! It was so nice meeting you. I hope our paths cross again. I’m sure they will.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Until then,” Jungkook tells her, bowing slightly, shooting a quick smile her way before he walks away.

You are not one to thrive off of other people’s miseries but yes, a wicked grin adorns your face at the sight of hers. Taehyung catches this, raising a brow your way. Your smile drops, quickly facing away from him. Out of sight, out of mind.

You walk over to Lucy instead, smiling at her before you say, “Hey, Lu. You coming with?”

She looks at you, a sheepish smile forming at her lips. “Uh… I think I’ll stay. Text me when you get home, though!”

“Sure. Will do. Let me know when you’re heading back as well.”

She nods and gives you a hug, which you return – letting yourself melt into her.

You can quite literally feel the happiness she radiates.

Jimin looks at you, smiling sweetly.

He’s to blame. You smile back at him.

His little moment of bliss doesn’t last long as he feels Jungkook come to a stand right next to him.

“Minie,” he wraps his hand around his friend, sweetly bringing him closer as he laughs. But Jimin knows his alter motives. “Don’t fuck my nanny’s best friend.”

“Ggukie,” Jimin laughs, over-dramatizing the action, a saccharine ring to his voice when he says, “don’t fuck your nanny.”

~

You are sitting in the backseat of Jungkook’s Range Rover. He’s by your side, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. He bounces his left leg over and over again and as you fixate on it you begin to feel dizzy, head spinning a little.

You have no idea how you get the two of you to the ramen place with the half-assed directions you give his driver but once you’re pulling up, you’re telling him your orders and Jungkook is handing him his credit card over before he exits the car and heads to your personal idea of adult Disneyland – the ramen place.

You think about how this poor man is about to hand the cashier a black, sleek card to pay for greasy under-priced, in your humble opinion, ramen. The thought is so funny to you in your drunken state, you start chuckling.

Jungkook’s eyes snap from his phone to you, frowning in confusion as to what it is you find so amusing. His bewildered expression just makes the whole situation funnier and you’re full on laughing now – head thrown back in your seat, one hand over your mouth and the other over your chest as you try to control it. But your attempts are in vain because your laughter only gets louder, filling the space around you at an alarming rate.

Jungkook stares at you. He’s stuck in a very 50/50 state of mind. 50% dumbfounded and 50% praying to all the gods and angels above your laughter never comes to a stop. And with that, it becomes contagious. He tries to fight it but there’s no use as he feels it bubbling inside his chest and then – he’s laughing with you. Lightly at first but then his cackles reach the same pitch as yours.

The moment holds its little infinity for a while and then your laughter begins to die down – shoulders still shaking slightly as you come down.

You melt into the seat, head turning slightly as you glance at him, his eyes glassy as he begins to come down, too. He does the same, head dropping a little to the side until his eyes meet yours. This side of him makes you feel light – your chest fluttery, on a steady ascend and you never want to come down.

He stills. That soft blink, warm smile making your head spin – now drunk on how ethereal he looks. Not only him, but his whole essence. So pliant, so soft. A soul that finds laughter contagious. You can physically feel your heart contract at this. It hurts, tugging at your every string in the sweetest way possible.

“What was so funny?” He murmurs, that smile never faltering – only getting impossibly softer.

“I don’t remember,” you say, even though you do. You just can’t bring your brain to process any other thought that isn’t him. Him and his big, doe eyes and the way the night reflects on them. Him and his light.

He hums, absentmindedly. The silence that fills the car is dense but you welcome it. You both do as your fingers begin tracing irregular patterns on the leather seats, right between the two of you. They move mindlessly and your eyes close, wishing with all your heart it was his skin under your touch. You can hear the steady rise and fall of his breathing and you just wish he’d come closer – close enough to get lost in yours.

Your mouth voices out your wishes, encompassing them in an ever-so-soft,

“Please.”

And Jungkook can’t think straight.

He hasn’t been able to think straight since your laughter filled the closed space of his car, crawling inside his chest and settling in places he didn’t even know still carried themselves in screaming colour.

His mind had lost all composure the moment you looked into his eyes as if they carried the whole galaxy in them. Since that moment, his heart had taken on the lead.

He moves closer to you, sliding against the leather seats. He does this so swiftly you only notice when your eyes slowly flutter open, butterflies swarming your tummy as your wish grants itself before your eyes.

You give him a dopey smile, pulling yourself closer to him until you’re both a breath away from touching. You wish for that breath, too.

Your fingers dance from the now tight-knit space between you to his legs, slowly moving up his thigh, the tips of your index and middle finger beginning a stroll with no apparent direction. Jungkook can barely feel your touch against the thick fabric of his jeans but the thought alone sends shivers down his spine, shutting his eyes closed for a moment as he tries to gather all the sensations he’s feeling. As he tries to reason with his rational mind and his heart.

All his thoughts come back to you.

His hand hovers over your thigh for a second and, before he can attest to his actions, they close around it – feeling the smooth of your skin, promptly joined by a million goosebumps as your body gives into his touch. He squeezes slightly, unable to control himself. Unable to control the ardent need to have you impossibly closer, to imprint his touch on you until you can feel it for days.

Your hand flies to his cheek, cupping it gently as you let yourself stare into his eyes – hoping they can speak your desire with words that shy away from you the more real the moment becomes. He keens into your touch, face nuzzling into your hand, lips grazing at the soft skin of your palm. He closes his eyes as you run your nails gently down the smooth of his cheek, the sensation making him squeeze your thigh harder, making your whole body shudder as a whimper leaves your mouth. The faint sound has him opening his eyes and they begin a slow dance between your gaze and your lips, back and forth until the feeling at the pit of your stomach grows unbearable. You move an inch closer, pulling his face to yours with the hand that stills on his cheek.

“___,” his voice is but a whisper, “you’re- drunk. We shouldn’t.”

He exhales loudly and as much as you want to give him a detailed recount on how his touch activated all of your senses to the point of sobering you up, you don’t.

“Okay, just… stay here? Please?” you say.

He leans his head forward until your foreheads are touching, nodding slowly as he closes his eyes and lets himself go – falling into your touch and enjoying the way you feel as you melt into his.

Your hands snake all the way to his hair, tangling in his locks – realizing just how much you missed how receptive he is when you touch him there. Your nails scrape down his scalp, softly – an idle touch that does more to Jungkook than he can begin to grasp. His hand comes up to rest at the small of your waist, snaking his arm around it, pushing you closer. You feel restless – a need that doubles as greed at this point invading your senses, begging for him. You pull at his hair slightly and he hisses – so close to your mouth you can feel the vibrations of the sound graze your lips.

“Fuck, ___-,”

The sound of the front door frightens the both of you – jumping abruptly at the sound. It takes Jungkook three seconds too long to register what’s happening but when he does, he removes his hand from around your waist and, in a collected manner, goes back to his seat.

He thanks the driver as he passes him the food, and places it on the floor between the two of you.

You sit there, motionless – trying to absorb the previous moment before it completely drifts from your mind. Like a needle to a soapy bubble. Gone in a second.

You can’t figure out if your heart is restored or bent all over again.

You feel Jungkook shuffle closer to you until he’s flushed to your side. Before you can utter a word, his arm comes up, reaching across your body for the seatbelt before he pulls it down, safely strapping you into the seat. You think he’s about to pull away again but his forehead comes to rest against your temple, your breath hitches in your throat at the mere contact.

“I’m sorry,” he exhales into the soft of your cheek, nose nuzzling against it for a second before his warmth leaves your skin.

You can feel your heartbeat pounce against your every pulse point, erratically threatening to leave its safe space. But despite its restless temper the answer comes to you clearly.

It’s restored.

~

Your head pounds against your skull as your eyes begin to flutter open – the god-awful hangover you can already feel kicking at your nerves as you adapt to the light that shines through your window. You have a bad habit of not closing your blinds before going to bed and today, it’s a problem.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling as you try to steady the beat of your heart at the recollection of last night’s events. At the mere thought of it – of his face, so painfully close to yours, his eyes taking you in, his touch on your skin – the butterflies settle back into what seems to be their favourite place lately.

It’s hard to put a feeling so ethereal into words. You wonder how it’s possible for something so delicate to hold such complexity yet at the same time for it to feel like the easiest thing in the world.

Jungkook is, without a doubt, an enigma. All the blind spots in a puzzle that feels impossible to bind together yet when it fits, the way your bodies found each other’s yesterday, it falls into the big picture seamlessly.

You’re mad at your brain for not letting you fully enjoy the light, soaring feeling of your heart – the way you feel warm all over when you think of his face. The same face your gaze held impossibly close yesterday. Every single mole on his honey skin, the way your mind fell in a trance, an endless game of connect the dots as you held a particular focus for every single one. It’s the closest you’ve felt to adoration and as you pulled him closer, you decided you wanted to do just that to him.

Adore him.

You groan, hands coming to cover your face as you try to collect yourself, falling back into the sensical scheme of things. The reality – your reality.

You need coffee and fresh air – a much needed walk in the park with a, presumably, loved-up roommate and best friend. Who, most likely probably, has one hell of a story to tell.

You get up from your bed, making your way to the closet as you retrieve a pair of biker shorts and a beat-up vintage Rolling Stones shirt you found in a garage sale for a fiver. It is your comfort shirt and immediately, its superstitious effect soothes you.

You make a pit stop in the kitchen, brewing some coffee and fixing it just the way Lucy likes it – warm and sweet, a little drizzle of cinnamon at the top. You smile, remembering the way hers shone last night. You throw a handful of ice on your own cup before you grab them both and head to her bedroom.

“Good morning, lover.” You say.

She’s wide awake, resting on her side, cheek flushed to her hand as she smiles at her phone screen that she holds awfully close to her face.

“Hi,” her answer is brief but her tone of voice is laced with a sweetness you don’t miss.

“One to ten?”

“Ten,” she ponders for a minute, “thousand.”

You gasp, a shriek leaving your lips as her giggles join your excitement.

“What? Oh my- wait. What are you doing in your own bed? Is he- is he somewhere in here?” You begin scanning the room frantically.

She rolls her eyes playfully. “Where exactly would I hide a full Jimin in here, ___?”

You visibly melt at the softness her voice takes at the mention of his name.

“I need to know. Everything.” You place the coffees in her nightstand before you’re jumping inside her covers as she makes room for you – both your arms resting in her soft pillows, head cocked in the palm of your hands.

“Wait- you’re not mad?” She wonders, voice a tone nervous.

“Why would I be mad, Lu?”

“Because, you know… he’s Jungkook’s best friend.”

You shake your head softly, smiling at her before you reassure her, “No. I’m not mad. How could I ever be? You look so happy.”

“After the bar, we went to that diner – the one close to the library. We walked all the way there, too. He held my hand and…,” her eyes glisten and your heart flutters a bit. “It felt… right. We sat in a booth and talked. For hours on end. I could hear his voice forever.”

“Oh, Lu…” you lay flat on your back, staring at the ceiling. “Tell me more.”

“He kissed me.” She mimics your previous move. “I’ve never been kissed like that. I’ve never felt so… wanted. He broke down walls I didn’t even know I had, ___.”

Your hand reaches for hers, intertwining your fingers together.

“All this time I thought I had an idea of… love that was so unrealistic. I didn’t think it could happen, let alone to me. But he’s the closest thing to it. He’s so real.”

You think about your years of friendship with Lucy. The way you’ve witnessed as she’s changed, matured, grown out of beliefs and ideas that once kept her innocent – young. Yet the one thing she didn’t ever let go of is the idea that she was deserving of a love so strong, so striking from the very beginning.

If it’s not a hell yes then it’s a hell no, she would say, after countless disappointments that left her picking up shattered little pieces of heart as she gave them all so transparently, with a vulnerability you admired.

“He’s your hell yes.” You tell her.

She smiles, nodding her head. “I didn’t… tell him that, you know, I’ve never been with someone… like that. But I wanted to. I wanted him. Yet when the moment transitioned and it could’ve gone further than a kiss, he told me he didn’t want it to be like that. He said there was no rush. That we could take our time. That if I let him, he could literally lay me in a bed of roses.” She giggles, a bit shy at voicing out the memory.

You turn to her. “Lucy, I’m not going to have to resort to re-reading Norwegian Wood for a fix of romance. I have my very own starstruck one right next door!”

Your loud laughs fill the room and it settles down the air of uncertainty around you.

“He feels like every romance novel I’ve ever read. And more.”

~

A shiver runs down your spine, making you shudder. You don’t quite know if the cause is the abnormal chill that breezes through the summer morning or the nerves that brew at the pit of your stomach, traveling all the way up your throat, making you feel a bit sick.

You stand in front of Jungkook’s front door, waiting for the door to open – Mrs. Chae’s soft features offering you a smile, the smell of dark coffee, the glossy morning dew that adorns the green grass. Anything to make this routine you’ve adapted for the past two months feel familiar – normal. To give you the comfort of what becomes the ordinary once you settle into its steady rhythm.

The comfort, however, does not come.

When Mrs. Chae opens the door, her soft features are slightly fallen, as if she was immensely drawn into a restless train of thought. Soori is in her arms, abnormally quiet for her usual cheerful morning state.

You frown, taking her in your arms as her little body leans forward, grabby arms reaching for you.

“Hey, princess. What are you doing here, huh?” You coo, placing a soft peck on top of her forehead.

“Good morning, ___.” Mrs. Chae says, that warm smile back in its place.

“Good morning, Mrs. Chae. Did she have breakfast already?” You ask her, bouncing Soori in your hold a little, emitting a giggle from her. There she is.

“Not yet, no. Mr. Jungkook has asked me to tell you to meet him in his office.”

“Oh. Sure, let me just-”

“Now.” She senses your discomfort as you wince slightly at her words and she softens, “as in, as soon as you got here.”

“Okay. I’ll… just go then.” You say, placing Soori back in her arms before you turn around, heading the way that leads to the long hallway.

You glance back as you hear Soori’s faint whines behind you, fidgeting in Mrs. Chae’s hold as her tiny fists open and close in your direction.

You’re scared.

You don’t know exactly what to expect – a plethora of intrusive thoughts had been overwhelming you all weekend, trying to make out just how Jungkook would navigate about the whole situation.

Before he dropped you off, you had turned to him, waiting for him to say something – anything, to settle the nerves that were already starting to blossom as you became aware of just how far the line between wonder and temptation had been crossed this time.

The look in his eyes had been gentle, understanding even. Letting you know that he, too, was trying to make sense of it. It made you feel hopeful, to think that maybe, just maybe, he’d be willing to hold onto your moment for longer, to let you in as you both figured it out. Together. But your heart sank as his gaze dropped, voice back to that frivolous nature you’d reluctantly accustomed to.

‘See you Monday,’ is all he said.

Monday found you in front of the door to his office, hands shaky as you mustered the strength to finally knock on it.

You do – a couple of seconds of hesitation before you decide that it’s inevitable. Whatever happens, it’s all inevitable.

“Come in,” you hear his voice from the inside, a little muffled but already, the sound of it makes your shoulders drop, bracing yourself for the worst.

“Morning,” you say, closing the door before you lean against it, hands still behind you gripping onto the doorknob.

“Good morning.” His eyes remain glued to the stack of paperwork that sits in front of him for what feels like an eternity. He looks up at you, his head leaning to the side a bit – something you’ve noticed he does out of habit when he’s lost in thought.

“Are you going to fire me,” you run your words, an agitated ring to them.

He just stares at you but nothing in his dark irises give way to what exactly he’s about to say next and this makes you all the more nervous. He senses it, the way your chest heaves rapidly, shoulders tensed.

“No.” You look up at him, a mix of shock and relief taking on your expression. “Sit down, please.”

Your steps are somewhat lethargic, the initial nerve not having fully died down and now simply merging into another type of worry. Once you finally settle into your seat, your eyes lock with his.

“Jungkook,” you begin.

“We’ve crossed… a lot of boundaries. I want to apologize for that.”

His words feel like a stab, right at your heart. Sharp, cold, shooting pain through all your nerve endings. It hurts – thinking he sees what you did as something worth apologizing for. A mistake. It hurts and breaks and there’s nothing more than you want to do than ask him to take it back.

“There is nothing to apologize for, I- wanted it. I want-”

“I think we got carried away. We misinterpreted a lot of things. It’s not real, ___. It was all just a side effect of… curiosity.”

You.

He continues, looking away from your eyes. He fears that if he lets himself get lost in them for yet another minute he might break. He might finally lace all the words they hold together and he might just have to coincide with them.

He rather his own not tell you their truth, either.

You remain silent.

“I don’t want Soori to lose you, ___. We- can’t afford to lose you. You’re good for her and that is the most important thing to me. So… this can’t happen again. I hope I’ve made it clear.” He adds, eyes cold as they meet yours once again. You look away, fearing you might give into the impending tears.

“You won’t. Lose me, I mean." It takes you a minute but your eyes land back on his – hurt evident in them but something else Jungkook had yet to become familiar with. A void that unsettles him. “And yes. You’ve made it very clear.”

His eyes on you break you further – second by second. He just stares and it makes you angry. His carelessness makes you angry. His very little courage to try.

But your heart doesn’t let that feeling linger – it doesn’t let you put him in such light. You think of his own heartbreak, the same one that landed you in his door. You truly are a side effect, but not of curiosity, no. You are a side effect of the most painful thing to ever happen to him.

The realization settles upon you – shattering your heart, its fragility taking you aback as all the sense you make of the situation doubles as broken glass, breaking at your skin as you grasp at them.

It isn’t real. It never was. You have been the consequence of a loss of control. His heart walked away and you walked in. It never was real because he’d never see you as more than that.

“Can I go now,” you ask and he simply nods.

You don’t look back when you walk away and you might all of your courage in order to collect yourself.

For Soori.

And even if with half a heart, for him.

~

Her light is contagious and you’re grateful for it.

As the hours drag along you let yourself be softened by Soori’s laughter, her ever-green wonder, her loud baby babble that makes you wonder what exactly goes on in that head of hers.

She’s so loved. She’s so needed.

She’s the heart-mender and she doesn’t even know.

You rock her to sleep, chuckling a little as you look down at her, only to find her eyes wide open looking up at you – no hint of sleepiness in them.

“Hey, you. Go to sleep, missy. When you wake up, we’re going to eat and read and play.” She smiles at you, two tiny front teeth peeking. “We can have some of those dino nuggets your daddy’s afraid of because they’re non-gm-something.” She giggles at your words, nuzzling closer to your chest, lulling herself to sleep with the faint beat of your heart.

You bring her closer and when she falls, body growing heavier in your arms, you let yourself hold her for a little longer.

You can smell him on her.

Love is fragile but not futile, as opposed to feelings.

You break, letting yourself quietly cry as you sway her from side to side.

~

The pressure building in his knuckles as they land on the punching-bag is painful but Jungkook can’t risk gloved hands with a speedy Soori on the loose.

He looks down at her, sat in her play mat that is spread on the grass, a diverse selection of all of her favourite toys laid down in front of her. She doesn’t seem to be too interested, though. Tugging the fabric of her shirt up as she pokes her belly button in total awe.

Jungkook smiles at the sight, giggling softly to himself as to not break her out of her most recent discovery.

He’s proud of himself – of the way he’s managed to make their weekends worthwhile. It might sound ridiculous but he puts an exuberant amount of pressure on himself to keep his eleven-month-old entertained. He still hasn’t figured out if it’s hard or a belly-button-poking type of easy. So, he tries many things – some fancy some simple. She seems to enjoy the simpler things in life, though – her favourite being the water and this one pink rubber ducky that’s seen better days.

They’ve done it all this Saturday. Having woken up bright and early, made a mess out of the kitchen in a highly successful attempt at making French toast – another new favourite for Soori – and swimming in the pool, rubber ducky included.

He enjoys her company and he likes to believe she enjoys his.

Jungkook finds comfort in how hands-on he has to be with her new found mobility. She’s quick and sneaky and requires his full attention so she’d been doing an excellent job at keeping Jungkook distracted from the calamity of his own thoughts.

It’d been two weeks since your talk.

He’d done it all. Everything in his book to run away from his feelings. Even more – everything he could think of to ignore how restless he felt.

To the blind eye – nothing seemed to have changed. Morning kitchen meetings, doorway goodbyes, Soori falling into his arms in the same place he’d left her in and then you were gone until it was time to do it all over again the next day.

But, to Jungkook, nothing held your warmth – the light he’d grown used to. The one he didn’t quite realized he looked forward to every morning until it stopped keeping him warm.

You both did a stellar job at hiding it, though. Keeping on civil smiles and brief greetings – only letting yourselves linger on the eye contact for long enough so as to not dissipate the distance that you’d put within yourselves.

He throws a hard punch, not quite realizing the harshness of the action. It startles Soori, eyes coming to look at her dad in total confusion, chin quivering in the wake of a cry.

“No, no, baby. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he picks her up, bringing her close to him. “No more of that, okay? It’s done. It’s bye-bye.” He presses his lips to her temple as she calms down.

He feels stuck in a grey spot. Unknown. It makes him feel uneasy, just so fucking restless. His curiosity never died down and it’s then that it dawns upon him – he never let you in enough to know what the pain of losing you would actually be like. To know enough about you as to miss you – need you.

If the void in his chest is big enough to fit his longing now, he can’t imagine what it’d be like to know you enough to love you.

He reaches for his pocket, retrieving his phone. He unlocks it – pulse racing as he dials.

“Hey, Ggukie. Talk to me.” Taehyung’s voice rings against the speakers.

“I need your help.”

~

You’re being swarmed by little arms, tucking you in their embrace as they tickle you.

You pretend to squirm and attempt to release yourself from their hold, gasping in surprise as their loud giggles fill the room.

“Okay, okay. Free Miss ___.” You say but it is a lost cause as a troop of very determined kids try to seek revenge for the tickle attack they’d ensued from you a couple of minutes prior.

Dae is the first one to break free – his voice loud and excited as he says, “Uncle Jungoo!”

You freeze. Looking to your side to directly meet his eyes. He wears Soori in a baby carrier, a pretty yin and yang design adorning the front. He gives you a small smile. You don’t quite return it but you don’t divert your gaze from his. You smile at Soori, though, who’s jumping in his hold at the sight of you.

You walk closer to them, smiling at Taehyung as Dae jumps into his arms, showing him the drawing he’d painted during his free time.

“This is amazing, bud. You’re such an artiste. Mommy and daddy are going to have to start displaying your work in the gallery, huh?” He says, earning himself a big, crooked grin from Dae who nods enthusiastically. “Hey, ___.”

“Hey, he did so well today.” You say, smiling at Dae.

Soori shrieks, in need of your attention. You turn to her, smiling wide before you come to play with her little hands that stick from either side of the carrier.

“Hey, baby girl. What a nice surprise,” you coo, coming to plant soft kisses on her plump cheeks.

“Hey…” Jungkook says, voice low.

“Hey.”

“Can we- um… can I talk to you?”

“Sure.”

Taehyung grabs Soori from the carrier and helps Jungkook strap himself free, shooting you a warm smile before you’re both turning around, heading for a quieter space in the library, walking through the high shelves stacked with books.

“How are you,” he starts. He sounds nervous and it unsettles you.

“I’m fine. What’s wrong? Why are you here?”

“I’m sorry.” He says, your cold stare has his mind running around in circles. All the courage he’d mustered to come here fading away.

“For what exactly? I think you’ve apologized for your so-called mistakes already. No need to do that again.”

“I don’t think we got nearly close to making a mistake.”

You scoff. “Did we not? it seemed that’s all you saw it as back then, though.”

“Because it might be, ___.” He defends, voice growing exasperated.

“What do you know?” You whisper, tone harsh.

“I know enough. About mistakes and where they land you. How they feel like once you’re left cleaning up the mess they make.”

“Well, it’s good we didn’t fully commit to said mistake now, isn’t it?” Your words are venomous and they take you by surprise – but above all, they’re laced with pain. So much pain.

“Maybe it’s good. Maybe it’s bad.”

“I can’t with the back and forth anymore, Jungkook. What did you come here to tell me?”

“I can’t live with not knowing.” He starts, “I want to know. The mistake has been made. It was made the moment I let myself look at you, really see you. And it was made the moment I let you see me.”

You tried to suppress them but a fresh set of tears pool in your eyes – making your eyes shiny. It tugs at Jungkook’s heart and he wants nothing more than to hold you.

You surrender, letting yourself weaken before him. “Please – stop calling it a mistake. That’s so unfair, Jungkook.”

“You’re not understanding me, ___. Mistakes – fuck. They rule this world. It’s the one constant in this life. You’re bound to make them. What I’m saying is that… they can turn out to be the best- the best thing to ever happen to you.”

He thinks of Soori.

Of the day he met Ira.

He thinks of how big of a mistake he thought he was making when he hired you.

“Why are you so afraid of making them, then?”

He huffs, shaking his head. “That can’t be further from the truth.”

“So, it’s just me then. I’m the one mistake you’re not willing to make.”

“You’re the mistake that terrifies me the most. The very one that tests all of my rationality.”

You look at him. Holding his gaze, eyes not faltering once. His chest flutters – the way it hadn’t done in a while because you haven’t looked at him like this since that night in the backseat of his car.

It takes you a moment but you break your silence, a soft whisper – one last attempt.

“Then let go. Free the rationality from your actions and… treat me the way you would if you only listened to your heart.”

Your gaze falls to the floor, fearing having to look at him as your heart breaks all over again.

You don’t see him take a step towards you. You only feel his index finger, coming to rest under your chin before he tilts it upwards – slowly. Letting himself look for your gaze. When he finds it you’re met with starry eyes. The galaxies, his light.

You think he’s about to pull away when his hand travels to the back of your neck, pulling you closer in one swift, determined movement. Your mouth barely lets out the gasp that forms in your throat before he’s crashing his lips into yours. Arms snaking around your waist, flushing his chest to yours – two heartbeats finally blending together. Mending together.

You fall into him, knees weakened, a light feel to your bones as your arms entangle around his neck, leaning your head to the side as you melt into his lips, parting your mouth to welcome his tongue, falling into the dance of his kiss.

It’s your hands on the soft, warm skin in the back of his neck.

And the feel of his pink bottom lip tucked in between yours.

It’s his body leaning forwards as yours falls backwards, his big hands enclosing around your waist, holding you to him.

Every feeling intensifies and shoots straight to your heart – settling in your chest, your heartbeat thundering against it until you can feel it in your throat, merging with all the words that you’ve reserved just for him and this moment since the minute your soul subconsciously leaped onto his – sealing a pact unbeknownst to you at the time.

It’s your heart, on his lips.

That’s what the world tastes like.

~

YEP. i literally went “now kiss.” AND I AM SO HAPPY ABOUT IT! i feel like all the words i’ve put into this story have amounted to this moment right here and i cant wait to keep navigating their relationship. it's real guys. it's happening. i hope you are happy too! also, team JUCY y’all won. honestly from the beginning of chapter two i was like YOONGI. YOONGI’S HER BOY. but tbh i like to make y’all happy and ALSO jiminie got me with his dumb jokes on the last one too lol. two hopeless romantics. i want what they have. i really hope u enjoyed this one and that your hearts are well. i can’t explain how much i appreciate the love and i am sending it right back. do let me know what u thought – love talking to u guys. xxxxxx

~

★taglist★

@roro-in-utopia @yiyi4657 @littlrmills14-blog @namjooningelsewhere @drownforryou @iwanttohitmyself @finelinememories @yukiehyukie @shatzkrinslinzki @bts-fic-recs-mess @kokoandkookie @subtlepjiminie @girl-meetsevil @kookiesbreaky @di0rgguk @bloopkook @babyrosieareroses @kookiecrumb @casspirit0705 @eclectictacozinewobbler @tickledpink55 @rjsmochii @dimcorner @miniiimee @vintageroses10 @amyniu @tessxblxckthorn @emotionaltrashcansblog @fangirl125reader

Let me drive. / JJK

pairing | jungkook x reader

summary | road trip + california + your koo 🥺

genre/warnings | fluff + light smut + established relationship + kinda shy/quiet jungkook

words | 3,522

note | okay so i had this idea almost a year ago and wrote around 5 versions of this since then lol i guess the stuff i write is *already* very chill but i have to say this is the chillest

If you could, you’d freeze this moment. This very moment. Right here, right now. Just as the wind blows on your hair, just as everything around you smells like sand and the sea, just as Jungkook’s smooth driving lulls you to sleep.

You look at him then. Focused on the curves of the road, a small crease in between his eyebrows as he is forced to make a particularly sharp turn. You twist again to look outside the half-opened window and all you can see are the waves coming and going, somehow closer when the car shifts — and it calms you even further. 

It’s hard to fight the heaviness of your eyelids, but you’re determined not to miss any second of this. Everything looks perfect, all around you — you can’t take it for granted. You should cherish it, imprint this in your memory, take pictures with Jungkook’s camera now that he’s busy driving and can’t do it himself. It’s within arm’s reach, but you can’t find it in you to grab it.

“You should take a nap,” Jungkook says with an unusual air in his voice. It is deep, but dreamy, and you wonder if you’ve actually fallen asleep. His right hand leaves the steering wheel to lightly touch your thigh. “You didn’t have enough sleep last night.”

“You’ve had just as much as me,” you protest, turning your body to seat properly again and blinking a few times to wake up, eyes opening as wide as possible in between each of them. “Do you think we can stop for a coffee somewhere? I bet you need it too.”

“I’m okay.”

“That’s what you always say.”

Keep reading

In Your Time

Pairing: shy jungkook x reader

Genre: established relationship, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

Summary: You and Jungkook want to take your relationship to the next level, but it turns out Jungkook is not as ready as he thinks he is.

Warnings: jungkook is a virgin, mentions of smut, insecurity, self-deprecation, jungkook goes through it a little bit

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: thank you @kookingtae for beta reading and helping me edit this <3

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The poster is giving me Star Wars and Avengers vibe. Is it going to be a Sci-fi movie or what? Can't wait for the MV 🤩🤩

Worst of You - JJK 01

You meet him under horrible circumstances but that doesn’t stop you from developing a very abnormal and completely unsolicited crush on your local hot police officer™. Too bad you have a bitch of a best friend, anxiety and an inability to learn from your mistakes which cripples your chances to be with the man of your literal dreams. Oh, and he has a lifetime’s worth of baggage at 23.  Or “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.” “Cool, I’ll let everyone know that you’re moving in then.”

Genre: fluff, angst, comedy 

Pairing: officer!jungkook X collegestudent!reader

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Mentions of violence (stab wound), mentions of anxiety, swearing

Note: I was watching B99 and I was like ‘Woah, Jungkook would be a hot cop,’ and now we’re here. 

| 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 |

If someone had asked you to write a novel about the adventures of your life, it would be extremely thin. Not from your lack of experiences (although it is a pressing factor) but more so from your inability to think about yourself for longer than 3 minutes without feeling sick. You were not a particularly hateful person, especially not towards yourself, but you were an active and anxious thinker and your mind was often boggled with thoughts about what you could’ve or have done wrong and it was exasperating.

Keep reading

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.”